uvobreakmylegs · 2 days ago
Text
Imminent
part 2 of the werewolf Nobunaga fic! also in case it wasn't clear in the first part the time period is meant to resemble the mid 1800s
werewolf!Nobunaga x female!reader
Part 1
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Warnings: mentions of death, blood, noncon, brief mention of teratophilia, reader is extremely passive
Word Count: 15.3k
“Are you certain that man was shot?”
The voice that came up from behind had you pause, slowly bringing down the ax that you had been using to chop up the larger pieces of firewood. Doctor Mayhew had just exited your cabin, and he approached you with an odd look on his face.
It took you a moment to answer his question, but you nodded soon after as you repeated what you had told him when you had met him in town.
“Nobunaga was bleeding from two different places. And the blood that came from his side wound is still all over his trousers,” you pointed out.
“I see.”
Mayhew stopped before you with a slight huff as he placed his hands on his hips.
“Well, while he certainly has a few injuries, they don't appear to be the life threatening ones that you told me they were,” said the doctor, “in fact, he's in better shape than most of the men I've seen this week.”
“…. Oh…..”
You weren't sure what else to say to that, especially since you were picking up the irritation that was now surrounding the doctor. If what he said was correct, perhaps there was some justification for that; you had pulled him away from Willsden to tend to Nobunaga, a man that you said had been on the brink of death. Yet the doctor had spent less than five minutes with him before coming out to declare to you that he was fine. Given the situation happening in the town that you had only learned of that day, Mayhew wasn't entirely wrong to be unhappy.
Nobunaga had been close to dying when you had found him, though. That was a certainty.
Mayhew huffed again.
“Well, since this is done, I need to head back to town,” he said, “I have patients that are in need of help.”
This was a waste of my time, he seemed to be saying.
“I-I see. Thank you for coming anyway,” you told him.
He just nodded at you before turning to begin the journey back to the village.“Did you need anything before you leave?” you called after him.
“No thank you,” came the curt reply.
…. He wasn't happy with you. That much was clear.
Mayhew left, trudging back through the snow while you were left feeling confused and a bit foolish. You hadn't meant to exaggerate, nor had you thought you were doing so. The state Nobunaga had been in when you first saw him was still fresh in your mind. With those injuries and all that blood that he lost, you were certain that he needed a doctor.
Putting the ax down against the stump, you headed for the cabin. You wanted to hear from Nobunaga what had happened.
When you entered the wooden structure, you could immediately see why Mayhew had left irritated:
Nobunaga didn't appear to be ill or injured in the slightest.
It felt odd. It had only been a little over a week since the blizzard ended and during that time, Nobunaga's entire state of being had changed drastically. He no longer looked the part of someone on the brink of death. The man you had found when you first laid eyes on him – the sickly pale man with multiple bloody wounds and a knife in his side – was gone, replaced by one with color in his cheeks, no apparent pains coming from those wounded areas and with no issues pulling himself out of bed when he needed to. He was eager to do so, actually, as he eventually made a point to get up and walk about the cabin every few hours while he stressed to you that it was better for him if he pushed himself in order to regain his strength.
It was no different now, as you saw him sitting near the fire, his legs stretched out while he leaned back on his arms, his eyes focused on the burning pile of wood that would soon need to be replenished.
Nobunaga turned his head in your direction when he heard the door open, and he smiled once he saw you standing there.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey,” you began before asking “what…. What happened?”
Nobunaga shrugged.
“Nothing much. He looked me over and said I'll be fine as long as the wounds stay clean.”
“Oh.”
Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed, and he repositioned himself so that he could lean forward as he asked “is something wrong?”
“Ah, well,” you began as you stepped into the cabin and shut the door behind you so no more of the cold would enter.
“The doctor said that you were in better shape than most of the people he had seen recently,” you finished.
One of Nobunaga's eyebrows lifted as he asked “isn't that a good thing?”
“Yes, of course it it,” you said, “but… How is that possible?”
Even though you saw him before you, lounging about in good health and good spirits, you still saw in him the way he had been previously: half frozen and covered in blood with distant look in his eye as he was surely sitting on death's door. You truly didn't understand how he had changed from that so quickly, nor how Mayhew seemed to not believe that he had been injured to that extent.
You continued, saying “you were almost dead when I found you. I don't understand how you've recovered that quickly.”
Nobunaga scratched the back of his head, his gaze aimed away from you. Perhaps he didn't even know, you thought to yourself.…. You shouldn't be putting stress like that on a man that's still recovering, you thought to yourself. Even if he is doing better than expected.
“I'm sorry,” you then said, seemingly much to his surprise.
“I suppose I'm just confused,” you added, “that entire day and the ones that followed were rather strange. But you don't need to worry about that.”
“No, it's…..”
Nobunaga's voice trailed off, as he didn't seem to know what to say to you.
“Maybe…. Maybe the care you gave me was a lot better than you realized,” he then said, “and that's what helped me get better so fast.”
“But I didn't do anything other than change bandages and keep the wounds clean,” you said.
“Maybe that was enough,” he answered as he shrugged.
“… Oh.”
You weren't sure what to say. Largely because what he was telling you didn't sound entirely right; surely it wasn't that easy to overcome the injuries brought on by bullet wounds. But by all accounts, Nobunaga appeared to be fine. So maybe he was right and what little you were able to do had been enough.
Or maybe Nobunaga was just incredibly lucky the wounds just happened to not become worse over time. That seemed a bit more likely in your mind over anything you might have done.
Oh well. As long as he was healthy, that was all that mattered, wasn't it?
“Did you finish chopping up the wood?” Nobunaga then asked, his gaze once more going to the fire.
Right. You knew you were forgetting something.
“No, I didn't. I thought I'd get some of that done while doctor Mayhew was looking you over, but he finished with you faster than I was expecting,” you explained. You then turned around, preparing to head back outside as you added “I shouldn't be out long.”
But before you left, Nobunaga said “I could do that if you wanted.”
You glanced back at him as you smiled and shook your head.
“Even if you are fine now, it's better not to tempt fate by making you do something arduous,” you explained, “just relax for now. I'll be finished soon.”
“Besides,” you added, “you aren't dressed for the cold at the moment.”
All Nobunaga had were those ratty trousers and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he seemed to concede when you brought up that point. But even still, Nobunaga seemed disappointed as he rested his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin on his hand.
Worried that he was uncomfortable, you said “I can always run back to town to get you clothes after I'm finished.”
He raised his eyebrow at you again.
“You already went there once today. I'm not making you do that again,” he said, “you're tired too, aren't you?”
Nobunaga was right. You were tired. Even though a week had passed, you still felt the ache that had been brought about after you'd dragged him through the forest. Today hadn't been any good on your legs, walking a total of 16 miles going and coming from Willsden. All you wanted to do was sit down next to Nobunaga and let the heat from the fire soothe the aches in your limbs.
But then how would you keep the fire going when you had nothing else to feed it?
“I'll be alright,” you told him, “and then tomorrow, I'll head out early to the town and get you some suitable clothing.”
Nobunaga accepted that with a small nod of his head.
With a plan seemingly in place, you returned to the outside. But when you closed the door behind you and caught once last glimpse of Nobunaga, that image came again: of the dying man who needed help, a knife in his side.
The door shut firmly, and you stood still for a moment as you remembered that part.
The knife. The thing that fell out of his side – presumably a bullet – that was meant to take his life.
And then there was the way he'd been digging it out of himself.
He'd been desperate to get it out.
Part of you wanted to ask why, as even in a crazed state, you couldn't imagine what would compel someone to do such a thing. But then again, you'd never experienced being in that sort of mindset, so who knew the ways in which it had made sense in his head during that time. He likely didn't even remember doing it, and despite that part that wanted to ask, you kept yourself from doing so. Nobunaga either wouldn't remember or you would bring up a painful memory for him.
You didn't want to do that to him.
After all that he had been through, you wanted to make sure you protected his well being. Both physical and mental.
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Due to the way you had hurried to get the doctor the day prior, you hadn't noticed it then. But on your subsequent trip to Willsden that next day, you felt that a grim atmosphere had settled over the town. The people who were outside looked sullen as you walked past, as though some great weight was upon them. You also noticed something else that you hadn't before: two of the homes on your way in to the town had their doorways boarded up. There were no signs of life within those buildings.
While wondering how you hadn't noticed something that obvious yesterday, you also wondered what exactly had happened.
Your answer came from the clerk sitting at the general store's register:
A monster had attacked.
Before the blizzard, he had said, a beast had descended on the town late into the night, breaking into the two homes you had seen boarded up and killing the inhabitants within them before others in the town could come to their rescue. A group that formed to kill the monster chased it into the woods, where three more perished before the blacksmith took it out with two shots.
Although the blacksmith had been successful in felling the monster, a total of seven people had died. Children had lost parents and spouses had lost their loved ones, and just about everyone within the town had been friends with a few of those who were lost. It was hard for most to feel good about the victory when the town had suffered in such a way. Now what most were doing was their utmost to ensure that such a tragedy would never happen again.
“I suppose we can't make fun of the blacksmith for his superstitions anymore,” the clerk said, their tone trying to be lighter as they said “doesn't feel right to mock it when it was his own special bullets that killed the thing.”
“And you're certain that it died?” you asked.
“Well, they didn't find the body,” they admitted, “but by all accounts, the monster took off running and looked to be stumbling around when it did so. The ones that were there claimed that it was in its death throes, so I'm choosing to believe them.”
“I see.”
The clerk then glanced over at you in the middle of wrapping up a parcel for you – filled with clothes meant for Nobunaga – and said “a lot of us thought you were dead.”
You blinked.
“Why?” you asked.
“That thing came from the same direction as your cabin,” they explained, “we had figured it had gotten you first before it came for the rest of us.”
“….. Oh.”
The air between the two of you became awkward, which the clerk immediately realized as they tried to backtrack, telling you that everyone was happy that you hadn't died and the only reason no one had checked on you was because of the blizzard that had hit immediately after the attack. You waved it off, telling them that you understood why no one had checked and that it had taken a week for you as well to feel like you could make the long journey through the snow. That seemed to fix the awkward atmosphere, and you left soon after, the large parcel containing Nobunaga's new clothes in your arms as you stepped outside.
There was only one last stop to be made before you headed back home – to the marshal's office to report the crime that Nobunaga had been the victim of. Once you had told your story, the marshal said that he would look into it, but he doubted that there was much chance that the criminals would be caught given how long it had been by now.
“They might already be dead,” he told you, “either from the weather or that monster. It'll save me some trouble if that's the case.”
“You're lucky to still be alive,” the marshal then added, “being so far away from us, you're an easy target.”
You responded to that statement by giving him a forced smile.
During the walk back to the cabin, your thoughts went in different directions: first of how Nobunaga was right and that there had been little point in reporting the crime, and then of how dangerous things had been in the area without you even knowing of it. Seven people had died, and if those you spoke to were correct, you could have been among them. If the monster had attacked really did come from the direction of your cabin, it could have been very close by without you realizing.
The thought sent a shudder through you, and you held the parcel tighter to yourself as you walked.
The fear that something could get you while you were on your own wasn't a new one – you'd thought about that a lot, especially during the long nights when you had difficulty getting to sleep. The statement that you were an easy target was absolutely correct; were it not for the fact that you had nowhere else to go, you would have left the cabin and moved to be closer to the others.
Although it wasn't entirely true that you had nowhere else to go.
If you really wanted to gain the advantage of more safety in numbers, all you needed to do was find one of the single men of the town and convince him into marriage.
But you didn't want that.
You liked the freedom you got in living at the cabin, even if it scared you sometimes. Although it wasn't a bad idea to purchase some sort of weapon. That wouldn't happen anytime soon, however. Glancing down at the parcel, you felt a bit grim as a fair amount of your jenny had gone to purchasing the clothes. But you got over it quickly. It was necessary. Nobunaga didn't deserve to spend anymore time in the manner that he was. After he had lost everything, you were happy to help.
You were happy he was there, as well. Because despite how you had told yourself that you didn't care about being left alone in the wilderness, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Especially someone as friendly as Nobunaga had proven to be.
And maybe having just one extra person around would be enough to assuage your fears of anything coming for you in the dead of night.
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Nobunaga was pleased with the clothes you presented to him that afternoon. Finally, he was able to change out of his bloody clothing and into something nicer. And more importantly, warmer.
“Maybe now you'll let me help out around here,” he told you as he slipped his arms into a jacket.
You nodded.
“As long as you don't strain yourself, that would be nice,” you told him.
“I'll be fine.”
To that, you just smiled and nodded again.
He smiled back at you, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw a warmth within them.
Nobunaga seemed like he was happy.
You were just glad that he was still alive so he could experience such an emotion.
The night ended with Nobunaga making note of the fact that your portion of dinner was much smaller than the one you had given him, but you brushed off the concern as you said this was normal.
He seemed to accept it.
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It was as if he'd never been injured.
Within a short period Nobunaga had taken over the more strenuous tasks of maintaining the cabin, most of it involving the chopping of firewood so the two of you could continue to keep warm. You had been worried about letting him do it at first given that one of his injuries had been on his shoulder, and you weren't certain that he should be putting such strain on that area, but he insisted that he would be fine. And that seemed to be the case as you never saw any ounce of pain flash across his face when he would bring the ax down upon the wooden logs.
Despite everything that had happened to him, Nobunaga was doing just fine.
But even with how well he appeared to be doing, you still felt compelled to worry over him. Even if that version of him you had first met was now gone, you couldn't remove the image of him out of your mind. So you made sure to ask after him, if he was feeling well and if he ever needed you to take over that particular task again.
He never did. Nobunaga would always reply that he was fine and that you didn't need to worry about him, and the way he would tell you always indicated that he was being truthful with you.
He also didn't seem to mind at all the ways you kept an eye on him. If anything, he appeared to be pleased whenever you did.
The days passed by comfortably with new routines setting in for the both of you, with Nobunaga taking care of the majority of the work that needed to be done outside while you focused your energies on the interior of the cabin.
Although it wasn't completely comfortable for you, as during the entire time since you had brought Nobunaga to your home, you had continued to sleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. As expected, it was starting to wear on you, but you didn't mention it to him. After letting him use it for so long, you had no intentions of kicking him out of it, and you told yourself that you could bear it.
Despite not mentioning anything to Nobunaga, he noticed.
One night you awoke to find that he had placed you in the bed while you had slept.
While the gesture was surely meant to be a sweet one, you were more alarmed when you saw that Nobunaga was sleeping beside you, as the bed was just barely able to fit the two of you in it.
It caused a mild panic at first as your heart beat rapidly and you looked to escape the situation. With the way he had placed you on the side next to the wall, the options you had were to crawl down to the foot of the bed and get out that way, or clamber over Nobunaga and hope that you didn't wake him as he slept.
You had decided to go with the former, even if Nobunaga did deserve the inconvenience of having his sleep interrupted for the way he'd moved you about like that. Sitting up with the intentions of slipping out of the bed sheets, you glanced over at the spot you usually occupied while steadying yourself with a hand on the mattress.
…. It had been a while since you had slept in your own bed, you thought to yourself. And while you weren't blaming Nobunaga for that, the surface you had made for yourself out of the rug and blankets was barely passable as a spot to sleep in. Your body was tired and sore and it was affecting you during the day.
Nobunaga must have seen that; perhaps that was part of why he refused to let you do the more physical chores, you mused.
You clutched at the blankets on top of you, now not wanting to pull them off so you could leave the bed despite the inappropriateness of the situation.
But he wouldn't have meant anything bad by it, would he? No, even in the short amount of time you had known him, you felt certain that he didn't have any ulterior motives. He had simply seen that you were doing poorly by sleeping on the floor and he moved you to a spot where you would be comfortable. It was purely practical. And while it was still a bit upsetting that he had picked you up and moved you in your sleep, as you thought on it more, you imagined that he didn't know how to start such a conversation with you, or how he might have convinced you that it was fine to share a bed with him. He wouldn't have, most likely, and you would have stayed where you were.
You didn't want to go back to that spot in front of the fireplace now, though you still felt conflicted about staying in the bed.
Then, a new thought – if it was just for one night, that would be fine, wouldn't it? Just once so you could recover a bit more strength, and then you would go back to how it had been before. It was purely practical, you repeated to yourself. The only thing he meant by it was so you could have a comfortable nights sleep for once. It was only good intentions from a man who wanted to repay you for all of your kindness. As long as nothing further happened, it would be okay.
Now having convinced yourself of that, you lay back down on the bed, though you did scoot away slightly from Nobunaga's sleeping form. Or as much as you were able to with the wall right next to you.
There would need to be a discussion about this in the morning, but for now, you chose to rest, and you fell back into slumber with Nobunaga at your side.
That following morning, there wasn't much of a discussion to be had. You expressed how alarming it had been to find yourself in bed next to him, and while Nobunaga acknowledged and apologized for doing that without asking you beforehand, he didn't seem especially sorry. Nor did he seem to really hear you when you expressed why it had bothered you.
It furthered your worry that he was dismissing your concerns. But he did promise that it wouldn't happen again, and since there had been nothing else about him that alarmed you, you chose to take his word.
At least he hadn't pointed out that you chose to stay with him that night.
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“If you need to rest, make sure to let me know.”
Nobunaga glanced over at you and gave a slight not before he returned his focus to the forest around him while you followed behind, the basket meant for carrying wood on your back as the two of you scoured the surrounding areas for fuel for the fireplace. As was often the case during the winter, the main effort you took towards surviving was to make sure you kept warm, thus you were often out in the forest for that reason.
It was the first time Nobunaga had joined you.
He'd been insistent, saying that he could help out beyond what you were allowing him to do and that he was worried about you going out on your own. Nothing you said convinced him to let you leave by yourself, and so the two of you left together.
No matter how hard you tried, you still checked over him frequently, ready to give him the option of going back when or if he found that he was straining himself too much. Even if he and the doctor said that he was fine, you couldn't imagine that he really was okay after such a short period of time.
But you got the sense that Nobunaga wasn't as happy now with the way you kept an eye on him. Because of that, you decided to stay quiet for now and hope he would be honest with you if he truly wasn't doing well.
The time spent outside passed in silence as the two of you went through with the tiring but necessary task. Nobunaga showed no signs of being put out, and seemed to be in better shape than you were as after a few hours of slogging through the ankle deep snow, you were starting to reach your limit as you were out of breath and wanted nothing more than to return to the cabin so you could sit down. Your energy was distinctly lower than it normally would be, and you tried to ignore the empty feeling in your stomach.
If he noticed, Nobunaga made no mention of it.
Eventually the two of you had collected enough wood, and it was agreed that the two of you would return, to which you quietly felt relieved. Again, the two of you walked through the woods, and just as before you remained quiet, still worried that perhaps your companion was becoming irritated with you. You walked behind him, allowing him to take the lead as you traveled along the path back to home.
With your eyes on his back, you noticed how often his head turned upwards as he looked up to the sky.
When your eyes followed to where his gaze had gone, you found that the only thing there was to note aside from the many trees was the half full moon in the sky that was present despite it being daytime. Either he was looking at that or something in the trees that you weren't catching any sight of, you mused. Though you chose not to linger on it; it didn't seem to matter much.
It didn't take much longer to return to the cabin, at which you let out a small sigh of relief as you were eager to feel warm again once you were inside.
Nobunaga glanced behind him that time.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
“Of course. Why?” you responded.
“Seems like you're happier than normal to be back.”
“I suppose there have been a lot of anxieties about the outside building in me,” you admitted, “but there isn't much to be done when we need to head out to survive, right?”
He nodded slowly before turning back towards the cabin as he said “I haven't helped much with those anxieties, probably.”
“Actually, I feel a lot better with you around.”
“You do?”
You nodded at him when he glanced towards you again, and the way you smiled at him seemed to embarrass him as he just as quickly looked away and walked to the cabin with a bit more urgency. Following him at a slower pace, you felt a bit more at ease now.
But that feeling lasted only a moment as you took the time to look about the area that surrounded your home and found your gaze landing on the two pines not far from you. The same two pines where you found Nobunaga once he had woken up.
The same two pines that had the footprints between them on that morning.
You stopped in your tracks as you stared at the area before you, your breathing starting to come in shallow as you remembered what you had been told had happened at the town. You had tried not to think about it as the topic was morbid and scary, but now…. Now you felt rather dense as you hadn't put the pieces together until this very moment, and fear was building within you once more.
Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed once he saw that you hadn't followed, and he turned around in order to place a hand on your shoulder when he had reached you.
“What is it?” he asked you.
“…. I realized something awful,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the ground between the trees.
“What?”
“When I went into town last, I learned that a monster had attacked,” you explained. Your hands clutched at your skirt as you added “and I just remembered something strange I saw the morning I found you.”
Nobunaga's eyebrows furrowed as he asked “what did you find?”
“Animal tracks. Large ones that were right over there. I thought it was a bear at first, but now I'm not so sure. I think it may have been that monster. One of them even said that it seemed to have come from this direction.”
You let out a shaky breath as you added “seven people were killed before they felled the beast, and I just…… I'm just terrified at the thought of what would have happened if it had broken in. If it was able to kill seven able bodied men and women, then it would have killed me easily. No one would have even known until the snow thawed and they realized I was nowhere to be seen.”
Nobunaga kept his hand on your shoulder while he remained quiet. When you glanced up at him, you found that his mouth was pressed into a hard line, and it seemed as though he was waiting for you to say something else.
But you weren't sure of what else you might say. Everything that could have spilled from your mouth in that moment seemed to have come to a stop, and you were left staring down at that space where you had seen those tracks nearly two weeks before, and all you were capable of doing in that moment was imagining what might have happened to you. If the men from the village would have boarded up the door to your home after finding your body.
You hadn't thought too much on your safety since inheriting the cabin, and now you were wondering if you were only still alive through sheer luck.
Finding your voice again, you then asked “just how close to death do you think I was that night? If that creature really was outside my cabin?”
His hand tensed slightly at the question, but this time, Nobunaga answered.
“Probably really close,” he admitted.
You glanced over to him and found that he was no longer looking at you.
“It was probably up to that creature's whim on whether he would kill you or not,” he said, “he just chose not to.”
“…. He?” you asked.
Nobunaga shrugged.
“He, it, call it what you want. Doesn't matter,” he said, “all that does matter is that you're alive, right?”
“I suppose.”
He arched an eyebrow as he asked “what's wrong?”
“Something else could always come by, couldn't it? And I don't have any means of defending myself. I certainly can't afford any sort of decent weapon,” you said.
I don't even know how long the food I have will last
You kept that thought to yourself, even though you knew you couldn't do that forever.
“If that beast isn't dead, or those men who attacked you come back and find this place….”
Your voice trailed off as you didn't want to finish that sentence.
“You don't need to worry about that,” Nobunaga told you.
“Why?”
“Because I'm here now.”
Nobunaga's hand moved from your shoulder so he could stroke your cheek gently, though you couldn't help but flinch at the unexpected contact.
“You saved me from dying. Somehow, despite how lost I was, you managed to find me, and not only did you take me all the way back here, but you nursed me back to health.”
He was smiling as he told you “so I've decided that I'll repay everything you've done and more. Now that I'm here, you don't need to worry about your safety. Because I'll protect you.”
The words lingered in the air a moment as you mulled them over in your head. A response formed, though your mouth remained closed as you knew immediately it wouldn't be taken well if you were to voice it. To tell him that you felt he was the one who needed to be protected would cause a tension that would be hard to deal with in the small space of the cabin, especially when his eyes burned so brightly with a passion you hadn't seen before.
You gave him a small smile as you took a more diplomatic approach, telling him “of course you will, Nobunaga.”
It sounded forced. It was forced.
And Nobunaga picked up on it as he frowned slightly.
Still desperate to keep the peace, you grasped at his hand on your cheek, pulling it off gently and grasping it lightly as you said “thank you for making me feel better.”
That seemed to placate him, as he nodded. Though you could tell from his expression that his feelings over your response weren't completely gone.
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Dread filled you as you made your way towards the pantry that held your food storage. You didn't want to open it as you knew what you would see: empty shelves and barely anything to eat. Whatever you had in there might last you a few days at the most, and after that point, you would need to find some way to scavenge for food until spring came.
…. That was several months away, you noted. With both little food and little jenny left, how in the world were you and Nobunaga going to survive until then?
Your thoughts went everywhere, thinking of the items you owned that you could trade and the few jobs that were available within the town. Walking there in the current conditions would be an ordeal, especially if you needed to do so multiple times a week, but you had no choice. You couldn't allow either of you to starve.
Nobunaga getting some sort of work was also something that needed to happen, though you still found yourself hesitant to bring it up. You had been the one to rescue him, after all. Why couldn't you take care of him sufficiently? Thus, every time you thought to ask him, you felt guilty.
But he was fine. He had said so and had repeatedly prove so. So it was reasonable to expect him to pull his weight, especially when he was the reason why your food storage had depleted so rapidly.
It wasn't like he had meant for that to happen
With a sigh, you willed the thought away. You'd bring up the idea of him working later, but for now, you needed to make up something that would pass as a meal. So while a lump had settled in your throat, you opened the pantry door as you readied yourself for the dreadful sight of barren shelves.
Only that wasn't what you found at all.
Instead of empty shelves you expected, the pantry was overflowing with food. A variety of meats, vegetables and fruits were at your disposal, and all you could do was stare on in shock. None of that had been there the previous night.
It couldn't be real, you then decided.
So you closed the door, and then opened it again after a few moments, expecting the reality of your situation to return once you saw the lack of food within.
Except you still found it to be completely full.
You looked on in confusion as you wondered where this had come from.
“You seem pretty surprised.”
You turned towards the doorway and found Nobunaga entering, a handful of firewood in his arms. Shutting the door with his foot, he walked across the room to the fireplace and dumped the chopped wood within the box that sat next to it, wiping his hands after. You said nothing, at which point he looked back to you, and then he noticed the pantry.
Nobunaga smiled.
“We won't be going hungry for a while now,” he said.
You blinked.
“You did this?” you asked.
He gave you an odd look as he asked “who else would have?”
“But…. But where did you get all of this? How could you afford it?” you pressed.
Nobunaga opened his mouth, as though he was going to answer. But then he stopped and, seemingly thinking better of it, shook his head.
“For you, it might be better if you remain ignorant of that,” he said, “just trust me when I say that everything will be alright.”
…. You didn't like that response, and you were able to come to only one conclusion:
Everything that was in the pantry, he had stolen.
Your head swiveled back to the pantry as you looked over the contents again, and with all of the good quality food that was present, your brain raced as you tried to add up the amounts in your head.
This wasn't some little crime. If you were found with all of this, the two of you would face a severe punishment.
But that wasn't the worst of it, you told yourself. The worst part was that Nobunaga had very likely cleaned out the food storage of someone else. Someone who definitely needed it just to survive.
“Nobunaga,” you began, your eyes darting all about the pantry as you asked “what have you done?”
“I've provided for you.”
You turned your head back to him as he walked towards you while he continued to speak.
“You should have told me earlier that I was causing you issues,” he said, “how am I supposed to know that there's a problem if you won't tell me?”
“I-You were injured and…. I needed to take care of you,” you said.
“So you didn't want to bring it up because of that?”
Though you were uncertain of yourself, you still nodded.
Stopping right in front of you, Nobunaga let out a sigh.
“That's a sweet sentiment, but I'd like it if you stopped viewing me that way. Look at what happened because you weren't saying anything? You were starving yourself just to keep me healthy.”
Placing a hand on your shoulder, he continued.
“I'm not fragile,” he told you, “I can help you. And I want to help you, to keep you safe and to repay you for everything you've done. Whatever it is that you need, I can get it for you. So don't keep treating me like I'm some sickly patient, alright?”
After a moment, you slowly nodded. Nobunaga was either genuinely unaware of your hesitance or willfully ignoring it, because he smiled again while his hand traveled up to caress your cheek.
“I took care of the firewood, so you don't need to worry about that,” he then said. Then, after looking at the pantry, he grinned at you as he added “I'll make breakfast for us, too. With how long I've spent lounging around in that bed, I'm out of practice.”
Again, you slowly nodded and allowed him to push you out of the way as he selected what he wanted out of the pantry.
“What about….”
You trailed off when Nobunaga looked to you, and you didn't know why you lost your voice so easily.
You tried again when you asked “what about the people who need this?”
You pointed to the food as you did so.
Nobunaga gave you an odd look.
“We need this,” he said.
That was all he said before he continued with his task.
The morning was spent with you feeling uncertain and guilty over the meal you ate, all the while Nobunaga had further shrank the boundaries between the two of you as he sat directly beside you.
He seemed proud of himself.
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The rate at which things changed left you speechless. Where he had once been the helpless man that you had saved, Nobunaga had now taken charge over your own home. He kept up in taking care of the more physically strenuous tasks, but you were now barely allowed outside anymore as he told you to let him take care of everything.
It didn't sit well with you, but you said nothing as you told yourself that the situation was only temporary. Although it had never been discussed, you had never intended on this being a permanent situation, and surely Nobunaga knew that. It would only last until spring at the very latest, and then he would be gone once the climate outside wasn't so harsh. So you allowed it. It would only be a few more months and then it would be over.
Though there were many times late during the nights that you wondered why you allowed it, and you wondered if this had been born from your desperation to have someone else around the cabin with you.
It brought up questions about yourself which you found you didn't want to answer.
It also felt like it had been an eternity since you had brought him here, and yet, based on the way the moon was slowly filling up with each passing day, it had only been a few weeks at most.
Nobunaga noticed that, as well. Often, when you would peek outside to watch him work, you saw him gazing up at the moon during the day, and the look on his face was difficult to tell what exactly he was feeling.
Was it fear? Or anticipation?
Then, the day before the full moon, something changed.
Nobunaga was hovering over you more than usual.
Like an overly attached pet, he followed after you no matter what you did and seemed annoyed whenever you would back away in an attempt to give yourself some space. That wouldn't last long as you would soon find him hovering around you again, staring intently at you as he did so.
As a result, that day felt especially long. You tried several times to ask him why he was acting the way he was, what was wrong, what could you do to help him?
Nobunaga didn't answer you.
The longer he behaved the way he did, the more unsafe you felt around him. All you could do was wonder why he was doing this.
No words were shared over dinner; neither of you wanted to talk to the other, it seemed. Though you only knew your own reasons as to why you didn't want to speak. Whatever his reasons were and how they tied in to the way he'd been behaving, that was all being kept to himself.
You finished your meal fast, and after you had cleaned up, you found yourself next to the fire with a book in hand as you tried to ignore him. But that didn't stop him from pestering you.
“Why are you sitting over there?” he asked.
“I'd like some time to myself,” you answered, briefly glancing at him before returning to the pages in front of you.
Evidently that wasn't a good reason for you to be away from him, as he then said “come sit with me.”
“…. I'd really like some time to myself,” you reiterated.
He scoffed.
“Hard to get that in such close quarters,” he told you dryly.
“I'm sure we can manage,” you muttered.
“Hm.”
It didn't sound as though he had truly conceded, yet moments passed by and nothing further happened. He wasn't insisting that you go over to him, nor was he walking up to you and getting in your space again. Not that it made you feel any better after his behavior during the day.
That was the only bit of reprieve you were granted from him, as when you were preparing your area in front of the fireplace to sleep for the night, Nobunaga came up and grabbed you in order to take you over to the bed, placing you beneath the sheets before he joined you shortly.
You didn't say a word. And you couldn't understand why you didn't.
Just what was it that was keeping your throat clogged up and your limbs stiff and immobile as you were made to do something that you didn't want?
… Fear, that's what it was.
Nobunaga was scaring you.
As you thought over the events of the last few days – no, beyond that. Nobunaga had been scaring you for some time now. You simply hadn't wanted to acknowledge it because you didn't know how to handle the situation. Now you were stuck in bed with a man who made you more frightened than you thought was possible, and you had no way to escape him.
So you turned over, facing the wall as you clutched the blanket close to yourself. Nobunaga said nothing to you, and as you assumed that he was focusing on sleeping, you told yourself to do the same.
At the very least, this would be over faster the quicker you fell asleep.
If only it was that easy.
How long you spent staring at the wall of your cabin, you had no idea. It felt like hours, but you were certain that it couldn't have been that long. Your sense of time was warping due to your distress. And again you wondered: why was he doing this?
The entire time, you had assumed he was already asleep, but then the sound of him turning over in the bed caught your attention, and suddenly you felt his gaze on the back of your head. You didn't need to look at him to be able to tell how intently he was staring at you. And the longer that went on, the more discomfort you felt as you laid in bed next to him.
Pulling the cover closer to yourself, you shut your eyes as you tried your hardest to get to sleep. It was fine; all he was doing was staring at you. While it wasn't ideal, you could ignore that.
Just go to sleep, you told yourself.
Things stayed like that for a few moments: you slowly curling in on yourself as you willed yourself to ignore the way Nobunaga stared at you, all the while he didn't say a word. He needed to know, didn't he? He needed to realize how uncomfortable he was making you. So why was he continuing to do it? Why didn't he care about how he was affecting you? Why had he been behaving so strangely today?
You could ask, but you doubted he would answer. If he hadn't the times before then why would he do so now?
So again you willed yourself to ignore his behavior.
It seemed to be working. Despite the weight of his gaze that was still on top of you, sleep was beginning to take hold. The exhaustion you felt at this time of night finally allowed you to put those worries aside, and the sound of the wind blowing the snow about outside gave you something else to focus on as you began to drift away.
Tomorrow, you sleepily thought. You would confront him tomorrow. Definitely.
Feeling a bit more at ease now, you relaxed a bit more, fully intending on getting a good night's rest.
You didn't hear the way he shifted in the bed.
But you felt when his hand reached out for your shoulder beneath the covers.
Despite flinching a little on feeling his touch, you did nothing to stop him or even opened your eyes, instead keeping them squeezed shut. You shouldn't be reacting in that way, you told yourself. Slapping his hand away is what you should have done – what you should be doing. Pushing him away and demand to know the reason for his behavior, and if it wasn't good enough, you would tell him that he'd be leaving first thing in the morning. At the very least you needed to kick him out of your bed for the night.
All of those things you could and should have done, yet you were frozen, keeping your eyes closed as you willed yourself to ignore it. Nobunaga's hand remained on your shoulder, squeezing lightly as if to comfort you before he moved, grazing the area between your shoulder and neck with his knuckles.
… Perhaps it was an apology, you told yourself. He recognized now how out of line he had been today, and this was his way of trying to make up for that fact. Nobunaga didn't seem to be the type to apologize easily, so you told yourself that the explanation made sense.
You still weren't happy with him, but if he really did see how tense and upset you were, it was nice that he was making some sort of effort, even if you really wished he would just speak to you.
Tell him it's alright and the two of you can talk about it in the morning
The thought entered your head and, despite the anger you were still feeling towards the man, you decided that you would rather have peace and were about to voice just that.
Only Nobunaga chose that moment to move in closer behind you.
And his hand traveled from your shoulder down to your pelvis.
Your eyes shot open, now fully awake, and you clenched at the covers tightly as you felt that hand gently massage that part of you, moving over that intimate area of yours before settling on your hip, continually caressing you with soft touches through the material of your nightgown. His lips were now on you as well, as Nobunaga placed soft kisses to the exposed skin of your neck.
You knew where this was going and you desperately didn't want that to happen.
Say something, you told yourself. Tell him to stop.
Instead of doing that, your voice caught in your throat and you could only clutch the covers tighter to yourself.
Nobunaga noticed, and the relief you felt when he pulled his hand away from you was quickly dashed when he pried the covers away, leaving your form exposed to the air of the cabin with only your nightgown as protection. In response you whimpered, now clutching at the sheets beneath you as you once again curled in on yourself.
Why? Why were you acting so weak?
Do something
NOW
Despite the voice that screamed at you in your head, you remained frozen as Nobunaga did as he pleased, now appearing directly behind you, his breath hot on your ear as he reached for you again.
That time his hand went to your breasts, and any sense of shame nowhere to be found as he blatantly groped you.
The action caused you to shudder, and that was enough to make you fight back as your hands went to grab his wrist, gripping him tightly with the intent of pulling him off of you.
The noise he made when you tried that was unexpected:
He growled at you.
It was so deep that reverberated in your ear, and you froze again as you wondered how in the world a human was able to make such a sound.
Now stunned into submission, you did nothing when Nobunaga readjusted you, forcing you to stretch back out on your front so his hand could wander about your body freely, groping and squeezing where he liked with his free hand slipped beneath you so he could continue to fondle your chest. That time he forced the neckline of your gown to widen so his hand could slip through, and you felt the rough skin of his hands on your soft flesh.
You could only whimper in protest.
He either didn't notice or didn't care as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving chaste kisses in his wake while his hands continued to assault you, only one doing so with your nightgown still in its way.
How long would it remain that way? When would he tire of just touching you and move on to something else? Based on what you could feel poking into the back of your leg, it was likely going to be sometime soon.
You remained trapped between him and the wall with precious little space between you. With no fight left in you and no way of fighting him off, you pressed your eyes shut once more, hoping that this would all be over quickly somehow.
There was a sense of desperation when Nobunaga finally reached down for the hem of your gown and pulled it up, forcing it over your legs and hips until he had it just above your stomach. Now your entire lower half was exposed completely, and you once again felt the weight of his gaze, this time on that spot between your legs that you still had clenched shut.
…. It was really going to happen this way?
Your breath hitched when you felt him grab at your knee and pried your legs apart without much effort. His other hand had left your chest and you heard the sound of his trousers being shoved down.
You knew what was happening, and you continued to stare at the wall so you wouldn't need to have that image of him forever burned into your mind.
I don't want this I don't want this I don't want this
With that thought screaming through your head, you found your voice, what little there was of it.
“Please don't,” you whimpered.
What came out was so soft that you wouldn't have thought he had heard it. Or if he had, you felt as though he may have pretended that he didn't.
Yet he stopped.
You felt that his eyes were focused on your face, watching you, waiting for you to speak again.
Again, you managed to find your voice, and it was stronger this time when you forced the words out.
“Please. Not like this.”
You sounded pathetic in the way you begged. Whatever strength that you tried to convey to those around you was nowhere to be found now. All there was in this moment was a weak woman who couldn't even look the man assaulting her in the eyes.
No matter how weak and pathetic you appeared, it wouldn't be enough to stop him, would it? You could still feel his hard cock against your backside. He wouldn't stop what he was doing and take care of that himself, would he? Perhaps he would even blame you for this current situation; perhaps he would justify himself by saying that you brought this on when you made no complaint on sharing a bed with him.
You knew there would be many others who would agree with his sentiment.
Tears threatened to fall as you continued to clutch at the bed sheets, trying your best to prepare yourself for this situation that you couldn't escape. Nobunaga's hand was still on your leg, still being held slightly aloft and leaving the soft folds of your pussy exposed to the air of the cabin. It was still going to happen. All he needed to do was shift himself slightly and his length would slip into you. Not without some resistance, but no matter how much your tight walls would fight to keep him out, he would ultimately have his way through sheer force alone.
That was what you had thought.
Yet he now was still. While his hand remained on your leg, he made no move to violate you further.
…. Had your words reached him?
You found that you couldn't help yourself, and you turned your head slightly to look back at him.
Nobunaga noticed instantly, and your eyes met.
He looked uncertain of himself. That uncertainty grew when he saw your fearful expression.
Upon seeing that, you tried again.
“Please, Nobunaga,” you began, “you're better than this.”
Conflict only appeared to grow within him as his eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at you with a guilty expression.
You stayed where you were, not attempting to pull him off you again. Instead you continued to look at him, willing him with every fiber of your being to force him to stop, to make the guilt too much for him to handle. After you had saved his life, that should be enough to make him stop, shouldn't it?
All you could do was hope that it would be.
Moments passed in silence with neither of you saying anything.
Then Nobunaga moved.
He reached for your head and pushed it down onto the mattress, keeping his hand there so you were kept pressed down and could no longer turn to look at him. It hurt slightly, and you let out a small groan of pain only to be shushed by Nobunaga.
Then he let go of your leg and pinned it to the mattress as well.
Now you were confused. The action of holding your head down made no sense if he didn't intend on-
You felt his cock rub against the back of your thighs. Your thighs, that he was now holding down. And after a few moments, he pushed his cock between them.
… Why?
Again the question ran through your mind as you asked why he was doing this to you.
Had he always viewed you in such a way?
You were beyond words now, and you kept your grip on the sheets as Nobunaga continued to fuck your thighs. The hand he had on your head had fisted into your hair, and every now and then he would pull hard enough to make you whimper. Every time that happened, he would shush you. When he kept pulling too hard and you continued to make those small noises of pain, he chose to clamp his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.
All the while he bore his weight down on you as he kept your legs pinned together with his own, and he continued to fuck into the simulated penetration of your thighs.
His hot breath on your neck became familiar as he leaned himself closer, his ragged breathing horribly loud in your ear as he got off to the awful situation. His hot length continued to breach the skin of your thighs as he kept you quiet and pliant for himself.
Closing your eyes was a poor idea, as you found that cutting off your sight only had you focusing more on the feeling of his dick against you, giving you insights to details you never wanted to know about. Of the veins, his length and the thickness-
No. You didn't want to think about those things.
So you kept your eyes open, keeping your gaze on the wooden wall of your cabin, doing your utmost to keep your focus on the wood grain that ran along the surface and keeping yourself from thinking of the man on top of you and how half of your face was repeatedly shoved into the mattress with every rough thrust of his hips.
The only saving grace of the situation was that he wasn't actually penetrating you.
Not long after, Nobunaga's groans became more guttural and his grip on you became harder. The pace of his thrusting became more erratic until he eventually pulled out of you.
And then you felt the warmth of his seed as he came on your thighs, coating your skin as he let out a relieved groan directly into your ear.
Once he was done, he fell on top of you, his grip finally loosening.
You continued to stay still.
Nobunaga did nothing further to you, and somehow, in the midst of the way you stared at the wall in shock while you tried to make sense of what had happened, you fell asleep. When you awoke the next morning, you were only allowed to stay in ignorant bliss for a few moments as you became aware again of his sticky release that was still splattered on your thighs, and all of the memories came rushing back within an instant.
That had been real?
The proof of that came when you cleaned yourself off with a cloth. At first your motions were slow, but as you thought longer on what had happened, you became more desperate to make yourself clean again. To get it off of you. It felt disgusting and you hated it.
If Nobunaga could tell that you were silently stewing in your feelings of betrayal and disgust, he made no effort to address it.
That day you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Even when he hovered just as much as he had the previous day, you refused to acknowledge him. Instead of being upset with you, Nobunaga didn't seem to care. If anything, his behavior from the previous day had only escalated, as he made a point to have some form of physical contact with you, be it as simple as his hand on your arm or as extreme as wrapping his arms around you while he held you close, pressing kisses against your neck and humming to himself.
You didn't respond and kept your gaze averted.
How could he do that to you?
How could he continue to do this to you?
You couldn't bring yourself to ask, and your mind was stuck in an endless circle of questioning just what had happened while your body numbly went along with what Nobunaga wanted.
Not long into the day you found yourself sitting on his lap, as he had settled the both of you on the rug in front of the fire. His chest was pressed against yours while his face had been buried in the crook of your neck, and he breathed loudly while he held you tightly. Occasionally he spoke in soft murmurs against your skin, and the hand he had resting against your back would trail up and down against your spine with soft motions, as if to counteract the rough way he had treated you before.
Whatever it was that he said, you didn't hear it. Nor did you bother to struggle when he first pulled you into his embrace. Again, you allowed it to happen. You now found yourself staring up at the walls, taking in the knots in the wood and counting them over and over in your head as your mind no longer wanted to acknowledge what was happening.
This would stop eventually, wouldn't it? It needed to.
Nobunaga would let you go, he would leave, and then you would be free of him.
How you had come to the conclusion that was the way things would play out, you had no idea. But you chose to believe that anyway.
It was nicer to hope that this would come to an end.
And after a long while, it did.
Some time later, Nobunaga finally pulled away from you before he gently pushed you off of his lap, making you settle on the floor while he knelt in front of you. Two large hands then cupped your cheeks, and your gaze was then directed towards him.
Nobunaga smiled at you and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. A kiss that you didn't react to. He seemed unbothered by that fact as he followed it up by giving you a reassuring pat on the cheek.
“I'll be back soon.”
With that, he took his hands off of you as he stood to his full height and turned towards the door. With a few short steps he had reached the entrance. And without a single more word, Nobunaga opened the door, revealing the outside. It was getting close to dark, and yet Nobunaga was walking out into the cold without an extra layer of protective clothing or even a lantern to guide his way in what would be the quickly coming night.
Through the snow that layered the ground, through the pair of pines, Nobunaga walked forward.
Going, going.
Into the forest, you watched as his form grew smaller and became harder to see from the trees that surrounded him on all sides. Until…..
…. Gone.
He was gone.
And left in his wake was the wide open door of your cabin, and you, still sitting in the spot where he had placed you.
You didn't stay that way for long. The cold had quickly seeped into your cabin, and upon the realization that he was gone, truly gone, you didn't feel as though you could move. Now that the strength had returned to you, you pulled yourself to your feet and rushed over to the door, slamming it shut and locking it.
Now Nobunaga couldn't get back in.
You sank down to the floor as sobs began to wrack your body, all of the emotion that you had been bottling up within yourself coming out in a burst.
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You couldn't sleep that night.
Hours after Nobunaga had left and you had broken down crying, you had briefly found yourself tossing and turning in the bed as you tried to rest. The memories of what had happened kept you from sleeping, and even when you went through with the effort of flipping the mattress onto the other side in the hopes that might make a difference, your sleeplessness continued.
It wouldn't leave your mind, and no matter how many times you made yourself survey the room to confirm that you were alone, every time you closed your eyes, you were back where you were last night.
Pinned down and vulnerable.
You gave up on the bed, and sleep as you sat down by the fire, stoking the dying flames by adding more wood. As you sat there, huddled by the fireplace, you found that you wanted to cry again.
All that you had done for him, and that was the way Nobunaga chose to repay you? By violating you in the worst way possible? How? How could he know all that you had done for him and still do such a thing? The only saving grace of the situation was that he hadn't gone through with it completely once you had begged him not to. But he had still made the choice to use you. And it was clear that he saw nothing wrong with what he had done.
It was sickening.
The tears that were forming were quickly and harshly wiped away with the sleeve of your nightgown. No, no more of that, you told yourself. You had wasted enough of your tears on that man. Tears and effort and your own goodwill. No more of that.
He wasn't in any way deserving of it.
…. Though maybe you weren't entirely blameless.
You glanced about at the closed pantry door that was still full of the food you knew he had stolen. The food that you had found yourself trying to justify, as you had truly had needed it. Would the people of Willsden be understanding? Someone there had surely been the victim in that crime, so you feared that they wouldn't. After how much time had passed since you first learned of the theft, you feared that you would be considered to be just as responsible.
Perhaps you shouldn't have feared the jail cell so much; if you had done the right thing at the beginning, maybe you wouldn't be going through this.
The right thing.
You had thought that had been helping Nobunaga when you found him, but now….
You stayed in that spot by the fire, your arms wrapped around your legs while your chin rested on top of your knees as you watched the flames dancing atop the logs. Late into the night, you sat there, waiting until the racing thoughts in your mind would slow and you would finally feel tired enough to succumb to a dreamless sleep. That was what you needed most right now.
It might be best to stay on the rug, you told yourself. You worried that if you returned to the bed, your mind would be alert again with those awful memories. Perhaps you needed to sleep on the floor again until the inevitable stiffness would return to your joints and force you to take the more comfortable spot on the bed. And if the bed was still causing you issues, you would get a new one once spring came.
….. With what jenny would you do that?
You sighed, pulling your face down so your knees were touching your forehead.
Tears and effort and goodwill and your own savings, and all of it for nothing.
As much as you tried to tell yourself that there was no use in being bitter about it, it was hard to keep yourself from feeling that way.
It was late when you finally felt as though you were tired enough that you might be able to sleep. With still no desire to return to the bed, you laid down on the rug, still staring at the fireplace while you hoped that sleep would find you quickly. Despite the slight chill that came from your lack of a blanket, you felt too tired to get up and grab one from the bed. That was a good sign. That you were too comfortable where you were to grab such a thing surely meant that sleep would soon take you, and your mind could have a brief reprieve.
In that moment, that was all you wanted.
A knock sounded at the door.
Though the sound hadn't made with any terrible force, the unexpected noise wrenched you from that place of rest, and you pushed yourself up by your elbows as you turned your head to face the door.
The knock sounded a few moments later, the rapping of knuckles clear against the wooden surface.
In your mind, there was only one explanation: Nobunaga had returned.
Upon that realization, you scowled.
When he knocked a third time, you settled back down onto the rug, your arms wrapped around you while you drew your legs in closer.
You weren't opening the door for him; you were beyond the point of caring.
So you remained determined to ignore him while he continued to try and get your attention, the force of his knocks increasing and becoming more rapid the longer you made him wait. He would figure it out. He would realize that he was no loner welcome, and then he would find shelter elsewhere. Even if he didn't and he stayed on your doorstep until morning, you wouldn't budge: you weren't letting him in.
After several minutes of ceaseless knocking, it finally stopped. At that, you breathed out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, happy that it was finally over.
It wasn't.
Because something bashed against the door.
Something that, when it hit, was loud enough to make you jump into a sitting position, your heartbeat increasing in seconds as you suddenly felt terror and confusion as you stared at the door.
When that something hit a second time, you were watching as you saw the wood of the door bend inward, buckling beneath the force of whatever had been launched at it. Whatever Nobunaga was using to try and break into your cabin, it was something large and powerful.
You blinked.
He was trying to break in.
He wasn't even allowing you to be in peace after he had assaulted you; he felt entitled enough to demand entry into your home even after you had locked him out.
How could he do that?
“Nobunaga!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes as you forced yourself to call out his name, “just leave me alone! I don't want you here!”
The bashing against the door didn't stop, and once it hit after you had finished speaking, you noticed a large crack in the wood.
You needed to defend yourself. What did you have? Pulling yourself to your feet, you scanned the room. A knife, you noted, near the area that served as your kitchen. It wasn't ideal considering that Nobunaga was stronger than you, but that was the best you could do. You took a step forward to grab it.
That was when the door caved in.
Splinters exploded everywhere accompanied by cold snow, skidding across the floor and landing at your feet. Panic began to set in, and you yelled at yourself to get the knife before he entered-!
Only when you looked to the doorway, what you saw wasn't Nobunaga.
The thing that entered wasn't human.
It resembled a wolf, though it was unlike any wolf you had ever seen. It was as tall as the average man, or perhaps even taller, and it made sure that it towered over you as it stood upon it's hind legs. As it pushed aside the remnants of your door, you saw that the front legs weren't in anyway normal for a wolf. The way they stretched out and the way that they bent – they looked like human arms that had been covered in pitch dark fur, though the deadly looking claws at the ends of those decidedly monstrous hands were equally inhuman.
Your mind was blank as you stared at it in shock.
As as it bent down to enter through the doorway, you found that your feet were taking you away from the creature, backing up until your heels hit the edge of your soft rug and you found yourself tumbling backwards, landing hard on your hands while you kept your eyes on the thing that was entering your home. All you could hear was your heartbeat getting louder and louder in your ears as the creature stepped inside fully and stood back up.
It looked at you and you couldn't think. You weren't capable of rational thought in that moment and your breathing came out fast and harsh through your mouth.
The only thing you knew was fear; a certainty that your death was imminent.
For a brief moment, you wished that Nobunaga hadn't left you.
The wolf creature took a step forward, the claws in its feet digging into the wood flooring while it held out one of those hands in your direction, fingers extended as it appeared to reach for you.
You responded by backing away, using your arms and legs in an attempt to scramble out of its grasp. But your escape was cut short when you reached the edge of the fireplace. Your cabin was small and there was nowhere else to run to. It blocked the only way in or out, and there was no chance that you could slip past it. It would grab you. It would grab you and it would kill you.
Again everything within you felt certain that you would not survive even a few moments more. This was the end.
It was coming closer with its hand still outstretched. You were trapped, caught between it and the fireplace, the heat of the flames now constant against your back.
This was the end, you repeated to yourself.
But you didn't want it to be.
With the fear overtaking you, you began to attack it by throwing whatever was in grabbing distance.
There wasn't much. The only thing closest to you was the fire poker, and all you accomplished when you threw it towards the creature was having it harmlessly bounce off its leg and clatter to the floor. Part of you knew you should have held onto it, that it would be a more effective weapon if you had kept it, but the sheer panic was still controlling you.
That was what drove you to delve your hand into the fire and throw a burning log in it's direction.
You barely felt the heat that singed your palm and fingers, and it was flying within moments.
The creature actually seemed to look shocked at that.
Yet the second attempt to defend yourself ended up being even more pathetic, as you missed the monster completely and the log went flying towards the other side of your room where it landed squarely in the center of your bed.
The mattress and the blankets immediately caught fire, something which the creature noticed immediately.
And then it switched it's attention.
Instead of reaching for you, it rushed over to your burning bed. Your head turned as you watched it, and you saw that it was desperately trying to put out the flames by beating down on them.
….. Why was it doing that?
You only had the briefest moment to wonder that, as your eyes ended up on the doorway that still stood wide open and revealed the snowy night outside.
Open and now with nothing in your way.
For the first moment since seeing that thing, your mind became clear.
So much time had been wasted while you sat in shock, with fear taking over your brain and forcing you to make erratic actions. But if you wanted to possibly live, you needed to run.
It's attention is on the bed. It isn't looking at you. This is the only chance you'll get.
Run.
Run.
Run
You were on your feet, sprinting forward with a speed that you didn't think you were capable of. You felt the difference when your bare feet ran over the wooden flooring and when they met with the cold snow. It didn't matter. There was no time to think about how cold it was. No time to grab something heavier than your thin nightgown. No time to do anything except run.
It noticed when you ran.
From the corner of your eye you saw it stand suddenly, looking in your direction. It reached out and you saw it's mouth open.
So many sharp teeth. It would bite into you easily.
You sprinted out into the direction that you were sure led to the town, hoping with all of your might that you would lose it in the woods if it chose to follow. You didn't dare look behind you as you left the cabin, too afraid you would see it sprinting up behind you with all of those teeth on display.
A voice called out amidst the wind. A familiar one.
You didn't dare look back.
Less than a minute later and you were slowing, the adrenaline that had pushed you to run no match for the bitter cold of the night. Your fingers were freezing up and every step into the snow sent pain shooting up through your bare feet. But you could handle it; you just needed to last long enough to make it to the town.
If only the shadows of the trees made by the light of the full moon didn't confuse you, making you stumble as you tried to remember the correct way to Willsden. Things could look so different at night, and now you were looking about wildly as you simultaneously looked for an indication that you were on the correct path as well as for any sign of the monster.
You couldn't see it, hadn't seen it since the cabin. Perhaps you truly had lost it.
That thought gave you a bit of hope as you pushed yourself forward, reinvigorated to get yourself to safety.
But the cold won.
The next time you stumbled, you fell fully and landed with half of your face buried in the snow. Your fingers and toes ached and your limbs felt like ice, and none of them were responding to your commands to move. Even pulling your head out of the snow was too much effort for you and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. The energy was being sapped from you completely and you felt your consciousness beginning to fade.
All of that effort, and for what?
The wind that continued to blow about masked the sound of something coming towards you, and the last thing you were able to note was a large clawed hand that pulled you up from the ground.
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…..
You were warm.
That was what your brain was able to register in those early moments of you waking up, and at first you didn't question it. After months of dealing with the cold that you had been doing your best to fight, it was nice to feel the heat that was running through every part of you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you found that it felt good.
You let out a contented hum, and you tried to roll over to your side to get into a more comfortable position.
For some reason, you were unable to do so.
That was fine. You were still warm. You quietly willed yourself to stay like this, having no desire to leave this nice feeling. While you would need to wake up and face the cold reality of winter eventually, a few more minutes like this wouldn't hurt.
Though after a few moments, you found that you were starting to feel a bit too warm.
Being warm was fine, but when you were on the verge of being hot – that was more than a little strange given the current time of the year. And as much as you wanted to stay as you were, your brain was rousing you from slumber, and you slowly came to realize that something wasn't entirely right.
As you began to wake up, you found that the heat you were feeling was strongest at your core, and there was…. Something happening that was making you feel pleasure.
A firm, hot length that repeatedly dove into you, pushing in and out and the way it rubbed against your warm walls – the friction you felt – made you shudder. Something was pounding into your pussy, but you were enjoying it.
You still felt weak, but you attempted to lift your hips anyway, trying to get more of that friction so you could continue to feel good. You weren't anticipating the feeling of pressure on your clit as a result of that, and your mouth opened to let out a soft moan.
Your lips were then overtaken. Another pair of lips, far more rough and with stubble along the jaw that scratched at your skin closed over yours, and a tongue slipped past your teeth to caress against yours.
The groan that sounded wasn't from you. And when your lips were freed, you were able to hear grunts and soft mutterings that came from above you.
The voice was deep and you knew you had heard it before.
Consciousness was steadily returning to you, and you could feel now how your whole body moved as that length pounded into you, causing you to shift slightly on the mattress while the length inside of you would occasionally make jolts of pleasure to run through your body. There was also a noticeable level of soreness present in your pelvic region, and when your hips were shifted so they were situated slightly upwards, you felt something drip from your thighs and down your backside.
What is that? What's happening?
This isn't right
Your eyes snapped open and you finally gazed upon the scene you didn't even know you were part of.
You were in your cabin, on the floor next to the fireplace atop a pile of blankets. Why you weren't in the bed became clear as the bed frame that once held your mattress had been placed in front of the doorway to keep the cold out and your mattress was nowhere to be seen. But that was hardly important as you realized something else: you weren't alone.
Nobunaga was with you.
Nobunaga, who wasn't welcome, but had returned anyway.
Nobunaga, was currently on top of you and positioned between your legs.
Nobunaga, who was naked.
As were you.
And when he pushed his hips forward again, a gasp was forced from your throat in response to the friction caused by his cock dragging against your walls.
A quick glance at your pelvic region showed that his length was buried within you.
…. He was fucking you.
And based on the amount of sweat and cum that covered you both, he'd been going at it for some time now.
Nobunaga paused after realizing that you were awake, your eyes meeting his while he stared down at you, still breathing hard as he did so. Your breathing was just as harsh, you realized, and when you took another glance down at where you were connected, you were horrified at how swollen and sore your clit appeared to be. With all of the fluids and the other marks on your body that you could make out – what was wrong with your legs? – you didn't want to think about how many times he had used you for his own pleasure, or how many times he had played with you in your unconscious state to drag out unknowing reactions from you.
You began to tremble beneath him as you looked back up at him, tears filling up your eyes quickly. Surely he would stop and pull away once he saw that you were awake. Perhaps even look guilty at the fact that you had caught him while he was in the middle of assaulting you.
At the very least he should have stopped.
Instead he leaned down to take your lips in a kiss, and his thrusting started up again, though the pace at which he fucked into you had slowed.
You wanted to protest – to shove him off of you, but when his cock once again dragged along the wet walls of your cunt you were taken off guard, and instead you moaned while your body shuddered.
The blankets beneath you felt disgusting, as they were equally covered in a mixture of bodily fluids.
Nobunaga reached a hand down to turn your face towards him.
“Sorry,” he muttered between thrusts.
You opened your mouth, prepared to yell at him -
He shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, gagging you with his ring finger and middle finger as he kept you quiet so he could continue speaking uninterrupted.
“I know I should've waited for you to wake up. I really didn't plan on doing this while you were asleep.”
His eyes flitted down as he looked over your body, looking over the marks he had left on you while you had been asleep. You attempted to look back down as well, though you only got a brief glance before he used the fingers in your mouth to move your head back up.
“You were so cold by the time I brought you back, and that nightgown was soaked by the snow, so I thought it'd be better if I removed it.”
The nightgown…..
Right. You'd run out into the cold. Because of that thing that had entered your cabin. But whatever had entered was now nowhere to be seen.
Where was it? How had you escaped it? Why was Nobunaga back?
How had things gotten to this point?
Nobunaga continued, saying “I did for you what you did for me; I wrapped you up in a blanket to keep you warm. But I was worried that wouldn't be enough, so I decided I could help more if I held you.”
He slowed down, removing the hand he had on your body in favor of scratching at the back of his head, as though he was embarrassed. As if he was speaking of a slight slip up and not a brutal assault that had clearly lasted hours.
“I tried not to do anything more, but I couldn't help myself. So sorry about that.”
He couldn't be that sorry based on the smile you saw playing on his lips.
With his fingers acting as a gag, words were still beyond you, and you looked back to your body he was ravaging.
What was wrong with your legs?
The dark marks that littered your skin were numerous, but they didn't appear to be simple bruises. The shape wasn't right. Especially not with the way that several lines had erratic patterns that almost seemed as though they had dripped down your thighs.
With a great deal of effort, you pulled one of your legs up. And with the light of the fire, you saw clearer what what those marks were:
Blood from the cuts that littered your thighs.
Tears finally began to fall as you let out a high-pitched whine at the sight, your tongue hitting against Nobunaga's fingers as he kept you gagged.
“Shh, shh, shh.”
Nobunaga leaned in again as you started to cry, kissing you on the cheek as he said “I know, I know. It looks bad. But the cuts aren't deep. They stopped bleeding a while ago. They'll heal up in no time.”
That didn't make you feel any better, and the noise you made indicated that.
He sighed into your hair as he continued “I thought it'd be okay if I took you in my other form first, but after how much I cut you up and how much pain you looked like you were in, I stopped after the first round and waited until morning before I continued.”
Other form?
You didn't understand.
But he wouldn't explain it as he began to increase his pace as he moaned on top of you, concentrating as he plowed into your pussy yet again. Immediately you recognized what was coming and you tried to stop it.
Your efforts were so weak that he didn't even notice the way you attempted to push him off of you, or even how you pulled at the long locks of his hair in desperation. Nothing was stopping him, least of all you.
Nobunaga groaned as he stilled above you, leaving you to cringe as you felt his cum filling you up.
I don't want this
Finally, he removed the fingers that he had lodged in your mouth so he could lean down and take your lips in a kiss.
With no way of fighting him, you were forced to accept what he had done, what he was doing, and what he would no doubt continue to do to you.
All because you had come across an injured man in the forest.
He pulled away from the kiss but stayed close, and you saw veneration in his eyes as he gazed down at you lovingly.
“You're perfect,” he breathed, “I couldn't ask for a better wife.”
You whimpered in response, the tears continuing to fall down your cheeks.
Nobunaga leaned down over you, wiping your tears away before he kissed you again.
“I know,” he said, “I'm happy, too.”
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minus-plus-zer0 · 27 days ago
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Sunshine Vs Grumpy
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♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
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When you first met Bakugou, he always wore a grumpy expression.
You didn’t understand how someone could look so darn upset all the time. You felt a burning desire to fix that, for the sake of his pretty face.
“Bakugouuuu!” 
You called out to Bakugou in a quiet hallway, and Bakugou nearly jumped out of his skin due to your voice. Your voice alone always seemed to startle him, for whatever reason. But he still retained his grumpy expression as he turned to you.
“What?!" Bakugou snapped. "What the hell was that for?”
You pouted. “Oh you’re doing it again!” 
“Doing WHAT?”
“That! That right there! You’re frowning all the time! You’re such a grumpy pants you know that?”
“HAH?! Where the hell do you get off telling me that to my face?”
“Well I just thought you would feel so much better if you weren’t so unhappy all the time, so I wanted to point it out and cheer you up! Here, let me try.”
“WHAT ARE YOU–”
You patted his arm like a salesman would pat a fine car. Bakugou wrinkled his nose and scrutinized your gesture. 
“You don’t gotta fucking pat me to calm me down dammit! I’m not weak to your damn petting! I’m not–”
You stroked his arm. “There, there… There, there…”
“I can calm down just fine on my own,” Bakugou said, his voice slowly getting less heated. “There’s nothing wrong with my anger. Or my frowns.
You hugged his arm lightly, swinging it a little. “It’s okay! No worries, it’s gonna be alright!”
Bakugou exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. Bakugou lost most of the anger in him. His expression looked much more relaxed as he gazed at you.
“See?” you said, pointing at his face. “Isn’t this better?”
“You gonna steal my arm every time I frown?” Bakugou asked, with a leveled voice.
“Every time! As much as it takes!”
Bakugou clicked his tongue. “I got places to go. C’mon.”
Bakugou practically dragged you around school for the rest of the day because you wouldn't let go. He never told you to let go either. Bakugou would stand and wait for you to cling back on if you ever accidentally fell off. And true to your word, you continued to cling to him long after in the following days and weeks. The boy would not stop getting into fights and you had to be there to calm him down.
Eventually, Bakugou did calm down quite a bit, and you stopped accompanying him everywhere. Then, Bakugou started knocking on your dorm door to figure out where the hell you went.
"Why'd you leave?" Bakugou asked.
"I thought you were doing well on your own," you said. "So I assumed you wouldn't need me anymore..."
"Wouldn't need you...?"
Bakugou spelled out the words like they were foreign to him. Even now, he still didn't look angry. Just confused.
"Ya can't just dump me all of a sudden..." Bakugou said. "That's too damn much... Ya know, I've gotta hit the convenience store soon and there's an asshole cashier that gets on my nerves. You coming or what? Snacks are on me."
"Hm... snacks? Maybe... I don't know..."
Bakugou sighed. "...Can you please come with me?"
This was not the first time you saw a more vulnerable side of Bakugou, but it was one of your favorites. The boy looked genuinely concerned.
"Sure, okay!" you said. "Since you asked soooo nicely."
Bakugou's expression lit up just like yours did and his good mood only continued throughout the night. After spending enough time with you, you eventually considered Bakugou to be well rehabilitated from his chronic grumpy face disease.
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(Clingy goofy dorky needy loser Bakugou strikes again!)
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 11 months ago
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What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.
Warnings: little detail of smut
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.
“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.
He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.
His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.
Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.
Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.
~
Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.
And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.
He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.
You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.
He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.
“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.
“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.
“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.
“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.
~
“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.
The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.
Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.
He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.
The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.
You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.
He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.
He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.
You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.
You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.
Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.
“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.
“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.
But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.
You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.
“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.
"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.
"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.
"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.
"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.
Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.
You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.
He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.
Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.
Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.
More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.
Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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Hi!!! I saw you did a poly!marauders with a plus!dive reader who’s insecure…
Can you write one where the reader is shying away from intimacy with the boys because they’re insecure and feeling ick about their body? Like not just sex but also physical touch like hugs or especially sitting on their laps? It can include smut too if you’d like!
I’m feeling pretty ick about my size rn and the fix really helped me! Thank u sm for your writing
Thanks sm for requesting lovely! I hope you start to feel better soon <33
cw: insecurity around size/weight, talk of traditional beauty standards
poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words
The funny thing is, the boys have been wearing away at your instincts for months. It’s no conscious effort for them, but for you it’s impossible not to notice. Before you got together, you’d been used to shying away from nearly every touch. You rarely hugged anyone, kissed only chastely, and shunned most physical intimacy. But though they’ve gone about it in a gentlemanly way, never putting pressure on you, your boyfriends have slowly changed that. Now hardly a day goes by without James having had his arm around your waist, Remus raking casual touches up your leg, or Sirius turning a kiss into a feely makeout. 
Unfortunately, you still have your bad days. Earlier this week you’d looked too long into the mirror, and of course found a dozen things to hate about your body, and hadn’t wanted any of the boys to touch you since. When Sirius’ hand had smoothed over your lower back yesterday, skimming the rolls of fat at your sides, you’d almost thought you’d be sick before you could get away from him. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel there, what he’d think of you when he did. You’re not stupid; you know your boyfriends can see you, but touching is something different. What they probably want to feel isn’t what you have to offer, perfectly smooth skin and sloping, gentle curves. It sometimes feels like you’re keeping the secret of your true form from them, and if they discover it they’ll see you the same way you do. 
“So, what’s the big secret?” Sirius asks as you come into the common room. All three boys are tangled up on the couch, and the other two turn to look when he calls out to you. 
You give him a bemused sort of smile, perching on the armrest next to James. Careful not to put much of your weight on it. “What do you mean?” 
“Don’t play coy.” Sirius narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I saw you whispering with Evans earlier, glancing at us all mischievously. What’re you two up to?” 
You have to bite down on your smile. Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and you and Lily are in charge of his surprise party plans. James and Remus are involved too, of course, but it’s far easier for you and Lily to speak about it in your dorm at night, whereas your boyfriends hardly get any time apart to partake in secret plans. 
“Oh,” you say breezily, “that was nothing. She was asking if we’re going to hogsmeade tomorrow. I told her we are.” 
James smiles at you conspiratorially, bringing a hand to your thigh and rubbing up and down in silent support. You almost have a heart attack. You place your hand hastily atop his, intertwining your fingers as cover for your panicked response. James doesn’t seem unhappy with the change, resting his head against your arm as he strokes his thumb across the back of your hand. 
“Should we make it a study session in hogsmeade?” Remus asks, neatly keeping the subject away from Sirius’ party. “We’ve all got that potions paper due Monday.” 
“I’ve finished,” you admit, “but I’m still open to studying if you guys want to.” 
Remus rewards you with a smile as Sirius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Show-off,” he mutters. 
“Shut up, Pads,” James says, always looking for any opportunity to take your side over Sirius’. He grabs your waist before you can stop him, tugging you off the armrest. 
No sooner do you land on his lap than you’re springing to your feet. “James!” you cry, batting at his hands when they reach to pull you back. “You can’t just do that, I’ll crush you!”  
Thick eyebrows fly up past the rims of James’ glasses and disappear behind his curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that clearly means the opposite, “do you really think I’m so weak that I’ll crumble from you sitting on my lap?”
“It’s not—”
“Fucking hell,” Sirius cuts in, looking horrified, “if you think James can’t handle you, what do you think of Remus and I?”
“I’ll bench press you right now,” James insists, trying to push the other boys aside so he has room to lay down. “Come here, lovie, we’ll see who’s weak.” 
The laugh that emerges from your throat borders on hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to say that anyone here was weak, okay? I just…” There’s no good way to phrase that last part, and you think for a moment to simply leave it there, but Remus leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees with an expression that clearly reads go on. “I know I’m not, like, a tiny delicate bird,” you laugh, aiming for flippancy. 
No one laughs with you. 
“But I don��t need any of you to respond to that,” you hurry to say. “I know it’s a weird subject, and there’s, like, no right way, really, to…to respond.” You trail off dumbly, wishing desperately that you’d never broached the subject in the first place. 
After a moment of silence, you chance a glance up, but one look at Sirius’ visage, bordering on outraged, has your gaze defaulting back to your lap. “Sorry,” you say in a small voice. “Can we forget about it?” 
“That’s alright, love.” Remus' voice is dulcet, so low you would never normally have heard him if the other two boys weren’t so uncharacteristically silent. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but can I just say something?” 
You look up to nod at him, finding his countenance equal parts troubled and patient. His mouth is pursed like he’s worried that if he’s not careful, the wrong words will come flying out. At your nod of assent, he speaks, clearly and firmly. 
“I don’t want you to look like a bird.” 
You almost laugh again, it’s such an absurd declaration, but Remus’ expression is serious. “You know what I mean, though,” you say, lifting a shoulder like this conversation is nothing to you. “I know what guys want. I’m not that.” 
“Bullshit,” Sirius says, and Remus’ lips twitch upward at your boyfriend’s brash tongue. “You’re just gonna lump us in with all guys? Do all girls want the exact same thing too?” You go to protest, but he talks over you, fuming. “Golden boys, tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an eight-pack of abs, right? Is that what you wish we looked like?”
“Of course not.” You’re tripping over yourself in your denial. “I wouldn’t—I don’t want you to look any other way.” 
“But you can see his point, can’t you?” Remus asks gently. “If we each only liked what we’re told is most attractive, a face full of scars probably wouldn’t be on the top of that list.” You must look as devastated as you feel, because Remus’ lips pull up in a reassuring half-smile, the long scar across his cheek flashing silver with the movement. “Does that matter to you?”
Your voice is quiet; chastened, but ardent. “No. Not at all.” 
“So perhaps you can imagine,” James says, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly, “how if you can look at us and find things to love, we can do the same with you.” You gnaw on your lip, and his brows come slowly back down. 
“Don’t,” Sirius says sternly. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. You’re gorgeous, and we like you like this.” His eyes bore into yours, insistent. “You can’t make our decisions for us about which parts of you we’re allowed to like, understand?” 
James nods, extending his hands to you. “Would you come sit with me, angel? Only if you want to, of course,” he adds at your hesitance, “but please don’t refrain because you’re worried about anything to do with me.” 
You give him an assessing look. “Alright,” you say, perching on his lap. “Just tell me if you want me to get off.” 
“Will do, darling.” James grips the fat of your hips, hauling you onto him so that your feet leave the floor and your full weight is on him. “Not much danger of that, though.” 
“Honestly,” Remus hums, pulling your legs across his lap so that you’re sitting sideways on James, “the day one of us says we want you to look more like a bird, run, sweetheart. Someone’s using polyjuice or something.”
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mononijikayu · 2 months ago
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die with a smile — geto suguru.
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As you were washing up after dinner, Suguru spoke, his voice hesitant. "You know, I never thought I’d let anyone into this place. It was supposed to be… just for me." You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "What changed?" He didn’t answer right away, drying the dishes in silence before finally turning to you. "I guess… I got tired of being alone." There was a raw honesty in his words that made your heart ache. "I know the feeling too well, I suppose." you admitted, your voice soft. "I didn’t realize how much I needed this—needed someone—until I found you."
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: nsfw, fluff, angst, romance, hurt/ comfort, post - apocalyptic world (zombie take over), isolation, hurt, physical touch, illness, loneliness, sadness, pain, pining, getting together, unhappy ending, character death, depictions of apocalyptic world, depiction of mourning, depiction of isolation, depiction of apprehension, depiction of romance, depiction of illness, depiction of chracter death, depiction of taking one's own life, mention of apocalytic world, mention of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of loneliness, mention of pining, mention of character death, mention of taking one's own life.;
WORD COUNT: 7.5k words
NOTE: i wrote this a long long time ago, but i feel like now it's seeing the light of day and im just excited for you to read it. i'll be working on plans for my first ever kinktober and other ideas i have in between. i hope that you're always well and that you enjoy this!!! love you <3
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┌────── ∘°❉°∘ ──────┐
IT WAS SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST NOW. The world had become a wasteland, overrun by the dead. Every day was a fight for survival, every night a battle against the darkness that crept into the mind as much as the world around.
You had been on the move for what felt like an eternity, traveling alone, scavenging for food, and fighting off the relentless hordes that had once been people. You had become a ghost in your own skin, haunted by memories of a time when the world was alive.
It was by chance that you stumbled upon the compound—a fortress of steel and stone, hidden deep within the woods, far from the crumbling cities and the walking dead. Exhausted and on the verge of collapse, you approached cautiously, knowing that desperation made even the living dangerous. The compound's walls were tall and unyielding, and it seemed impossible to breach. But desperation drives people to do reckless things, and you need safety, if only for a moment.
You had barely stepped into the clearing when you heard the unmistakable click of a rifle being cocked. You froze, heart pounding, every muscle tensing as you slowly raised your hands in surrender.
"Don’t move." The voice was low, firm, and edged with the kind of cold precision that came from years of surviving on instinct alone. You turned your head slightly, just enough to see him—a tall figure, half-hidden in the shadows of the trees, with a rifle trained directly on you. His eyes, dark and unreadable, never wavered as he took you in, calculating, deciding.
"I’m not here to cause trouble." you managed, keeping your voice steady despite the fear tightening your throat.
"That’s what they all say." His words were clipped, distrust lacing every syllable. He took a step closer, still keeping the rifle leveled at your head. "Turn around, slowly."
You did as he ordered, moving slowly, deliberately, until you were facing him fully. He was closer now, close enough that you could see the weariness etched into his features, the hardened lines of someone who had seen too much, lost too much. But there was something else, too—something in his eyes, a flicker of recognition, as if he saw a reflection of himself in you.
"How long have you been out here?" he asked, his voice rougher now, less controlled.
"Long enough." you replied, your gaze locked with his. "Long enough to know when I’ve met someone who’s been through the same hell."
He frowned, his grip on the rifle tightening as he studied you, weighing your words against the danger you might pose. But then, slowly, the suspicion in his eyes gave way to something softer, something that looked almost like… understanding.
"What’s your name?" he asked, the question coming out more gently than you expected.
You hesitated for a moment before answering. "Does it matter?"
"It does if you want to live." His tone was blunt, but there was a trace of something more behind it—a quiet offer, a tentative step toward trust.
You swallowed the weight of the past weeks, months, pressing down on you. "I’m just trying to survive."
He nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible motion. "So am I." He let out a slow breath, lowering the rifle slightly but not entirely. "Suguru. Geto Suguru."
You didn’t dare move, watching him carefully as he took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re lucky I found you before the dead did."
"Maybe." you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Or maybe you’re the lucky one."
He raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "We’ll see about that." Then, after a long pause, he sighed, finally lowering the rifle completely. "Come with me. But if you try anything, I won’t hesitate."
You nodded, relief washing over you despite the lingering tension. "I won’t."
As he turned and motioned for you to follow, you could sense the caution in every step he took, the way he moved with the fluid grace of someone always prepared for the worst. And yet, there was something else—a strange comfort in the fact that, for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone.
He took you in, but it was clear that trust was not something he gave easily. The compound was his sanctuary, built with his own hands, and he guarded it with an intensity that bordered on obsession. The first few days were tense; you were wary of each other, moving around each other like predators unsure of whether to fight or flee. He was quiet, watchful, and kept his emotions locked away behind a wall of suspicion.
But you were no stranger to walls, and slowly, brick by brick, the two of you began to dismantle them. It started with the small things—shared meals, the exchange of supplies, moments of silence that were less about fear and more about understanding. You discovered that beneath his tough exterior, Suguru had a passion for music. In the evenings, when the world outside grew too dark to bear, he would pull out an old guitar, his fingers strumming out melodies that spoke of a time before the end.
You, too, had your own love for music, and in those quiet moments, the two of you found a connection. The songs you shared became a language of their own, one that spoke of loss, hope, and the fragile bond forming between you. Music was your refuge, a reminder that there was still beauty in the world, even if it was buried beneath layers of fear and grief.
The days began to blur together, a steady rhythm of routine and survival. Each morning, you would wake to the faint light filtering through the thick curtains of the compound, the sounds of the outside world muffled by the walls that separated you from the chaos beyond. The danger was always there, lurking just beyond the gates, but within the safety of Suguru’s compound, life had found a different pace.
At first, your interactions with Suguru were brief and cautious, a necessary coexistence born out of mutual need. But as the days turned into weeks, the initial wariness between you began to fade, replaced by a tentative friendship. The man who had once held a gun to your head now greeted you each morning with a nod and a hint of a smile, a gesture that brought a surprising warmth to your otherwise cold and uncertain world. His presence, once a source of tension, had become something you looked forward to, a strange sense of peace in the midst of madness.
One of the few luxuries you both shared was a love of food—a small pleasure in a world where every meal had become a fight against starvation. In this new reality, the art of cooking had taken on a different meaning. It was no longer about indulging in flavors or crafting elaborate dishes, but rather about survival, about making the most of what little you could find. And yet, even in this, there was comfort.
Together, you would scour the surrounding areas for supplies, salvaging whatever you could from the abandoned homes and overgrown gardens. It was a slow, careful process—one wrong move could attract unwanted attention, and resources were scarce. But the shared task brought a sense of camaraderie, a quiet understanding that neither of you had to face this alone.
In the evenings, when the world outside grew dark and foreboding, you would gather in the small kitchen, working together to prepare your meals. The ingredients were humble—canned goods, dried beans, the occasional fresh vegetable from a patch of land Suguru had managed to cultivate—but it didn’t matter. The act of cooking became a ritual, something that grounded you both, reminding you that life was more than just surviving day to day. 
Suguru was surprisingly skilled in the kitchen, his movements efficient and precise as he chopped vegetables or stirred a pot over the fire. He had a way of turning the simplest ingredients into something comforting, something that made the compound feel more like a home. You would watch him sometimes, marveling at the way he found solace in such a small task, and slowly, you began to join him, contributing your own skills to the process.
"How did you learn to cook like this?" you asked one evening as you worked side by side, your hands busy preparing a stew from the last of the potatoes you had found.
Suguru glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Necessity, mostly. My parents weren’t around much, so I had to fend for myself. Turns out, I’m pretty good at making something out of nothing."
You nodded, stirring the pot as the aroma of the stew began to fill the room. "It’s a useful skill, especially now."
"Yeah, I suppose." he agreed, his tone softer now. "It’s one of the few things that still feels normal."
The meals you shared became more than just a way to stave off hunger—they were moments of connection, brief respites from the harshness of the world outside. As you ate together, you found yourselves talking more, sharing stories of the lives you had left behind, the people you had lost, and the hopes you still held on to, however fragile they might be. These conversations, once stilted and brief, grew longer, more personal, as the walls between you crumbled bit by bit.
Each meal was a small victory, a reminder that despite everything, you were still alive, still human. The warmth of the food, the sound of your voices filling the silence, and the flicker of the firelight against the walls—all of it made the world outside seem a little less bleak. And in those moments, you realized that within the confines of the compound, you had found something precious: a sense of normalcy, a connection with another person that transcended the mere act of survival.
One evening, as the sun dipped low in the sky, you both sat by the fire in the small living area. Suguru was strumming his guitar, the soft melody filling the space between you. The sound of the music was soothing, a rare comfort in the chaos that surrounded you. You found yourself watching him, the way his fingers moved deftly over the strings, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Where’d you learn to play like that?" you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Suguru glanced up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Picked it up a long time ago. It helped… before all this." He gestured vaguely to the world outside, the unspoken horrors hanging heavy in the air.
You nodded, understanding what he meant without needing more words. "I used to play too, back when things were different." The memories were bittersweet, but they didn’t hurt as much as they used to, not here, not with him.
Suguru looked at you with a hint of curiosity. "What did you play?"
"Mostly piano. But I messed around with the guitar a bit too." You shrugged, trying to sound casual, but there was a lingering sadness in your voice that you couldn’t quite hide.
"Maybe you should give it a try again." he said, holding out the guitar to you.
You hesitated, your fingers itching to touch the instrument but also afraid of what it might bring up. Suguru noticed your hesitation and added softly. "It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought… maybe it would help."
His words, spoken with such gentle understanding, made something inside you soften. You took the guitar from him, your fingers awkwardly finding the chords, the muscle memory slowly returning. The notes came out shaky at first, but as you continued, the music began to flow more naturally, filling the space with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Suguru watched you, his expression unreadable but his eyes soft. "You’re good." he said quietly, and for a moment, the world outside seemed distant and unreal, like a bad dream you could wake up from.
You smiled, a real, genuine smile that felt strange on your face after so long. "Thanks. It’s been a while."
He nodded, leaning back against the wall, his gaze still on you. "It’s nice, having someone to share this with." His voice was low, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to you.
You met his eyes, something unspoken passing between you. "Yeah, it is."
With each passing day, the bond between you and Suguru grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of shared moments and growing intimacy. The days, once filled with routine and duty, now held a deeper meaning. You found yourself eagerly anticipating his presence, whether it was during the long, often monotonous hours patrolling the perimeter or in the quieter, more serene moments spent together in the kitchen.
During these patrols, the silence between you was no longer uncomfortable but rather a comfortable companion. You’d exchange glances and smiles, the unspoken understanding adding warmth to the cool, night air. These simple interactions became a cherished part of your day, a reminder that even in a world fraught with danger and uncertainty, there were small, precious joys to be found.
Cooking together was a ritual that both of you cherished. Every meal you prepared was more than just sustenance; it was a shared experience, a small victory over the harsh realities of the world outside. Suguru, with his surprisingly deft culinary skills, brought an element of surprise and delight to these moments. His laughter would fill the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of whatever you were preparing, creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie.
These cooking sessions were more than just about the food. They were about the small, tender moments that punctuated your days—Suguru's playful teasing as you fumbled with ingredients, the quiet, shared satisfaction of a well-made meal, and the deep conversations that flowed as easily as the spices you mixed. Each meal was a testament to the connection you were nurturing, a symbol of your growing closeness.
In these shared moments, whether in the midst of patrols or while cooking, you found solace and joy. The simple act of preparing food together became a grounding ritual, reminding you both of the warmth and safety you had found in each other’s company. Through the laughter, the shared tasks, and the quiet companionship, your relationship deepened, finding strength in the everyday moments that brought you closer together.
As you were washing up after dinner, Suguru spoke, his voice hesitant. "You know, I never thought I’d let anyone into this place. It was supposed to be… just for me."
You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "What changed?"
He didn’t answer right away, drying the dishes in silence before finally turning to you. "I guess… I got tired of being alone."
There was a raw honesty in his words that made your heart ache. "I know the feeling too well, I suppose." you admitted, your voice soft. "I didn’t realize how much I needed this—needed someone—until I found you."
He stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "We’ve both lost so much, you know?" he said quietly. "But maybe… maybe we can find something here. Something worth holding on to."
You looked up at him, your breath catching as you saw the way he was looking at you—like you were something precious, something worth protecting. "Suguru…" you began, but the words caught in your throat, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.
He reached out, his hand gently brushing against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "You don’t have to say anything." he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that took you by surprise. "Just… stay with me."
You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as the world outside seemed to fade away. "I’m not going anywhere, Suguru." you promised, your voice barely more than a whisper.
And in that moment, as Suguru’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, you knew that despite everything you had lost, you had found something here—something real, something worth fighting for. The world outside was still a nightmare, but in his embrace, you felt safe. You felt… home.
The fire crackled softly and the scent of a simple stew filled the air, you sat together in the small kitchen. Suguru’s hand brushed against yours as he handed you a bowl, the brief contact sending a jolt through you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no fear, no death—only the warmth of his gaze, the unspoken understanding that had grown between you.
You reached out, your fingers gently grazing him, and this time, he didn’t pull away. The kiss that followed was soft, tentative, as if testing the waters of a new reality. It wasn’t born out of desperation or fear but something genuine, something that had been building between you since the day you met. In that moment, you realized that amidst the ruins of the world, you had found something worth fighting for—each other.
Suguru was still the survivalist, still cautious, still guarded. But with you, he was different. He let you in, allowed you to see the man behind the walls, the one who had survived not just the apocalypse, but the loneliness that came with it. And in return, you gave him the one thing he had lost faith in—hope.
In the silence of survival, you and Suguru found a new life, not just as survivors, but as something more. The world outside was still a nightmare, but within the walls of the compound, there was music, there was food, and there was love. And that was enough.
┌────── ∘°❉°∘ ──────┐
THE WORLD CHANGED IN A BLINK OF AN EYE. The years passed, and in the midst of the crumbling world, you and Suguru had found a fragile but undeniable happiness together.
Despite the constant fight for survival, the fear, and the uncertainty, you had managed to carve out a life within the walls of his compound—a life filled with small moments of peace, warmth, and a deep bond that had grown stronger with each passing day.
The two of you had become each other's anchor, weathering the storms of the world outside and the storms within yourselves. There were still fights, of course—heated arguments born out of the stress and the pain that never quite left—but they always ended the same way: with apologies, with understanding, with the reassurance that no matter how much the world tried to tear you apart, you would find your way back to each other.
You wanted to stay together, no matter what. The future was uncertain, but you had each other, and that was enough.
Or at least, it had been. Until the day you found out.
The sickness began as a dull ache, a persistent discomfort that you initially attributed to the everyday strains of fatigue or stress. You tried to dismiss it, telling yourself it was just a part of the routine hardships you faced. But the pain didn’t relent. Instead, it began to spread, a creeping malice that invaded your very bones, draining your energy and will.
As the days turned into weeks, the ache evolved into a relentless torment. Tasks that once seemed trivial became monumental efforts, and the weight of the pain became increasingly unbearable.
It was as if every step you took, every breath you drew, was a reminder of the encroaching shadow that threatened to envelop you. Eventually, the denial you clung to was no longer tenable. The truth, harsh and unyielding, crashed down upon you with the force of a relentless storm.
The diagnosis was a devastating blow—terminal, with no hope for a cure. It felt as if your world had crumbled, leaving you in a hollow space where hope once resided. The words of the doctor reverberated in your mind, each syllable a brutal reminder of your fate.
You struggled to process the enormity of what was unfolding before you, your mind overwhelmed by the realization that the future you had envisioned with Suguru was slipping through your grasp.
The dreams you had nurtured—of a shared life, of enduring together through the hardships of this cruel world—were now tainted by the bitter reality of your diagnosis. The vision of growing old side by side, of finding solace in each other amidst the chaos, seemed like nothing more than fragile, shattered illusions. The life you had carefully built, the hope you had cherished, were being torn away by a fate you could not escape.
Each day became a battle, not just against the encroaching illness but against the crushing weight of despair. The future that had once seemed so vibrant and full of promise now appeared as a distant, unreachable horizon. Your heart ached with the knowledge that the time you had left was no longer measured in hopes and dreams, but in the stark reality of counting down to an inevitable end.
In this bleak landscape, the love you had with Suguru became both a source of immense comfort and profound sorrow. It was a bittersweet reminder of what you were losing and what you still cherished.
And as you faced the unbearable truth, you clung to the moments of shared love and companionship, knowing that while the future was uncertain and fleeting, the bond you had forged with Suguru was a source of strength in your darkest hours.
Telling Suguru was the hardest thing you had ever done. When the moment came to share the news, you felt a heavy weight pressing on your chest. Each word felt like it was tearing apart the fragile fabric of hope that had been woven between you. You struggled to find the right words, but the gravity of the situation rendered you almost speechless. Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, you uttered the truth.
As you spoke, you could see the light in Suguru's eyes dim, his once-vibrant gaze becoming clouded with an overwhelming sense of despair. It was as if your words were a heavy fog rolling in, obscuring the clarity and warmth that had once defined his expression. The impact was immediate and devastating. The hope and dreams you had shared seemed to drain from him, leaving a hollow, heart-wrenching emptiness in their wake.
Suguru’s reaction was one of stunned silence. He didn’t say anything at first. His gaze was fixed on you, but it was distant, almost as if he were looking through you rather than at you. His expression was frozen, a complex mix of disbelief, shock, and profound sadness. It was as though the words you had spoken were so unfathomable that he struggled to process their meaning, as if accepting them was too great a burden for his heart to bear.
The silence that followed was heavy, laden with unspoken words and emotions. You could see him grappling with the reality of what you had just revealed, his mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of your situation. The anguish etched on his face was a mirror to your own, reflecting the profound sense of loss and heartbreak that had suddenly become your shared reality.
"No." he finally whispered, his voice cracking. "No, this can’t be happening."
You reached out, your hand trembling as you took his, squeezing it tightly. "I’m so sorry, Suguru. I wish there was something we could do, but—"
"But there has to be." he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening almost to the point of pain. "There has to be something. We’ve survived so much… we can find a way through this too."
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "I wish that were true. But this… this is different. There’s no fighting this."
He pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly that it almost hurt, as if he could keep you with him through sheer force of will. His breath was ragged against your hair, and you felt the way his body trembled with the effort to hold back his tears.
"We were supposed to be together, baby." he choked out, his voice thick with grief. "We were supposed to make it."
"I know, I know." you whispered, your own tears spilling over. "I wanted that too. I still do. But…"
"But what?" he demanded, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes desperate. "We can’t just give up."
"I’m not giving up, Suguru." you said, your voice trembling with the effort to stay strong. "But we have to face the truth. This is happening, and we can’t stop it."
The devastation in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you saw the way he struggled to keep himself together, to be strong for you even as his world fell apart. "What do we do now?" he asked, his voice small, almost childlike.
"We keep going." you said, trying to sound more certain than you felt. "We make the most of the time we have left. We keep fighting, but… we don’t fight each other. We spend every moment we can together, and we make them count."
He nodded, though the movement was slow, reluctant, as if he still couldn’t quite accept what you were saying. "I don’t want to lose you, baby." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I can’t lose you."
You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. "You won’t lose me, Suguru. Not really. I’ll always be with you, even if… even if I’m not here."
His eyes squeezed shut, and he pulled you close again, his grip almost desperate. "I love you. I love you more than anything in this world." he whispered, the words heavy with all the emotion he had been holding back. "I love you so much."
"I love you too, my love. My Suguru." you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. "I always will."
And so, in the midst of the overwhelming sorrow, you held each other, finding solace in the warmth of each other’s embrace. The world outside still raged on, but in that moment, you had each other, and that was all that mattered. You would face the darkness together, hand in hand, and whatever time you had left, you would make it count.
┌────── ∘°❉°∘ ──────┐
BY THE TIME SPRING CAME, EVERYTHING UNRAVELED. The sickness had steadily worsened, each day stealing more of your strength and vitality, chipping away at the life you had fought so hard to hold onto. The once-manageable discomfort had evolved into a constant, gnawing ache, a relentless companion that shadowed your every move.
The pain was unyielding, a dull throb that seemed to seep into every corner of your existence. Alongside it came a profound exhaustion, a weariness so deep it felt as if you were weighed down by a leaden blanket, sapping your energy and spirit.
As the days passed, you became acutely aware that your time was running out. The inevitable reality of your condition loomed ever closer, and the thought of leaving Suguru behind was almost unbearable.
The idea of him witnessing your slow decline, of watching you waste away, was a source of deep, unrelenting sorrow. It was a burden that neither of you should have to endure, and the thought of him bearing witness to such suffering made the situation all the more poignant.
One evening, as you sat together in the small, dimly lit living room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth provided a stark contrast to the heaviness of the moment. The flickering light danced across the room, casting warm, gentle shadows, but it did little to ease the weight of the decision that loomed over you. You glanced at Suguru, his presence both a source of comfort and a reminder of the pain you were about to inflict.
The warmth of the fire seemed to mock the cold reality you faced. Each crackle of the flames was a stark reminder of the life that was slipping away from you, a life that you had shared so intimately with Suguru. The room, once a sanctuary of shared joy and quiet moments, now felt suffused with a profound sadness. You could see the concern and love etched into Suguru’s face, and it made your heart ache even more.
You knew that making this decision was necessary, even though it would hurt him deeply. The thought of continuing in your current state—becoming a burden rather than a partner, an encumbrance rather than a companion—was untenable. The inevitable end was approaching, and you could no longer ignore the fact that your suffering was taking a toll on both of you.
As you faced Suguru, your heart felt like it was shattering with the weight of your decision. You had chosen to speak the truth, to acknowledge the unbearable reality of your situation. It was a choice made out of love and respect, even though it meant confronting the deep, painful truth of your own mortality and the heartache it would cause Suguru.
In those quiet moments by the fire, the decision was clear, but the pain of it was profound. The love you had for Suguru and the desire to protect him from further suffering guided your choice, even as it tore at your own heart. The warmth of the fire contrasted sharply with the chill of the reality you faced, a reminder of the fleeting nature of the life and love you both had cherished.
"Suguru, my love." you began, your voice weak but steady, "I need to ask you something."
He turned to you, concern etched in his features. "What is it? Do you need something? More water? Some painkillers?" He was always trying to do something, anything, to ease your suffering, even when there was little that could be done.
You shook your head, reaching out to take his hand. "No, it’s not that. It’s… I want you to help me end it. When the time comes, I don’t want to… I don’t want to linger."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, Suguru just stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. Then, he pulled his hand away, his expression hardening as he shook his head violently.
"No, baby." he said, his voice firm and almost angry. "No, I’m not doing that. I’m not giving up on you. We’ll find something—there’s got to be something out there that can help. We’ll go out tomorrow, search the surrounding towns. There has to be something… anything…"
"Suguru, my love. Please. Understand me." you interrupted gently, your heart breaking at the desperation in his voice. "We’ve tried. We’ve been searching for months, and nothing has changed. You know it as well as I do—there’s nothing left to find."
"I can’t!" he snapped, his voice rising. "I can’t lose you like this! We’ve survived so much together. We can get through this too. I’ll find a way, I swear."
You reached out again, this time cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Suguru, my love." you whispered, tears filling your eyes. "I’m dying. We both know it. Please… don’t make this harder than it already is."
He broke then, his shoulders shaking as he crumbled before you. "I can’t live without you, baby." he choked out, tears streaming down his face. "You’re all I have left. If you go… if you leave me… I don’t know what I’ll do."
"You’ll keep going. You must." you said softly, your own tears spilling over. "You’re strong, Suguru. You’ve always been strong. You’ll find a way to survive, even without me."
He shook his head, his hands gripping yours tightly, as if he could anchor you to the world through sheer force of will. "I don’t want to survive without you, baby." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not there."
You pulled him into your arms, holding him close as he cried against your shoulder, his grief tearing through him like a storm. "I know. I know that." you whispered, your own heart shattering with every sob that wracked his body. "I know it’s hard. But you have to promise me you’ll try. Promise me you’ll keep going, for both of us."
He clung to you, his breath ragged as he tried to pull himself together. "I don’t know if I can." he admitted, his voice small and broken. "I don’t know how to do this without you."
"You can, my love." you insisted, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "You’re stronger than you think, Suguru. You’ve already done so much. But before I go… There's something I want to do. Something that will give meaning to all of this."
He frowned, confusion flickering in his tear-filled eyes. "What do you mean?"
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to say the words. "I want to marry you, my love." you said, your voice trembling. "I want to be your wife, even if it’s just for a little while. I want to give meaning to this life, to what we’ve been through together. Please… let’s do this, Suguru. Let’s make it real."
He stared at you, his eyes widening in surprise and disbelief as if trying to process the gravity of what you had just said. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken fears and raw emotions. You held your breath, the weight of his potential rejection pressing down on you. The thought that he might find the idea too painful to accept was almost unbearable, adding to the already intense sorrow that filled the room.
But then, as if struggling to come to terms with the inevitable, he began to nod slowly. The initial shock in his eyes gave way to a profound sadness, and his expression softened, becoming a mixture of resignation and tender understanding. The lines of his face, once tense with disbelief, relaxed as he reached out to you.
With gentle, deliberate movements, he cupped your face in his hands. The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the cold reality of the situation, a soothing balm against the sharp edges of your sorrow. His hands, though trembling slightly, were steady in their tenderness, conveying a depth of love and acceptance that words alone could not express. 
As he held you, his gaze locked onto yours, searching for reassurance and finding it in the depths of your shared experiences and unspoken bond. The moment was both heart-wrenching and profoundly intimate, a testament to the strength of your connection and the pain of facing such a difficult decision together.
"Okay, baby." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Okay. We’ll do it. I’ll marry you. We’ll do it right here, right now."
Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, a small, trembling smile breaking through the sorrow. "Thank you, my love." you whispered, your voice cracking. "Thank you, Suguru."
He pulled you into his arms again, holding you close as you both cried, the weight of what was to come hanging heavy over you. But in that moment, you were together, and that was all that mattered. You would marry him, give meaning to your lives, and in the time you had left, you would make every moment count.
Even as the darkness closed in, you knew that you had found something beautiful in the midst of the horror—a love that would last beyond the end, a bond that would never truly be broken.
┌────── ∘°❉°∘ ──────┐
IT WAS SUCH A NICE DAY FOR A WEDDING. The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room as you and Suguru prepared for the day that would be both your wedding and your farewell. It was a day you had both dreaded and longed for, a day that would bring a bittersweet end to the journey you had shared together.
Suguru had spent the early hours of the morning in the kitchen, determined to make this day as special as he could. He cooked you the best meals he could manage with the limited supplies you had, pouring his heart into every dish.
The aroma of roasted vegetables, tender meat, and freshly baked bread filled the small compound, a testament to the love and care he had poured into every bite. He even brought out the best wine he had been saving in the cellar—a bottle that had survived the apocalypse, waiting for a moment just like this.
When he returned to the bedroom, he found you dressed in your best—an old dress you had found while scavenging, simple but elegant, its soft fabric hugging your frail form. Suguru had dressed in his finest as well, his dark shirt and trousers clean and pressed, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The sight of him took your breath away, and you smiled, despite the sorrow that weighed on your heart.
"You look beautiful, baby." he whispered as he approached, his voice thick with emotion.
"And you look handsome, my love." you replied, your voice trembling as you reached out to straighten his collar.
The two of you stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of each other, committing it to memory. Then, with a deep breath, you took his hand, and together you made your way to the small living room, where the morning light streamed through the windows, bathing the space in a soft, golden glow. There were no guests, no officiant, no flowers or rings. It was just the two of you, standing together in the light, your hands clasped tightly as you exchange your vows.
"I, Suguru, take you, my love, to be my wife." he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. "In this life, and whatever comes after, I promise to love you, to hold you close, to cherish every moment we have together. No matter what happens, you will always be my heart."
Tears welled in your eyes as you repeated the words, your voice trembling. "I, take you, Suguru, to be my husband. I promise to love you, to be by your side, to find joy in the little things, even in this broken world. You’ve given me a reason to keep going, and I will carry that with me, always."
With that, you both leaned in, sealing your vows with a gentle kiss, a promise made under the watchful eye of the morning sun. When you pulled back, there were tears in both your eyes, but there were also smiles—small, fragile smiles that spoke of a love that had endured the darkest of times.
The day passed in a blur of quiet joy and melancholy. Suguru insisted on dancing, and you found yourselves swaying together to the soft, nostalgic notes of Vera Lynn’s "We’ll Meet Again," playing from an old record player Suguru had somehow managed to keep running.
The song filled the room with its haunting melody, a promise of reunion in a world beyond this one. You held each other close, moving slowly, savoring every second, every touch, as if by doing so, you could make time stop.
As night fell, the reality of what was to come settled over you both. There was no turning back now, no more delaying the inevitable. You returned to the bedroom, where the bed had been carefully made, its soft blankets a welcome comfort against the cold that had settled into your bones. You climbed into bed, and Suguru followed, sitting beside you, his hand resting gently on yours.
You turned to look at him, your heart aching with the knowledge that these were your final moments together. "Suguru, my love." you began, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you to live. Even after I’m gone, I want you to find a way to keep going. Please… promise me you’ll try."
His grip on your hand tightened, and he shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "What sort of life is that without you?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "You’re everything to me. I don’t know how to keep going if you’re not here."
"You’re stronger than you think, my love." you whispered, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. "You’ve always been strong, Suguru. You’ve saved me so many times… now, you need to save yourself. Please… for me."
He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, his breath shuddering as he tried to hold himself together. "I don’t want to let you go, baby." he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I don’t know how."
"You don’t have to let me go, my love." you replied, your own tears slipping down your cheeks. "I’ll always be with you. In every memory, every moment we shared. You’ll carry me with you, no matter what."
He nodded, though it was clear the idea of life without you was unbearable. "I love you, baby." he whispered, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that words could barely contain. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." you whispered back, your voice trembling. "Now… let’s make this last moment count."
With that, he leaned in, kissing you gently, as if trying to pour all the love he had for you into that one moment. You kissed him back, holding him close, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart—a rhythm you had come to know and love, a sound you would carry with you into the dark.
When the kiss ended, you settled back against the pillows, the familiar softness providing a modicum of comfort in the midst of your pain. Suguru lay beside you, his arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that spoke of his deep, abiding love. Together, you both faced the uncertain future, finding solace in each other's presence as the night stretched on.
The silence of the room was broken only by the soft sound of your breathing, a gentle rhythm that seemed to anchor you both in the present moment. Despite the gravity of what lay ahead, you felt an unexpected sense of peace settle over you. In those final moments, the relentless tide of fear and pain receded, leaving only the pure, unadulterated essence of love.
There was no longer any room for fear or anguish—only the profound understanding that you had found something truly beautiful amidst the horror. You had loved deeply, and you had been loved in return. That realization, though bittersweet, provided a profound sense of fulfillment. It was a reminder that, even in the face of the inevitable, the love you shared had given meaning to your time together.
As the night deepened, you clung to each other, savoring the last precious moments of closeness. Suguru’s presence was a comforting embrace, a final refuge before you slipped away. The world outside seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the cocoon of your shared love.
When the end finally came, Suguru was left with a heartache so profound it felt almost unbearable. He gazed at your lifeless body, the weight of your absence crashing over him like a tidal wave. Tears streamed down his face, each drop an echo to the depth of his grief. He struggled with the harsh reality of living without you, the very thought of continuing without you seemed inconceivable.
In a final, tender gesture, he brushed the hair away from your face, his fingers lingering in a gentle caress. A faint smile touched his lips, though it was laced with sorrow.
“I’m following you soon, my love. Forgive me.” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. He lets out a smile against the tears.
He takes a look at the drink you drank, laced with laudenum and whiskey. A last hurrah took you away. And he wants that too. He wants to be with you. He stands up to take it and tells himself that it would be okay. Soon, you'll be together again. He gives himself visions of paradise, where you aren't sick anymore. A paradise where you could enjoy life together.
He smiles again, wiping his tears with his free hand and drank the same drink. He puts away the glass and lays down beside you. Everything was going to handle itself somehow, he knew that well enough.
His left hand lingers against the tips of your hair, brushing them as he would have when you were alive. He would be doing that for eternity in the afterlife. Like he always wanted.
For the last moments of Geto Suguru's life, he catches a glimpse of the shine of his wedding ring and yours. As though the light leading him to the other side. He closes his purple eyes slowly for the final time and feels everything be in its place for the first time in a long time.
Years later, when survivors find your bodies lingering in the eternal warmth only both you could provide, they read words on a small card on a coffee table.
"Leave us be on the graveyards we chose. Let us live eternity like this together."
And they do. They leave you be. Because the smile on your faces was enough to know this was where you belonged. Together.
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hurlingdown · 15 days ago
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Please 🍶 anon. I’m a married man 👉💍
Though that does give me so many good ideas..
Pretending to be Muzan’s husband, a slayer finding you both in the cities so you have to press him against the wall and kiss him breathless to keep undercover. One thing leads to another and you’re fucking him in both his female and male form. He is humiliated with the noises he’s making and the way his body is trembling in your hold, he’s almost tempted to kill you.. but then you give him the most earth shattering orgasm and suddenly you’re his right hand man. Fucking him in every room of the infinity castle, sucking him off against the tree in the middle of an abandoned path, eating him out bent over against a well in the middle of a town during the night.
He even slips up and calls you his husband to one of the upper moons.
Toji getting married for money.. unhappy but not on the streets. His fat, rich husband dragging him to a fancy party - he’s bored out of his mind but he’ll do anything for a bag, and then he feels eyes on the back of his head - a cursed spirit under the guise of a tall, handsome businessman, watching him with burning insatiable need.
Toji’s done a lot of fucked up things for money, but none of them felt this good. Back arching as the curse fucks him deep and hard, his stupid husband calling his name as he gets fucked in the bathroom stall. Another fat wad of cash shoved between his tits to answer him, calling out that he’s fine and he’ll be out in a minute as your second set of hands begins to stroke and prod at his already stuffed hole.
Maybe big bad husband Crocodile finding no other option to discipline Buggy, calling you in - his prized bodyguard - to fuck some manners into the clown. Grabbing a hold of his bottom half as Mihawk grabs his head, forcing him to look as you and Crocodile kiss atop his decapitated body, your cock sinking inside him slowly.
Or even being Caesar Clowns ‘Work husband’ - a title he gave you and pretended everyone else gave it to you and he was disgusted by the prospect, though he never once stopped using it - you’re his assistant, bringing him snacks and drinks, getting files and viles.
One day bringing him a magenta vile labelled ‘dangerous’ ‘do not drink’ ‘do not inhale’, you’re oh so careful with this stupid little bottle when you’re tripped - Caesars tendril of smoke whisping back into his cloud coat. But instead of the vile landing on you like he had planned, it lands straight into his big mouth, draining the contents as his face turns bright red. Not even a minute later he’s leaking and begging you on his hands and knees that he needs your babies in him, he needs your dick inside of him and for you to breed him like livestock. Fucking little creep was trying to roofie you, well now you had all the means for some revenge.
Anyway, the bunny Zoro fic was fucking delicious. I need that bunny boy to come back whining for reader to cuddle and snuggle and fuck him stupid again.
Love you Hurlers.
- 🐉
Btw, have you watched My Hero? I have been trying to find someone to talk about All Might with. The way they have him in this newest episode has my dick drippinggg 😫😫
MUZAN AND TOJI??? WHAT A GOOD DAY TO BE ALIVE. just finished reading another banger thirst in my inbox and then i'm placed face to face with this. i seriously love you all.
no kidding. sugar baby toji is the singular best take on his character in the world of fanfics, and reader being a curse fits so well, i'm in awe. and caesar clown and aphrodisiacs mix so well, holy fucking shit. i'm going to be super busy after this month ends.
and yeah, i've watched mha. :) i'm not caught up with the latest two seasons, but i'm familiar with the lore up to s5. go ahead and rant about all might!!! thank you for the obscenely delicious thirsts!!!
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astarioffsimpmain · 10 months ago
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Cushioned Affections
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Gale x Astarion x F!Tav
Warnings: Poly relationship discussion; insecurity; mention of past relationship abuse
Synopsis: Tav is tired of waiting for Astarion to make his move, so she allows Gale to make his first. But will that put an end to her and her favorite vampire spawn?
Author's Note: I'm a day late, I know, but this fic is for the BG3 Holiday Fluffle 2023, hosted by @justporo with the prompt "Getting Cozy"!
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The chill that had settled over many of your nights in the last few months was slowly creeping its way into your days, infiltrating you and your motley crew through brisk winds that could cut through any armor and lay clothes, chilling you all to your very bones. The campfire became the favorite place of every one of your traveling companions - even Astarion, who usually preferred to observe the group’s frivolities from the entrance of his tent. But this evening, the aloof vampire had firmly wedged himself between you and your resident wizard, Gale, on one of the logs in front of the roaring flames. 
“There’s a perfectly clear spot next to Lae’zel, you know.” Gale mumbled, clearly unhappy with the current seating arrangements. 
“That seat could get me decapitated and I personally prefer to keep such beauty soundly attached, thank you very much.” Astarion replied haughtily, turning his nose up at the wizard’s suggestion before scooting closer to you, affronted. 
“Rightly assumed, spawn.” Lae’zel spat, not so much as glancing up from her soup bowl.
“Hah!” Astarion exclaimed triumphantly, sending a taunting expression Gale’s way as he wrapped his shawl tighter around his already cold body. 
“Well, I’m very glad you’ve joined us tonight, Stari.” you said, opening your arm to him and allowing him to snuggle close, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as your warmth enveloped him. “And Gale, thank you so much for the wonderful meal. I always forget I'm sleeping on the ground when you fix your soup.” 
The compliment settled in Gale’s cheeks as they tinged pink and a smile graced his lips for the first time since Astarion had forced the two of you apart. “Why thank you, Tav.” he sent a charming smile your way over the mess of white curls between you. “You flatter me too much.” 
“Yes, she does.” Lae’zel replied curtly, although she made no effort to hide her empty bowl. 
“Nah, this shit’s awesome, Gale.” Karlach piped up, already filling up her bowl for the third time. “Anybody need a warm-up?” 
“Me, if you would, Karlach.” Shadowheart passed her bowl across the fire to the tiefling, who grabbed it enthusiastically and held it between her palms as the flames beneath her skin crackled and popped to life for a few seconds before simmering down again. The contents of the bowl were now steaming as Karlach passed it back over to Shadowheart, who let out a pleased groan when the warmth hit her fingertips. 
“Thank you all.” Gale said, a pleased smile on his lips. “I’m glad I could deliver a measure of culinary satisfaction to our treacherously meager living accommodations.” 
“Darling, just say “thank you for the dick-stroking” and be done with it.” Astarion drawled, his eyes having lazily fallen closed once your fingers had wound their way into his hair. 
“I’ll have you know,” Gale’s voice rose as he spoke over Karlach and Shadowheart who had burst out laughing., “My honed verbosity is one of the most prevalent things that earned me a place as one of the most well-respected voices of wisdom in Waterdeep, and beyond.” 
“Oh yes, it was your tongue; of that I’m certain.” Astarion murmured, half asleep, and you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep the giggle from escaping as Karlach and Shadowheart descended into fits of cackling once again, while Lae’zel allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her lips. You even noticed Wyll choking back a chuckle over his soup. 
Gale shook his head disapprovingly, and you thought things may have gone too far until an amused smile crept across the wizard’s face and he shot you a quick glance with mirth dancing in his eyes. You smiled back at him, the chill of the evening all but melted away in the presence of your unlikely group of friends. 
After the fire had long since died, and many of your companions had retired to their own bedrolls in the shelter of their tents, you helped Gale clean up around the campfire, stacking bowls in on each other - deciding to wait for the warmth of the sun before taking them to the river to wash them out - and gathering the extra blankets to hoard for personal use. 
Astarion sat idly by, book in hand, while you both worked, only looking up from the pages and stretching languidly when you paused in front of him. “Well, darling, are you ready to hide away and curl up in our own little cocoon for the evening?” he cooed, batting his long eyelashes at you demurely. 
“Come on, Astarion, just say you’re desperate for a cuddle and be done with it.” Gale appeared over your shoulder smiling, pleased to have been given the chance to throw the words back in the vampire’s face. 
“Actually,” you stepped in front of Gale and swatted at him playfully. “Gale’s got a new volume of that Dark Elf tales I’ve been reading as of late, and he wanted to read a few chapters with me before we went our separate ways. Would you like to join us? I know how much you enjoy those stories.”
Astarion chortled dismissively, rolling his eyes. “I think I’d prefer freezing to death than getting anywhere near the “wizard of Waterdeep”’s personal stash.” 
You sighed, shrugging your shoulders and turning away. “Your choice. I’ll see you back in my tent afterwards either way. Although,” you pause, flipping your hair over your shoulder to match his dramatics. “It will be much warmer in Gale’s tent because we currently have all of the extra blankets. I do hope you’ll reconsider.” you teased, mimicking the vampire’s tonal lilt as you hoisted a few of the remaining blankets over your shoulder and walked off. In a few long strides, you caught up with Gale, who was struggling with his own bundle of blankets. 
“Do you think he’ll drop by?” his voice came out muffled, his face fully blocked from your vision by a mountain of fluff.
A giggle bubbled out of you, and you patted some of the blankets away from his eyes. A muffled “thank you” reached your ears. “I don’t know, but I hope so. I do wish he didn’t keep to himself so often; he shouldn’t be alone. But he has to choose to let in the warmth himself - and not just mine.” Gale nodded quietly - a rare occurrence - and led the way to his tent. 
You were ceaselessly amazed by the sheer number of books Gale Dekarios was able to keep with him; shelves upon shelves lined with volumes - everything from A Comprehensive History of Waterdeep to The Practicality of Learning the Weave and more - just waiting to dazzle you with the wonders inside. However, the books that caught your eye were front and center, at a perfect height for you - done intentionally, you had no doubt - was the Dark Elf trilogy, finally completed with a stunning hardback edition of Sojourn with a beautifully crafted image of the drow himself gracing the book jacket. 
“Gods, Gale, wherever did you find it?” you murmured softly, stroking the spine tenderly. 
"Ah, a wizard never reveals his secrets. But let’s just say, I do still have some influence in some of the cities we’ve passed through thus far, and was able to get my hands on a nice copy, just for you."
You clutched the book to your chest, beaming up at him from where you stood. "Thank you, Gale. Shall we read?" His heart skipped a beat, he thought, as he nodded and sat down amidst his pile of pillows and blankets and you settled in between his legs, your back pressing warmly against his chest as his arms wrapped around your front before his mind could even catch up with him. 
“Are- are you sure you and Astarion are just friends?” the words slipped from his lips and he cringed at himself, a large part of him fearing the question would bring you to your senses and he’d lose this intimate connection he’d found with you.
“No, I’m not.” you admitted softly and his heart dropped into his stomach, his arms wrapping tighter around you in anticipation of the loss. “But I’ve told him that I have feelings for you too, and I’ve told him that while I’m patient enough to wait for him, he needs to tell me to wait for him before I will. I’ve…” you paused, sniffling a little as the emotions welled up inside of you. “I’ve had my heart broken a lot by being led on, or by waiting for people who, in the end, chose someone else; someone more-” 
“Hey, shhh don’t do that.” Gale whispered in your ear, planting a chaste kiss there and squeezing you tight. “You’re plenty enough as you are, alright?” You nodded, breathing deep before continuing.
“I told him how much I care for him, and how much I’d like to have more with him. But I was also honest and told him how much I care for you, so I’ll tell you what I told him. If you need time, tell me to wait for you. Hopefully you’ll listen.” you mumbled the last part so softly that Gale could have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention. But your words, your touch, your presence was his whole world right now, and he couldn’t possibly miss the sadness and longing left hanging in the air once you fell quiet. 
“Well… I hope he’ll come around soon. But in the meantime, I don’t need to wait. I know my answer right now.” he murmured against your ear, reveling in the shudder that traveled the length of your spine in his hold. You turned your head just enough to lock your penetrating gaze with his, waiting for him to say the words. You wouldn’t settle for interpretations; not any longer. “I care for you, greatly, Tav. And if you find it in that beautiful heart of yours to save a place for me, I’d gladly reside there for the rest of my days.” 
“Gale,” you whispered, your eyes clouding over with unshed tears of relief that flooded you like a sudden storm. He caught the emotions with his lips on yours, alleviating some of the weight of the emotional burdens that you had carried with you for all too long, and a sob escaped into his mouth. He swallowed the pain and lapped it up with his eager tongue, desperate to comfort your aching soul as his hands explored your body. You moaned softly into the kiss before pulling away, a little giggle leaving your lips as you nuzzled into his neck. You bit your bottom lip, your smile threatening to overtake the rest of your face as Gale's hands ran the lengths of your arms and back. "We're supposed to be reading." You chuckled, and Gale’s own laughter rumbled through your body in response. 
"Then let us read, my sweet." He pressed a kiss to your temple and plucked the book from your hands, opening it to the first page before conjuring a few mage hands to do the rest while he wound his arms tightly back around you and began to read aloud. 
You had enjoyed several chapters of the book together when a shadow moving outside caught your attention. You silenced Gale with a hand held in the air, your body tensing as you reached for your sword. 
"Uhm… hello?"
The soft, tentative voice coming through the flap had your muscles relaxing immediately. "Astarion," you exhaled in relief and pulled the tent flap open. He stood there in little more than his ruffled undershirt and pants, shivering ever so slightly from the cold; his eyes a catastrophic blend of hope, fear, and vulnerability as they locked onto you. "Oh gods, Stari, come in here, you're freezing!" You fussed worriedly, opening your arms to him like you so often did, and you didn't miss the sudden ease of his sharp facial features as he gave in to your embrace, pulled to it like a moth to a flame, and settled into your arms like he belonged there. He did belong there. 
You walked backwards, enough to seal the tent flap behind the elf, before your fingers found his curls as they always did, and he sighed happily as you scratched his scalp. He nuzzled closer to you, his icy cold nose finding a home in the nape of your neck as you calmed him. "I'm so glad you came." You mumbled into his hair and he merely hummed in response, pulling you flush against him and trailing his hands up and down your spine. After several quiet moments of quiet repose in each other's arms, you pulled back enough to look Astarion in the eyes. 
"I-" He spluttered, his gaze flicking to Gale then back to you. "I really wanted to get a look at this book of yours, Gale. As Tav said, I enjoy the dark drow stories myself." He brushed some wrinkles out of his white shirt awkwardly and you took the opportunity to shoot Gale a deadly glare. Play along, it said. Or else.
"Of course." Gale chirped, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Well, it truly is a beauty, isn't it Tav?"
"Definitely." You smiled in silent thanks and reached for Astarion's hand, pressing the pad of a finger into one of his and allowing him to do the rest. "Come on. We're on chapter 5, but I'll give you a summary of what's happened so far." You sat down beside Gale, and Astarion beside you, and you launched into the details of what Astarion had missed in the first five chapters, forgetting the world around you and all of its present dangers: the tadpoles, the mindflayers, the Absolute, all of it, and diving into the adventure yet again. Gale glanced over at the new visitor in his tent, initially with dubiosity; he'd had no intention of sharing you if that's what it came down to. However, his resolve wavered ever so slightly once he took in the vampire’s face as he looked at you. Gale didn't know Astarion could even look like that: his features softened, the harsh lines and wrinkles missing from his pale face, and his eyes wide with wonder and- Gale paused, realization slamming into him at full force as the vermillion glint of the vampire's eyes in the candlelight revealed his secrets. Gale recognized that look. It was the same look he had in his eyes when he looked at you. 
Love. 
And as he watched, Gale saw the same look in your eyes, no matter which man they were trained upon. "Godsdamn it." He thought. "What in the hells am I going to do?" 
"That's all that's happened so far." You clapped your hands together as you finished catching Astarion up. "Shall we continue?" You turned your head to Gale who said nothing, only nodded and prepared to cast another set of Mage Hands. 
"W-wait, for a moment." Astarion stopped him hesitantly. "I'd- well, I'd like to say something first, Tav." 
"Oh, of course." You looked back at him, your eyes wide and curious. 
"I've been thinking about this for awhile, but I never really knew how to put it into words. However, I- ugh this is so ridiculously awkward with the wizard here too." He buried his face in his hands. 
"I can leave for a moment if you-"
"Gods. No, it involves you, sit down." Astarion huffed, waving his hand in Gale's direction. 
"Very well." Gale remained as he was, perched precariously on a pillow, his full attention on the vampire spawn. 
"I've realized lately that, that I've never had someone who cares for me before - not that I can remember, anyway. And no one that could possibly measure up to you." He said the words to your fingers, which he had wrapped up in his own and was fiddling with tenderly in his lap. "I don't want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you so, even when you told me how. It didn't feel quite right, it didn't fit. But I can say it now." He tilted his head up and met your eyes steadily. "I care for you, Tav. I- I need time to process whatever this is between us. But I don't want you to think I don't want you, because I do. And, if that package comes with a certain pompous wizard," he leveled Gale with a humored smirk. "Then I believe I could be alright with that arrangement. As long as he plays by the same rules we do, that is." 
Gale shot you a quizzical look. "You have to be patient and respect all of his boundaries." You explained, and Gale’s face fell into a sorrowful understanding. 
"Of course I would respect your wishes, Astarion. I may be the victim of some over-active hubris, a wildly inconvenient condition, and an intellect much larger than my single head can contain, but I am not a man without respect and understanding." 
"So… by all of that you mean yes." Astarion quipped and Gale chuckled. 
"Yes, Astarion, I mean yes." 
"Wait, hold on a moment." You sat up on your knees between them, looking back and forth at the two men you'd come to love so much, settling on the wizard. "Gale, are you saying you'd be alright with a 3 person relationship? I didn’t know that was something you'd ultimately agree to." 
"No definite answers yet. I'm working on it. Much like Astarion, the thought of being without you is slowly proving too much to bear. And perhaps having you around won't be too bad in the end, Astarion." 
"Oh thank you kindly for those inspiring compliments, Gale." Astarion rolled his eyes, but the growing smile on his lips told the truth of his thoughts on the matter, and you squeezed his hand with a sudden giddiness. 
"Anytime." Gale made a mock bow before sitting back down in the mess of pillows. "Now, are we going to read or shall I kick you both back out into the cold?" His mage hands appeared and he handed them the book. 
"You wouldn't!" You gasped playfully, scooting closer to him.
"Yes, yes, you're right, I wouldn't. Come here, both of you. If you're going to see the drawings you'd better get close." You resumed your place between Gale's legs and opened your arms to Astarion, who crawled in between yours and curled up against your chest like a cat, his head resting on your shoulder, glancing up at the book every now and again to admire the artwork, then planting tender kisses along your jawline before settling back into you. 
After several chapters more and an hour had gone by, Astarion purred softly against your chest while Gale rubbed your arm with one hand and Astarion's back with the other. Your hands were where they often found purchase - amidst soft white curls that were as light as air to your touch - , massaging small circles on the elf's head as he dozed, and you didn’t know how you could possibly be happier. You sighed blissfully, allowing your eyes to finally fall closed. 
"Goodnight Gale, goodnight Astarion." You mumbled, already halfway gone. 
"Goodnight, Tav." Gale whispered in your ear as you faded into a euphoric sleep, curled up between the men you loved; the men who loved you; the men who could possibly one day learn to love each other.
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whiskersz · 8 months ago
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Heyy, could u do a head canon/one shot (or anything else whatever u want) about fem angel!reader and adam just being cute together maybe her preening him like birds do bc I love to think of the angels just as big ass birds haha or anything else cute for that matter.
If u don't want to that's completely fine of course hope u have a great day/night!!
*taps fingers together* hey...I know I said I wouldn't post today but like, I'm a little silly!
Loved writing this even though it's short...enjoy!!
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Adam x Fem! Angel! Reader - Preening
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You sat behind Adam, facing his back on his king sized bed, a large towel laid underneath you and a couple products that you had grabbed from his bathroom placed beside you. In the warmth of a late afternoon, he had called you for an alleged emergency, and you, being the caring girlfriend that you were, had immediately rushed to his place.
The emergency had simply turned out to be a couple feathers out of place in his wings, but on further inspection he clearly needed a good preening session from your more expert hands.
“I told you to do this every now and again, Adam.” You gently scolded him, applying some smoothing cream starting from the base of his wings. He let out a content hum before retorting;
“Yeah, yeah. Already told you I do it enough times.”
“And how often do you mean by ‘enough times’?”
You couldn’t see it, but he rolled his eyes at the question.
“Like, once a week.” He heard you huff, “I’m a busy man, babe.”
You resisted nagging him, focusing on the task at hand instead. His feathers looked slightly rough, differently from yours and the other Angels’, who usually preened at least once a day. It was like taking care of your hair after all, you thought.
Glad that you didn’t have anything else to say, he lowered his gaze back on his phone, concentrating on some videogame he had recently downloaded to pass the time. He had this habit of keeping the volume really high no matter where he was, while you would’ve preferred to listen to the birds chirping outside and the gentle buzzing of the city in the distance, but you were too focused to complain now.
Fortunately he got bored of the game pretty quickly, allowing you to smooth out each feather with the cream in silence. You slowly got to the longer feathers of his left wing, which you had to get on your knees to reach since they were so far away. He tucked his wings in a bit to help you.
“Thank you darling, but I’m gonna need them to be sprawled out to do this properly.”
He let out a small ‘oh’ before stretching his wing out again, unhappy that his attempt to make this easier for you had gone to waste.
You kept working silently, helped by the orange-ish light coming from outside; his curtains had been hung to the side to let more light in.
Adam had to admit that feeling your hands work on his wings was rather relaxing; he rested his unmasked face against his hand and allowed himself to close his eyes. Had he been lying down, he was sure he would’ve fallen asleep.
You smiled and paused to gently kiss the back of his neck, a gesture he had grown fond of especially whilst you were preening his wings or he was busy trying to cook something in the kitchen.
“I love you.” you casually said, starting to work on his right wing.
“Love you too, angel face.”
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love-hatred-stuff · 2 years ago
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"Doll, don't ignore me, please. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you."
All he heard from you was some unhappy mumbling. You looked at him with annoyance before you disappeared into the bedroom. Something he wasn't used to at all. Something that made him feel like someone you might hate. His heart wrenched in sadness.
There's nothing in this world he could hate more than you being upset with him. It made him feel lonely and even more angry at himself than you probably were. It was torture.
Bucky continued to sit there at the kitchen island, his face in his palms, devastated. He loved you so dearly, you were his god damn life and now you wouldn't speak a word to him. It felt like a knife was stuck in his ribcage and he couldn't seem to get it out as long as you were so mad at him.
He knew a relationship couldn't always be perfect. But with you it was. Nothing was as easy as loving you every step of the way. Sure there were some ups and downs, but nothing that wasn't fast to be solved.
He sighed in desperation. He didn't know how to make you talk to him again. All he could give you was some space. But it was your choice if you wanted to forgive him or not in the end. He knew that.
So he waited. Smoked more than usual, drank more than usual. On a Tuesday? Didn't matter as long as you wouldn't give him another chance.
He wrote you an apology letter, a love letter, bought your favourite flowers everyday.
He was lost without your love and everyone knew that. It was hard to overlook. You two weren't just lovers, you two were partners, friends, soulmates and everything in between. Bucky cherished the ground you walked on. Because you were always there as his emotional support, you calmed him down, made him feel safe and complete. He needed you.
James often worked from home, so he felt your absence immensely since you were always out until noon. And if you were home and not going anywhere else but work just to avoid him, you were never in the same room as him.
He could call himself lucky to still be able to sleep in the same bed as you. You weren't evil, you wouldn't let him sleep on one of your small leather couches alone, those were great for cuddling and taking a nap but not for a seven hour long rest. Besides, you knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if not beside you.
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Everything went on for about a week. Until everything came crashing down on him.
Bucky couldn't sleep. He just couldn't stop thinking how you were slowly but surely falling out of love with him since the day that he decided to use your trust. And he couldn't help but start crying at this heartbreaking thought. First it were just tears that didn't seem to stop flowing but after a few minutes he couldn't stop letting out those heartwrenching sobs coming out of him. Of course you noticed it and it didn't bring you joy or whatsoever. It made you feel like crying too.
"Bucky? Bucky, please." You sat up immediately.
You shoved all those hurt feelings to the side for a moment and moved towards his side. He turned around slowly and looked at you. You couldn't describe how broken the man in front of you looked.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/n. Please forgive me. I- I need you. I can't breath-" He broke down again.
You brought him to your chest, letting him hug your waist while crying into your shirt. You shushed him, held him against you and gently stroked his hair. Until he slowly stopped sobbing and crying, though he didn't intend to let go of you anytime soon.
"James, I know you're sorry."
He looked up at you. That's the first words you spoke to him in days and you call him James? Tears were gathering in his eyes once again.
"Oh, my love." You touched his cheek and took a good look at him. Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. That sounded much better.
"Bucky." He snaps back into reality, opening his eyes and seeing your gorgeous face, that he missed so much looking at.
"Kiss me, you moron." And he immediately did, more than eager to rest his lips on yours after such a long time.
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A/n: lol, just felt like breaking my heart again
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kentopedia · 1 year ago
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carefully, i was going to live
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FEATURING. past nanami kento x f!reader, gojo satoru x reader — wc: 2.9k
SUMMARY: you and gojo realize you share the same kind of pain.
CONTENTS: shibuya arc / jjk s2 spoilers, death, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts, references to disordered eating, implied satosugu, platonic gojo x reader, anger, angst, gojo isn’t sealed
note: reader & gojo’s relationship for the future is up to your interpretation. title is from a mitski song <3
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The world was bleak outside your window.
With November came the death of all things beautiful. The trees grew barren, flowers wilted into dreary puddles, the sky turned a muddy shade of grey, and your house transformed into a tomb.
It was almost evening now. The streets were busy with people commuting home from work, children skipping along sidewalks after a tedious day at school. Each expression became the epitome of human nature, and through all their ups and downs, there they stood, alive.
You blinked at the scene, just enough to wet your eyes, trying to ignore the spiteful hatred that bubbled up in you against cheerful strangers.
When the women had a smile on their faces, your mind easily morphed them into miserable frowns, weaved a story of how their partners treated them terribly. Children’s loud giggles turned into wretched cries, sobs from spoiled complaints of not getting their way. Men’s casual conversations on their cell phones became a long-winded rant of how their job was slowly destroying them.
There wasn’t anything left for you in the world but misery. It should only be fair that other people received the same.
Perhaps that was an evil thought, but you didn’t care. The bed was cold, and it had started to smell of something awful from the sheets that housed your own grime and sweat. You shivered, bundling yourself up in the blankets more.
An ache increased in your stomach before it grumbled, breaking the silence. Though, it suppressed its own pleas, knowing better than to suspect sustenance after so many evenings of emptiness. Over and over, you ignored your hunger, a part of you hoping that your body would begin to devour itself from the inside out.
Perhaps, then, you’d finally achieve the peace that you’d been longing for.
From the world inside your mind, Kento scolded you, begged you to pull yourself out of the darkness that you’d crawled into. He’d be unhappy, that much was certain. One look at your unkempt hair would put a crease between his eyebrows. He’d recoil at the piled trash that you’d been too exhausted to take out.
Still, you knew better than to believe he’d be anything but kind about it. Stern, maybe, but uncompromising words would never leave his lips without soft eyes and a sad smile.
You swallowed down the nausea that erupted from within you, and buried yourself deeper into the pillow, wishing the couple in the distance would cease their affectionate embrace.
A tear collected on your lash line.
For a moment, you let yourself fall into the painful peace of delusion. A phantom touch rested on your skin, comforting fingertips dancing along your hip. Kento Nanami’s love pressed into every subtle graze. Please. Let me help you.
His voice was raspy, unfamiliar, and you wondered if you were starting to forget the sound of it, the exact inflection of his words, even though you listened to his painfully short inbox message every day, replayed the voicemails he left you more often than music.
A dry sob forced its way up, though no sound released as you squeezed Kento’s pillow tighter, digging your nose into the cotton. You were desperate for his lingering scent, but it had been two weeks since he’d been killed, and there was nothing left of him.
Still, you sprayed his old cologne on every surface, left everything as he had, and pretended that he was still around.
Grief hugged you tight, trying to embody the embrace that Kento had once given you. You didn’t hear the knock at your front door, muffled from two rooms away and the constant swirl of your heartbroken musings.
No one had visited you in two weeks. Itadori had tried, but you’d screamed far too cruelly at him, even though he was just a kid, and none of this was his fault. The list of guests had been shortened since then.
You didn’t blame them.
Someone said your name, though it was distant, and it was easy to chalk it up to your imagination. Though, the plea became a whisper through a grisly storm, then a scream over the fierce winds in an attempt to reach you.
You opened your eyes, shifting to face the noise. 
Satoru Gojo stood at the edge of your bed, his large frame towering over you with every ounce of power he’d been born with, his slack jaw unable to hide his horror at the mess you’d made of yourself. Blindfolded eyes flicked across the room, then, his lips curled into a grimace.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” he said. Another sound but your own breath was so unnatural in the stale room. It took you far too long to understand him.  
You blinked back once, before rolling over to return your attention to the window once more, the scene beyond it still playing like a television series. Kento had always hated that your bedroom had a view of the city, some illusion of privacy gone now that he could see the world outside. Though, it was the only thing you could be grateful for now, as that square panel of glass became your salvation.  
“Sorry.” Your voice was hoarse, raspy. You weren’t sure when you’d used it last. “Phone’s dead.” It had been for days. The slender device rested useless on your nightstand, and you wondered how many people had died since Kento; jujutsu sorcerers didn’t stop fighting just because you had.
Gojo shuffled around the room. You peered over your shoulder to see him sliding the charger into your phone, the screen lighting up later with a bright logo and a ding.
“Everyone’s been calling.” His back was to you, muscles taut with exhaustion and strain. “There aren’t enough sorcerers. We’ve lost so many people.”
You tensed and considered blocking your ears, humming a song like a petulant child. No part of you wanted to hear about Jujutsu. Satoru Gojo could manage on his own, and you didn’t give a damn about saving the world anymore.
“I can’t help you,” you said, realizing just how true that was. There wasn’t an ounce of energy within your body.
Though you had let yourself rot, you had grand plans of finding a curse you could never defeat. You would never be strong enough in your current state, and that was alright. You just wanted to go out with some semblance of a purpose, as Kento had. Maybe that way, it wouldn’t feel so much like a suicide.
“I know,” Gojo sighed, and you waited a minute before he spoke again. “That’s not why I came.”
You breathed; the process was no longer subconscious. “Then why are you here?”
Gojo came around the bed to stand in front of you once more, so close that he blocked your view of the window. His icy irises had been revealed, somehow warning you just how serious he was about this intervention.
The laugh you couldn’t muster up came out in a shaky exhale. You weren’t scared of Gojo, and you certainly weren’t impressed by him enough to listen to whatever wisdom he wanted to bestow upon you.
“I just want to help my old friend.” A twinge of pity in his voice irritated you, even though it was warranted. The scene before him couldn’t evoke any sort of emotion except for pathetic despair. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“No.” Your muscles were weak as you maneuvered your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I just don’t care. Not even Satoru Gojo can fix everything. I thought you’ve learned that by now.” It was cruel, you knew that, but you spat the words without regret, rolling onto your back.
The stiffness in your hips alleviated, and finally, he couldn’t pin you with his gaze. You could only imagine the way he’d flinched at your comment, wondering when the shy, sweet girl from his youth had become such a bitter woman.  
Your eyes glued to the ceiling, and you imagined Kento there beside you, staring at you with a wistful smile while you merely blinked up at the white walls.
Gojo said your name again. Then he was tugging on your arm, and the clench around your heart unfurled, bringing you away from the desperate fantasy.
“Look at me,” Gojo said, and his words were harsher, exasperated, and you realized he’d been talking this entire time, minutes of one-sided conversation flowing in one ear and out the other.
“No, Satoru,” you growled, trying to resist, even though you didn’t have the strength. He pulled you to a seated position easily, forcing you to look at him once more, and never let go of your wrist. “Get out of my house.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“Get out.”
“No.” Satoru stared at you, his eyes cold and unflinching, and for a moment, you realized just how fearsome he could be, why so many curses looked him in the eye and remembered that they didn’t stand a chance. Then, he blinked, and that image was gone, left with the picture of a broken man who had lost too many friends, and was trying not to lose you too. “You won’t talk to anyone; you won’t see anyone. You’re destroying yourself like this. I won’t let it go on any longer.”
The sympathy and disappointment in his voice disgusted you, and you recoiled with a renewed strength, slapping his hand away. “I don’t care if you want to be a hero now. You couldn’t help Kento, and you can’t help me. What good is being the strongest if you can’t even save the people that you care about?”
Gojo tensed, his jaw clenching like you’d slapped him across the face. That, at least, gave you some sort of satisfaction, even if it only lasted for a moment. A twinge of regret started, burning brighter and brighter until the weight of your comment came down on you.
There was a point to being angry at the world, to projecting your suffering onto strangers. They would never bear witness to every ounce of your misery. But Gojo had known you since you were a child, had cared about Kento too, and you were treating him no better than the curses that had killed the man you loved.
“Fine,” Gojo said more tersely. “I can’t help you. You have to want to help yourself, too.” He raked a hand across his face, revealing dark, purple circles, and sallow skin. The two of you were an ugly picture—the perfect personification of every struggle a jujutsu sorcerer could experience. “I just thought you’d want to know you still have a friend. Nanami and Haibara may be gone, and…” He looked away, mouth pulling down further. “Suguru, but I’m still here, you know?”
You swallowed, even though your lips were too parched to produce any saliva. They were cottony and stuck together as you spoke. “Don’t come back here, Gojo.” Though you swayed, lightheaded, you didn’t lay back down, only curled your knees into your chest, feeling small. “I don’t want to be a sorcerer anymore. I don’t want to remember any of it.”
Gojo hesitated, disappointed that his previous comment hadn’t hit as hard as he’d intended.
“What will you do, then?” he asked, his hands helplessly dangling by his side before he moved to sit beside you.
“Nothing.” The word felt like a punishment to say, even when that’s all you’d been doing, for days. Your life meant nothing anymore, so there was no point in trying. “I’ll forget I ever loved Kento Nanami and then I’ll disappear.”
Gojo’s face turned, his eyes narrowing, lips curling down. “No, you won’t.”
You almost came back with a childish retort—but it no longer seemed worth it. You turned back towards the window, wondering if it would rain soon. The sky looked like it might.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re the only person still alive who knew Nanami exactly as he was. There are people out there who cared enough about the both of you to not let you throw that all away.”
Guilt gnawed at you. Kento may not have ever respected Gojo for his decisions as a sorcerer, but deep down, he’d always known that he was a good man who tried to do right by everyone.
“What am I supposed to do, then?” you said, quietly at first, swallowing back the heavy emotions that weighed on you. Satoru watched you, never interrupting, though your pause was long and burdened. “I just want it to stop. It hurts so much, Satoru.”
“I know.”
“Everyone moved on like Shibuya never happened.” You twirled the ring around your finger as the heavy tears returned, ones that you’d thought had long been expelled. It seemed impossible that someone should be able to cry without end, yet, your grief was unrelenting, and your cheeks grew wet once more. “Everyone kept going, and I can’t do that. I can’t pretend like I didn’t lose my entire future. I’m never going to get married, Satoru. I’ll never be able to—”
You stopped, choked by your own emotions as a lump rose in your throat, sour like bile. It was the first time you’d said the words out loud. They tasted worse than they felt in your mind. You’d never be able to call Kento Nanami your husband.
Gojo’s eyes softened, and though he reached for you, you flinched away, swallowing over and over to bury your tears. Heaving breaths came, unsteady.
“Nanami wouldn’t want this for you.” It was cruel, too close to mockery to make you feel anything but anger.
You already knew that you were disappointing the man who loved you with every fiber of his being. The sight of you so weakened would wreck Kento, but you couldn’t get yourself to move out of the house. Not even when your skin yearned for a ray of sunlight, or your body screamed for something other than the stale convenience store snacks.
“Don’t say that. Kento’s not here anymore.” His name came out choked on your lips, the first time you’d said it since screaming it in misery. The word didn’t feel so much like love anymore. It was sorrow, wrapped into two tiny syllables. “What he’d want doesn’t matter.”
Satoru lowered his voice, treating you as fragile as you’d become, uncertain how to speak to someone who would never want to listen. “It does matter. He loved you so much.”
You covered your ears, squeezed your eyes shut. “Satoru, please. Stop it.”
“He’d want you to be happy—”
“I don’t care.” You spoke over his ramblings and pushed him away until you were certain he’d fall off the bed. Though, it did nothing to move him, strong and steadfast Satoru Gojo who would never be toppled. “You just don’t understand. I replay it over and over in my head, wondering why I wasn’t there, why you weren’t there.” You dropped your head in your hands, breathing into your palms like a paper bag. “It’s not fair.”
“Nothing’s fair.” Satoru said, the age-old cliché, a hand hesitant on your wrist. He was quiet when he said your name again. “I know how you feel.”
“No you don’t.” You slapped him away, even when he held strong, even when he let you see the anguish he usually hid away, let it erase the warmth from his expression.
You remembered dark long hair, kind brown eyes, a young man who had once held such a promising future. Two best friends that perhaps had been more, never sharing the secrets of their ill-fated bond.
“No, you don’t.”
Gojo was scooting closer, pulling you into his arms, the embrace tight, protective.
He was serious and sullen in a way that you hadn’t seen since Geto died. Gojo was a master at veiling his emotions in laughter, but it seemed now that your own emptiness was reflected back at you, the sheer desire to stop existing all at once.
“I know it better than anyone.” Nothing more than a whisper. The tears were too heavy and hot; there was nothing you could do to stop them. “You’re not alone.”
You were quiet for a moment, then another, before everything that you’d been feeling for the past two weeks crashed upon you like a wave, drowning you, and you were unable to breathe, clinging to Gojo like he was the only thing holding you above water.
You’d known Kento for ten years. You’d been strangers, friends, lovers parted by death before either of you had turned thirty, and though you weren’t the only person who had lost someone in Shibuya, you felt like the only one who was too weak to recover from it.
“Satoru.” Your voice broke. “I don’t know how to live without him.”
Gojo smiled. “You find a way.” Said so confidently, a man who’d been through it all before, and your heart shattered with sobs that came out uncontrollably, soaking Satoru’s shoulder.
Desperately, you clawed at his back, wishing you could wear his skin as a protective shield, could tear his heart out of his chest and trade it for your own, if only to gain an ounce of his strength. He held you tight in his arms, but nothing about him was the same, right down to the very blue eyes that had lost all their arrogance. Both had dimmed, and even the infinity within them seemed to end.
He didn’t smell like Kento, didn’t feel like Kento—but no one else had comforted you since he’d died, so you let him. Satoru kissed your forehead with an affection you’d already forgotten, reminding you to move on.
You never would.
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flowerandblood · 8 months ago
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The Taste of Shame NSFW Alphabet
[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]
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NSWF Alphabet for Aemond from my mini series The Taste of Shame made for my one year celebration. I show his perspective of what it looked like with his clients and his girl. Dirty things below.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
With his little girl, whether she feels safe, whether she's comfortable, whether she's okay and needs anything is essential. Immediately after they finish he asks her if everything is alright, brings her water and some wet wipes, cleaning her gently between her thighs, praising her and how wonderful he felt with her, placing soft, tender kisses on her naked, sweaty body. 100% commitment.
He did the bare minimum with his clients. He always made sure they had water to drink standing next to them on the cupboard and wipes, but did not help them or participate in anything after the sexual act itself, approaching it professionally and without emotion.
B = Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
In his sweet girl's case, her hair, her eyes and her breasts. He loves to clench his hand in her hair when he fucks her from behind, and he's also jealous when, during meeting him for dates, she doesn't wear a bra under her dress or shirt, unhappy that other men can look at her too. He clearly shows her his displeasure afterwards in bed, after which she always finds it hard to sit on her bottom the next day.
In his female clients case, nothing. He didn't focus on whether he liked something about them or not, it was just his job.
C = Cum (anything that has to do with it)
Always inside her.
With his female clients, he always used condoms.
D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
His work was his one big dirty secret, plz.
E = Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
He is very experienced and knows exactly what to do to prepare a woman well for what will happen next, with his little girl, however, he is more careful, knowing that she is more delicate than the women who have been his clients, not wanting to hurt her or overdo it. Her comfort always comes first. He just wants to make love to her, any way she allows him to do so satisfies him.
F = Favorite position
The missionary position, in which he holds her wrists above her head with one hand and keeps his balance using the other, thrusting into her at such an angle that she cries out and begs him to fill her, to kiss her, to let him touch her.
His power over her and how sweet she is turns him on so much that even though he teases her for a long time, he finally gives her what she needs, kissing her like a starved man, quickening his pace, allowing her to embrace him as he nears his peak.
Apart from that, any other in which he can watch himself open her wide on his fat cock. Something about the sight makes him lose his temper and fuck her like crazy.
With his female clients each where he didn't have to look at their face.
G = Goofy (how serious are they)
With her, they often laugh when they get something wrong or she asks him a silly question, inexperienced, he often then kisses her cheeks blushing with shame, explaining everything to her patiently and with care.
Completely serious with his female clients, straight to the point.
H = Hair (grooming habits)
Trimmed and cleaned. His hygiene is very important to him.
I = Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
Very affectionate and caring towards his sweet girl. Whenever he wants to do something new he takes his time to explain to her exactly what it would involve and asks her how she would feel about it, if she would like to try it.
Every time he sees discomfort on her face when they start, uncertainty or fear he stops, kissing her nose, saying: let's make love then, taking her more gently and slowly than usual, reassuring her that he loves her and she is never a disappointment to him, his sweet little baby.
When a new position or toy pleases her, he praises her, muttering in her ear that she is brave and has done wonderfully well for him.
No intimacy with his female clients. He didn't ask their names and they would call him 'sir' themselves. He wanted no intimacy with them, although many of them aspired to it and filled his email inbox with messages after their sessions.
J = Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
He was doing this before he started his job and thinking about his girl when he still thought their relationship had no chance. When they started being together he stopped, 100% fulfilled with her.
K = Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
Everything to do with domination. Hand tying, punishments, full control. He trusts his little girl, so sometimes when she desires it he lets her ride him, still controling the situation though, just looking at her adoringly, coming inside her involuntarily.
L = Location (where they like to get it on)
With his little girl wherever he is sure that her body cannot be seen by anyone but him and when he is sure she is comfortable.
With his female clients only in a separate flat that he has rented for his work.
M = Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
Her behaviour, the way she talks to him. Sometimes he feels like crying in front of her, hearing how well she understands him, that she does not judge him, that she loves and supports him. He then involuntarily seeks her closeness, which often, though not always, ends in an intimate closeness.
Sometimes, simply while looking at her from afar, he gets an idea and is turned on by the very thought of seeing her in some position or some situation. He is then like a predator waiting for an opportunity.
In the case of his female clients, his motivation was easy money. He tried not to think about what he was doing during the act itself and drift off with his thoughts, imagining some women he has seen in pornographic films.
N = No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
With his little girl there is hardly a thing he would not agree to, apart from some heavy domination on her part, tying his hands etc.
In the case of his female clients, he never allowed them to kiss him or touch him with their hands. He could put his cock down their throats, but he wasn't going to touch them with his tongue between their thighs without knowing who touched them there before him.
O = Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
He is the king of spending time between his little girl's thighs. If he could, he would fall asleep cuddled up to her warm womanhood. He loves her taste and how she responds to his caresses.
He lets her reciprocate at her request, never demanding it himself, and takes his time, watching the sight of his cock disappearing deep down her throat, trying not to come too soon, whispering how wonderful she looks with her mouth full of him.
He could shove his cock into his clients' mouths if they so agreed in the rules beforehand, but they couldn't hope for reciprocation.
P = Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
With his little girl he sometimes comes faster than he wishes. It just feels too good.
With his female clients he could last a very long time, not of his own volition. It was just hard for him to get really aroused and often he had to be just more violent towards them to come.
Q = Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
Depending on the situation, sometimes he does it very slowly when she craves a slightly more tender, calm rapprochement, where they stroke, kiss and whisper to each other, and sometimes they fuck like animals, even more so if they haven't seen each other for a long time, which for them is 2-3 days.
With his female clients he was always quick. He saw no point in doing it slowly.
R = Risk (do they like to try new things)
He enjoys taking risks with her, but not at the expense of her comfort. Her safety and well-being is always his priority.
With his female clients, he had done every single thing they wanted, even the most fucked-up, as long as it did't require them to touch him or kiss him.
S = Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
After resting for a while, all it takes is for her soft buttocks to rub against him and he's ready for action again, if she feels like it. If not, he just snuggles into her and falls asleep.
With his female clients he only did this only once per meeting, no more. He always kept an eye on the time and was not interested in repeats beyond his schedule.
T = Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
He uses this kind of toys on her that increase her sensation and pleasure. He wants her to cry out in front of him with delight.
With his female clients, every one they wanted. What turned him on the most was causing them pain, as if he was taking it out on them that they dared to come to him and ask him to do all these fucked-up things to them.
U = Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
He adores denying her and prolonging her orgasms, but trying not to overdo it, loving watching his sweet girl beg him for fulfillment in tears. He assures her what a good girl she is and that she just needs to endure it a little longer, that he will reward her soon.
If his client annoyed him, he would be more brutal towards them than usual, much to their delight.
V = Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
He allows himself to be loud around her, panting and sometimes groaning low in pleasure, unable to express otherwise how good he feels deep inside her, usually losing control of himself just before orgasm.
Quiet panting and grunting was the most his clients could count on.
W = Wild card (random canon of any sort)
He fingered his girl in the kitchen, knowing that her parents and brother were nearby in the living room.
As for his clients, one once enraged him so much by touching him against his will that he almost strangled her and she fainted. He was terrified and wanted to call an ambulance, but she woke up after couple of seconds saying that it was amazing and that she wanted to continue.
He asked her to leave, did not take money from her and did not allow her to come to him again even though she begged him to let her.
X = X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
Something doing miracles.
Y = Yearning (sexdrive level)
He is totally into her. He loves spending time with her outside of bed, taking her for a walks and dates, often talking to her for long hours, relying heavily on her and respecting her opinion. When he looks at her, the desire to make love is a natural result of his intense inner need for her closeness.
It didn't matter with his clients. He worked like clockwork.
Z = Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
He only falls asleep when he knows she is safe. Sometimes he can't sleep thinking about whether he overdid it during their intimacy or hurt her by accident.
He fight with himself then and eventually wake her up in the middle of the night, asking her, devastated, if everything was okay, and only calms down when she hugs him, calling him silly, snuggling into his chest with soft purr.
He never fell asleep next to his clients, but they sometimes fell asleep after orgasm, infuriating him because he had to reprimand them and ask them to leave.
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cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago
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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? He's sad that Lewis crashed during the race and he felt that it was his fault. She assured him that it was not and comforted him. Maybe some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Tag me later!! Thanks! :))
Mercedes Madness - Peter Bonnington x Wife! Reader
Plot: Lewis doesn't have a great race, going from Pole Position to a DNF at his home race. A lot played part in the cause of the crash but your Peter Bonnington cant help but feel like it's his fault. But his wife will always be there for post-race comfort!
Credit to husbono for the GIF
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It was a great weekend for Mercedes at Silverstone, they had Lewis in pole position and George next to him in P2 meaning they had the whole front line to themselves and would be able to defend from the Red Bull and McLaren that sat behind them in P3 and P4.
This was a race-weekend you were invited to every time as it was a big home race not just for the team having Lewis and George driving for them, but for you and Peter where it was also where you both grew up.
Having Lewis and George locking out the front row on the Saturday ahead of Sunday felt like a good omen for you.
However that is not how the race went down, both car's seemed to have cooling issues making it shaky and just generally harder to drive. The pit stops on top of that seemed to be slower than they had all season and communication on the pit wall at Mercedes had been awful, causing George to slip down into P6 and eventually caused Lewis and Carlos to get into a accident where Lewis wasn't able to turn his car wide enough to leave room for Carlos.
Commentator: Oh and look at that, contact between Sainz and Hamilton and he's off. The man who was set up to win it all is OUT! There's no way he can recover that car!" Commentator: Oh! Here's Bono on the radio. Bono Radio: Sorry Lewis, race over. Lewis Radio: Yeah sorry I couldn't bring it home. Bono Radio: We'll talk in debrief tonight, wasn't a good day!
Carlos was able to continue his drive, only needing to pit for a new front wing but Lewis had to retire the car.
Toto was unhappy of course, what could have turned out to be the best weekend for Mercedes since 2021 turned into a complete shit-show with how disconnected the team were.
After the race, and all the interviews and the debrief, you and Peter drove home in complete silence. You could tell he just needed some time to think, he liked doing that. Sometimes you would worry he'd send himself into a pit of bad thoughts but he always came back with a nod and a soft smile to let you know he was okay.
As you pulled into the drive way he walked straight to the bedroom, you quickly followed after him seeing him getting into some lounge wear before crawling into bed wrapping the covers around him, laying while looking up at the plain white ceiling.
"Baby, you know today wasn't just on you right? The whole team was a mess!" you offer, watching over his expression and the way he's breathing in and out slowly.
"I could have done things different..." he sighs looking over at you.
"Mmm, but so could the engineers... and Toto, and even Lewis. But we'll make a comeback in Spa, I know you feel as though your to blame and yes maybe you could have called out better strats but the race is done... George still got the team points. But if you keep your mind open on this race, it'll be the same in Spa!" you advise pulling him into a hug which he accepts slinking a soft hand around your waist.
"I don't know what i did to deserve you!" he sighs rolling over onto his side and kissing you softly.
"Let's get some sleep, tomorrow will be a better day" you say still holding onto him.
The next morning you quietly got out of your bed, making your side as quietly as possible so you didn't wake up your sleeping and clearly exhausted husband.
You went and got yourself ready in the family bathroom rather than the ensuite in your room, not wanting to wake Peter up. After getting ready for the day you ventured out for the morning errands you'd told yourself you'd do.
You wanted to surprise Peter with an entire relax and restoration day. You hit up your guy's local spa/gym asking for a few treatments you know Peter liked to get for later on in the day. You then went to the cinema and purchased two tickets to a film that Peter had been wanting to see but due to all the travelling he hadn't had the chance to.
You then went to his favorite bakery buying a large box of all of his best sweet treats he would enjoy after race weekends.
Finally you ended your trip at the shops buying a ingredients for a special dinner you'd cook him tonight and a few snacks that you guys would take into the cinema with you.
You come home, stepping into the door with all the shopping bags clutched in every way you could possibly hold them before chucking the car keys on the entryway table.
As you step into the kitchen your husband rushes up to you helping with the bags.
"Where have you been?" he asks looking over you, a small frown on his face.
"Just out!" you smile opening the fridge and checking the current food in there to see what was still in date.
"I woke up and you weren't here!" he admits with a groan and hugging you from behind.
"Mmmmm I've been planning for Peter Day!" you grin turning round.
"What is Peter Day?" he asks cocking his head to one side.
"Well, we'll start of with a run. Then we'll go to the Spa, and then the cinema and out for a light lunch. Then we'll come home and I've got the ingredients for your fav!" you smile, placing a kiss on his cheek before reaching into the tote bag that held some of the ingredients in and showing him before placing them in the fridge and cupboards.
"You did all that for me?" he asks.
"Well, it's been a tough weekend darling. You deserve some you time!" you smile, and he pulls you in for a hug putting his face in the crook of your neck. A relaxed sigh leaving him.
"Thank you really I love you so much. God what did i do to deserve you!" he smiles looking over you, kissing you one more time before helping you with the rest of the shopping.
"Okay, go get some running gear on! We'll go round the trail you like, even though it kills me!" you joke, knowing he preferred the uphill route because of the views rather than your nice job around the lake your house was next to.
"As much as I love your treats for today, promise me we can have a home day together tomorrow?" he asks looking over at you, and you nod because a home day was a rarity in the Bonnington household.
"Yeah, a home day sounds great love!"
Taglist:
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smplykiel · 1 year ago
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“You made me think I actually mattered.” fem! reader x albedo | part two.
warnings: angst, arguments, hurt/no comfort, crying, heartbreak, mentions of major character death, albedo is a big fat jerk (love him tho, just not here LMAO)
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Days, weeks, hell, even months have passed since the last time you spent a passionate moment with your lover, Albedo. The more you tried to comprehend, the more you convinced yourself that he was just too busy with his duties, the more you couldn't.
Was it really that difficult for him to spare you one moment of his time? Did you really stop being important to him? or has he entirely forgotten about you? Surely not, right?
Numerous days and nights were spent alone and unhappy. By the time your so-called lover got home, you'd be exhausted and soundly sleeping in your shared bedroom. When you wake up, you're greeted by his side of the bed, all empty and cold.
it was as if he didn't exist anymore— or perhaps you didn't exist to him anymore?
A soft sigh resonated through the cold room. You sat up immediately, silently cursing yourself as your head spun from the unexpected action. You get out of the shared bed after your spinning head has settled down, slightly wincing as your feet come into contact with the cold floor. You paid it no mind and walked mindlessly to the bathroom. Your mind had become tired after running millions of miles and was now completely empty, with no thoughts.
You looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't stupid; you know how much you've neglected yourself. exactly like he's neglecting you. Another exhausted sigh left your lips as you swiftly got ready, but for what? You had no idea.
You were completely clean and washed as you exited the bathroom. Hopefully presentable for the rest of the world. Maybe you should pay Albedo a visit. But just thinking of dragonspine's freezing chilly atmosphere sent shivers down your spine.
You mentally shook the thought and prepared to leave, not bothering to eat anything to fill your empty stomach. It's all right, you're used to it.
You hurriedly put on your shoes, double-checked your belongings and keys, and officially exited as you twisted the knob of your shared home's door shut.
You couldn't help but be excited for some reason. What are you excited about? Maybe for Albedo? You just hoped by the time you made it to his lab, he would give you a single ounce of attention— affection.
You wasted no time in heading towards the chilly mountain. The cold breeze caused goosebumps to creep all over your porcelain skin. Every breath you breathed became visible before fading into thin air.
You arrived at your lover's lab after an exhausting journey. You hurried up your feet, choosing to run despite the slippery floor and the cold air that made it difficult to breathe.
And finally, you made it to your lover. Though your big warm smile was quickly wiped off your face as he didn't even bother to acknowledge you, eyes focused on whatever he was doing. It's okay, maybe he just didn't notice.
"H...hey! albedo, my love!" You said in between your gasps of air. A pang in your chest; you don't know whether it was because your lover ignored you or the icy cold air that crept into your lungs.
A sliver of hope ran through your shivering body as you saw him whip his head towards you. "Oh, y/n, what are you doing here?" he said with a raised brow. Yet not long after, his head was turned back to whatever he was doing. You frown at this. Sure, he had spared you a single glance, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
"Oh... well, I just wanted to see you... That's it..." you responded, voice slowly becoming smaller with each word you let out. Your orbs were now staring holes into the snowy ground.
You nervously shifted your eyes from the ground towards your lover as you were met with silence. Did he not hear you? Maybe you shouldn't have visited after all. Maybe you should've known that it would end up like this once again.
"Um, I wanted to see you-" You tried explaining yourself again, only to get cut off by his slightly irritated voice. "I heard you. No need to repeat yourself over and over again." You could feel yourself taken aback at his sudden change of tone. The small crunch of snow underneath you was heard as you unconsciously stepped back.
"Sorry," you whispered. Why were you apologizing? You did nothing wrong; you never did. So why did you feel like this? A deafening silence engulfed the icy atmosphere as Albedo continued to focus on his work.
You wanted to see him, right? Was that it? Were you expecting more? Did you want to do more? Of course you did.
You lightly took a deep breath before you started walking towards him. Your ears, hands, and cheeks were bright red because of the chilly breeze, as you wore only one layer of clothing. How did you even manage to get up here without freezing to death?
"What... are you doing?" Hopefully you weren't disturbing him as you took a peek at whatever he was doing right now. Why was it that it was much more important than you? to the point that all of his attention was all over it?
"Work." His response was blunt but vague. It made you frown at yourself. You took a small step closer, a mere inch away from each other, as you tried to understand what his 'work' is.
"Look, you're disturbing my experiment right now. It's much better if you go back down the mountain and return home, he said, eyes still on his... 'work'. A feeling of hurt crept up into your stomach. Your brows now knitted together as you shifted your gaze towards your lover.
After all the energy you spent climbing up the cold, snowy mountain, he has the audacity to say this? Did he ever care about you? Hell, you were trembling because of the cold breeze, yet this is what fills his mind? his experiment?
"Oh." You didn't know how you should feel or what you were feeling at all. Her soft orbs were now covered with a faint glaze as she furrowed her brows in frustration. "Do you even care?" Your own words shocked you as you pressed your freezing fingertips against your lips. You fucked up.
Tears were starting to prick the corners of your eyes as you looked at Albedo nervously. You didn't mean to say that out loud. You just felt frustrated and unloved. Albedo turned his face towards you, seeming unfazed as he raised his brow.
"What?" he asked as he shifted his attention to you. Your body was freezing and trembling, whether it be because of the cold wind or nervousness; you couldn't care less. Your mind was running millions of miles.
But you knew very well that this had to be said. You were getting tired of him constantly neglecting you and constantly excusing himself by saying that he was just too busy with work. You didn't even know how you managed to keep up with him every night, greeting him at the door only to be met with silence as he walks past you, or when he would return late at night, or when he didn't return home at all.
You could feel yourself take a deep breath before you tried to calm your thoughts. "Albedo, can we... talk?" You hoped that he took it as a sign that something was wrong. that everything was wrong.
"If it's another one of your stupid rants about me always not having time for you, then no, we can't." he sighed in annoyance before turning back to his work.
You were getting tired of this. You couldn't hold on to what you'd been feeling anymore. Everything you've been bottling up is slowly starting to surface again.
"Do you even care about me anymore? These past few months felt like a living hell as you continued to neglect me every. single. day! I know. I know that you're busy. Busy with work. With everything! But can't you just at least spare me a single moment of your time? Is it that hard? Or am I just a big waste of your time?!"
Your sudden outburst shocked Albedo, who was not expecting you to suddenly raise your voice. "Y/N, calm down. Geez. I already told you many, many times that I have to finish my work. It's my duty! Do I have to repeat it every single time to you?" he scoffed as he shook his head.
"I know that! I know that very well! That you're busy with work because you're the chief alchemist of the Favonius! But I'm getting tired! Are we even lovers at this point?! Even when you're next to me, it feels like you're miles away." The argument was quickly getting heated, despite the freezing wind.
Our loud voices echoed throughout the snowy mountains, hopefully not catching the attention of wandering monsters. but that is the least of your problems right now.
Your cheeks burned red from anger as your face was contorted into a furious expression. You just wanted everything to turn back to normal, to what it used to be. when you were still spending time smothering each other with love.
"You know what, Y/n? If you're going to be this clingy and annoying, then it's better if we just end it. It was getting tiring anyway." The tears that you were trying so hard to fight back quickly streamed down your face as Albedo spat hurtful words at your face.
"You made me think I actually mattered." All of a sudden, the breeze felt as cold as ever. And the air felt heavy and tense. It made it hard to breathe as your chest heaved up and down rapidly.
That's it? It's all over? Just like that?
"Well, you don't. Not anymore. So goodbye. Please leave my lab and never return." It was as if your heart was slowly shattering at every word he spoke out. Bitter tears are flowing down your now tear-stained cheek continuously.
You let out a shaky breath before taking small steps back, hoping that we would take back his words. That he would say he was joking and that he was sorry. But he didn't.
You called yourself pathetic. You were the one who was being mistreated, and now that you're free, you're supposed to be happy. Yet you weren't. It just made you feel much more miserable. His words echoed through your head repeatedly. As if it was haunting you.
You grit your teeth before you turn away from your now-ex-lover. Your cold fingertips were wiping away your salty tears as you walked down the walk of shame. Your vision was slowly getting disoriented as tears continued to flow uncontrollably.
Suddenly, you could feel your feet step on nothing. You quickly shifted your focus onto your path before realizing you were on the broken bridge. You realized you'd fallen down because you weren't paying attention to where you were going.
You could feel yourself fall numerous feet down as tears stopped falling.
But it's okay, you didn't even matter anyway, right?
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A/N: angst is my girl dinner! <3 anw this is my first one-shot so pls bear with me, i'm still new to all of this. hopefully, you guys enjoy it!
©smplykiel 2023 on tumblr | do not repost, copy, translate, or modify any of my works on any platform.
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inlovewithfictionalmen7 · 1 year ago
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I'm Sorry Mommy
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this is my first attempt at writing smut so im sorry if its bad haha
Rafe Cameron x fem!reader 
summery: a day out golfing dosent end well when y/n over hears something the boys are talking about.
warnings: oral,sub!Rafe, Rafe crying, kinda mean reader, fem!reader, dom!reader.
word count: 1,807
————————————-<3————————————
y/n and rafe were at the country club golfing with topper and kelce. y/n isn't supper into golfing but she loves spending time with rafe so she's down for anything even if that meant standing in the hot sun while her boyfriend played his sport with his friends so be it.  
“Hey babe can you go get us some more drinks please?” Rafe asks her nicely while lining up for his swing. “Yeah of course.”she says, smiling at him and walking away. Before she can get to far though she hears topper and kelce laughing so she stops for a sec to hear what they say 
“Man rafe she's like your little bitch huh” kelce says slapping Rafes back then topper jumps in “oh bro i bet she's just worships you in bed and lets you use her” y/n narrows her eyes hoping rafe would change the topic because they both know whos in charge behind closed doors, but her hopes are proven useless as she hears “oh yeah man she's like the biggest slut in bed. I love it” leave her boyfriend's mouth. The boys let out some whoops. 
y/n finally goes up and gets their drinks, heading back to the boys, smiling as she hands topper and kelce's theirs, but when she turned her back to face rafe her smile dropped bringing his drink to her lips she takes a sip looking him straight in the eyes before spitting in his cup, smiling and handing it to him. The look on his face tell her, he knows that she heard him and that he was fucked.
The drive home was silent for the most part. Rafe looked over at y/n every once and awhile while she was looking out the window. He knew he was in trouble but he didnt know how he was gonna be punished and that scared him.
After Rafe pulled into his driveway and turned off the truck they sat there in silence for a couple minutes before he tried to speak “baby-” but he's cut off by y/n  “go upstairs to your room and strip.”  she turns to him, grabbing his face making him look at her. Oh god she does not look happy. Rafe thought to himself  “and dont you fucking dare touch yourself” she stated before shoving his face away and getting out of the truck. Rafe doesn't say anything as he gets out and follows her inside not wanting to make his punishment worse. 
As he heads to the stairs he notices y/n heading for the kitchen. “y/n? Where are you going?” he asks cautiously. She stops and looks at him over her shoulder “do as you're told and go up stairs rafe.” she says coldly walking away. Rafe gulps and walks up stairs. In his room he strips and sits on his bed looking at his hard cock, fighting the urge to touch it. Downstairs y/n takes her sweet time getting a cup of water and looking out the window some more just to mess with rafe some more. Taking the last sip of water she turns and heads upstairs 
Rafes head flies up when he hears his door close, he sees his beautiful girlfriend standing there with a very unhappy look on her face. “Now rafe do you wanna tell me why you're being punished?” she says slowly walking towards him. “I-i dont k-know” he stutters looking down at the ground knowing damn well what he did to deserve this, just not wanting to admit it. y/n grabs his chin forcing him to look at her, he whimpers slightly at the sudden movement. “Oh i think you do rafey” y/n says a smirk playing on her lips. Rafe shakes his head, tears coming to his eyes, and his cock twitching. “Something about me being uh, what'd you say the biggest slut in bed, and letting your friends say that about me?” she hums at the end looking at him. His eyes go wide knowing he has no way out of this.
“Im sorry” rafe whimpers before his hairs being pulled back. “I'm sorry what” she says getting so close to his face he could almost feel her lips on his. “I-im s-sorry m-mommy” he says as a blush rises on his cheeks. She smiles at him and pulls away. “What are you sorry for baby” she asks the man in front of her. “For saying stuff that wasn't true about us, a-and l-letting them talk ab-about you like that” rafe cries, “im so sorry mommy!” he says struggling to look and hold eye contact with the woman. 
y/n smiles at him and places a quick kiss on his lips. Pulling away and letting go of his face much more gently than before and instead gripping his rock hard cock, watching as he jumps at the sudden relief. “You've been a very bad boy Rafey” she says slowly stroking his cock making his hips jut up. “Please mommy, I'm sorry” he says before biting his lip. She starts stroking him faster, making him moan and cry. “Mommy can i cum please let me cum. I-ill do anything” he begs the woman as he reaches his climax. 
Right as y/n feels him twitch she pulls her hand away making he cry out in frustration. “Oh did you really think I'd let you off that easily?” She laughs at the poor boy “god you're pathetic” she adds, making him turn his face away from her. “Here's what's gonna happen baby.” she starts as she takes off her shirt and shorts, leaving her in her bra and underwear, while he looks at her with hopeful eyes. 
“I'm going to touch myself, you're going to watch me” she says, taking off her underwear so slowly just to tease the man. “And if you touch yourself i'll leave you like this, do you understand me baby boy”  she unclips her bra letting it slide down her arms exposing her breasts to the needy man. 
“Y-yes i understand” he says hypnotized by her breasts to notice he forgot an important word “yes. What” she says standing in front of him. “Yes mommy” he says looking up at her face with pleading eyes. “Good boy,” she says lightly tapping his cheek before getting on the bed, spreading her legs right in front of Rafe so he has a good view. Rafe lets out a loud whimper when he sees how wet she is. Not thinking he reaches out to touch her however his hand gets slapped away as she tsks at him. 
Bringing her hand to her core she collects some of her wetness before bringing her hand to his mouth. Rafe wasted no time in taking her fingers into his mouth, sucking the juices off them, while moaning. y/n pulls her fingers out of his warm mouth and brings it back to her core. She moans as she rubs her clit. Rafes cock twitches and he watches his girlfriend finger herself. 
When she comes she throws her head back and lets out a loud moan of his name. Causing him to whimper again. “Please mommy it hurts” he begs her as she catches her breath. y/n looks at the pathetic man in front of her. “Hmmm i'm not sure you've earned it yet rafey” she looks at him waiting to see what he says “please let me taste you again mommy please” he begs her just wanting to please her. “Come here sweet boy” she spread her legs again. Putting her leg on his shoulder when he's close enough to her “go ahead please mommy” she encourages after seeing his hesitation. 
He wasted no time in leaning down and licking up her slit gathering all her juices,hearing the beautiful girl moan when he reached her clit. Sucking it into his mouth just the way he knows she likes it. y/n runs her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to her and she grinds her hips into his face. Rafe groans looking up at her face. He loves pleasing y/n, he'd do anything to make up for what he did today. He could tell she was close to coming so he shoved two fingers into her wet core to push her over the edge. Hearing her loud moans he caused. He keeps licking and sucking at her until he feels his hair being pulled back. 
Rafes a panting mess when he comes up, looking at her like she's the most beautiful girl in the world, because in his eyes she was. y/n looks down at her boyfriend before chuckling which confuses rafe “you really are impatient huh rafe” when all she gets in return is a more confused look she continues “you like eating my pussy so much you came from humping your bed and making a huge mess” at that he looks down and sees the mess he made before turning bright red and burying  his face in y/n´s stomach “i'm sorry mommy i-i didn't mean too i swear” he cries scared shes gonna be even more mad and punish him more. Though y/n can tell that he's actually scared and upset so she's not going to keep going…. Tonight anyway. 
She shushes  Rafe while rubbing his head “it's okay, you're okay sweetheart.” when she tries to get up he holds onto her tighter “I'm not going anywhere my love, i'm just getting stuff to clean you up okay?” She asks him to which he nods and reluctantly lets go of her. 
y/n goes to the bathroom getting a washcloth wet after using the bathroom. When she leaves the bathroom she sees rafe hugging his pillow like how he was just holding her and smiles. “Okay love can you roll over for me” she asks rubbing his back, once he does she says “i'm just gonna wipe you down okay? That's it, we're all done for tonight” he nods at her with a small smile on his lips. 
Once he's all clean y/n changes the blankets on the bed and gets a pair of boxers for Rafe to put on, and herself one of his shirts and her underwear. 
Crawling into bed with rafe he grabs onto her and puts his head on her chest “thank you mommy” y/n rubs the back of his neck “not mommy right now my love. Were all done for right now” she kisses his head. y/n does bother telling him they'll continue this later. 
“I love you y/n” Rafe mumbles quietly 
“I love you too Rafey” she says, kissing his head again before they both drift off to sleep. 
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safetycar-restart · 1 year ago
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KINKTOBER DAY 19: OBJECT INSERTION [LANDO NORRIS X READER]
NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Lando and dom!reader, the fic also writes Lando as a camboy. If you are under 18 or uninterested, scroll past.
This work forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!
(This takes place in the camboy!au where Lando is a camboy and reader is his real life partner and dom who helps him manage his account and sometimes appear in his lives and videos)
Lando always whines and huffs when you insist that he prep himself properly before he goes live.
Lando is known for his size queen status. He's always fucking himself on the most insane dildos and will use anything and everything. His fans have come to expect it now, and his videos featuring this get millions of views. So obviously he continues to do it.
However, as his partner and his dom, you never ever let him do those streams without him being properly prepped and that he tries whatever he's going to use before he goes live.
And naturally, because Lando is bratty and needy, if you're going to make him do that then you must prep him. You have to.
You pretend to be annoyed, but you always do it, of course.
Which is how you end up with Lando laying on the bed, his knees bent up to his chest with some lube, a few smaller dildos, and the glass bottle Lando intends to fuck himself with on the bed.
You always have to make this a little fun, because he's your sub! You have to make sure he always has a good time.
Lando is in a great mood as you start to stretch him, giggling and asking you what lingerie you think he should wear later as you slowly insert one finger. He begs for more quickly, so you add two fingers and then move on to the dildo.
"Hurry up!!" he whines, trying to wriggle his hips.
You pinch his thigh, telling him to be patient. There's a reason you go about this slowly. He's about to fuck himself with a glass bottle for a good while, and you know he can hurt himself if he isnt properly prepped.
He, of course, does not seem to care about this because to him you are obviously choosing this moment to be mean and team him. Which , no, no you aren't.
"Just let me use the slightly bigger dildo quickly and then we'll get to the bottle," you tell him, slowly removing the first dildo. He pouts, but otherwise stays quiet.
He moans shamelessly when you push in the next dildo, relaxing against the bed like all his strings have been cut. It's his favourite dildo, and you know if you angle it right it will push against his prostate perfectly. You don't do that now though, because you can't make Lando cum now. You have to just stretch him so that he can livestream safely, he can't be coming before the cameras even turn on.
Of course he doesn't care about this right then, because his favourite dildo is in him and he knows you can make it hit his prostate and you aren't!! Very unhappy Lando.
He tries to move his hips to get the dildo where he wants it but you press your arm over his hips quickly to hold him down.
"You know you can't come now," you tell him, shaking your head when he pouts.
Eventually you remove that dildo and then it's time to test out the glass bottle. You put a healthy amount of lube on it, and then gently press it against lando's rim. He lets out a few stuttering breaths and you stroke his thigh to hopefully calm him down.
He relaxes and the bottle slowly enters him. The sigh he lets out is almost sinful.
"Feel so full," he mumbles, turning his head to hide his face in the pillow.
You put a little lube on his cock and stroke it slowly, just to give him another sensation to focus on while he gets used to the bottle. Eventually he starts to whine and wriggle, trying to get the bottle to move and you know it's time.
You don't do much, just move it slowly in and out a few times to make sure he can do it.
"Okay," you tell him, "I think you're good to go."
As you expected, Lando whines, "Can't you just fuck me?" he asks.
You laugh, reminding him that he has a scheduled live stream and that you just prepped him for it.
After two more grumbles, he gets up, taking the glass bottle with him and mumbling something about demanding cuddles and a hand job later as he walks to his filming room.
Little shit.
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loveless-in-nowheresville · 18 days ago
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-JJBA love letter headcanons-
Summary: What their love letters to you are like
Characters: Joseph Joestar, Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, Dio, Rohan Kishibe, and Yoshikage Kira
Warnings: Unhealthy relationship with Dio and Unhappy relationship with Kira.
Dating/married, different relationships for characters
-Joseph Joestar
His “stationery” is typically just pages ripped out of a well used journal, but that’s got its own charm to it too.
His letters are clearly not written in one sitting, just little thoughts and ideas written to you throughout the day, sometimes a bit vulgar in his honest affection towards you, sometimes sweet and creative. He isn’t the type to wax poetic…he doesn’t believe in that. He’s open, honest, and doesn’t dance around what he likes about you and what he wants for the two of you…the word that comes to mind is “blunt”. You can picture him so clearly with a little journal balanced on his thigh, tapping the back of a pencil against his chin in thought, plotting to woo you over with bold, showy words.
He’s a bit of a wild animal. You never know how much you can trust him and his little declarations of love but…he’s just so charming. You can’t turn him away when he’s so captivating. You’ll always make room for him in your heart, unfortunately, no matter what might happen, and you’ll treasure every letter and keep them stored away in a little box.
He’ll send a couple of short letters in one envelope every couple of months. He writes in a bold, confident cursive…he really does have an amazing mind, one of a kind…the quickest, cleverest, most confident man you knew.
You can’t help the way your heart flutters when he writes something like: “And when you read this sentence, I know you’ll smile and grip this letter a little tighter…”
-Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli
Such a classic, romantic man. You don’t just get sweet letters from your lover on floral stationery…he sends photographs and poetry, flowers and sweets he thinks you’ll like, sometimes you can expect a whole package instead of just a simple envelope from your favorite man.
His love language is definitely words of affirmation, and you can see it so clearly in his letters of adoration he crafts so carefully for you, filled with every ounce of his devotion to you.
However he is ALSO a passionate gift giver and he does not hold back when it comes to you. You feel a little guilty about accepting so many gifts from him, hence why he sends them in the mail…you wouldn’t hurt him by going through the trouble of sending them back, now would you?
His envelopes are perfumed with your favorite scents…expect lots of letters in his envelopes. He writes a lot for you, the words just pour from his heart when it comes to expressing his love for you, and he puts every word down on the paper to send to you.
And his poetry…if he knows you can’t read Italian, he’ll write it in Italian so you’ll ask him to recite it for you. His poems are long, too…so he can spend more time with you when he’s reading them to you.
He sends his letters at consistent intervals, so that you will always get his letters around the same time, every two weeks or so.
-Dio
Uses paper with beautiful, intricate gold detailings along the edges.
His letters are usually about a page and a half, written in large, elegant and complicated cursive.
His words are honeyed and sweet, a man who knows how to get what he wants, and somehow you can feel his overwhelmingly dominate presence just from his letters and you can’t help but submit to it, feeling reminded of his greatness, his grandness, how throughly divine he is…anyone would be weak to even just Dio’s words…and you are no exception.
If he’s a cage, your heart is a bird, watching the door slowly shut and yet making no move to escape, because the cage is made of gold, it’s so warm, it’s so safe, it’s so secure…the cage is better, the cage is where you want to be…you want the door to shut faster.
He writes so many words and manages to say nothing at all. Sweet nothings, empty promises, false flattery…all the while he has the audacity to act like you owe him your submission. And for some reason you eat up every word and lick the plate clean, in an attempt to savor every last flavor he had the graciousness to offer you.
You fall asleep with his letters clutched to your chest, treasuring the subtle scent of him that clung to the paper for as long as it lasted.
He occasionally scents envelopes with something akin to his own cologne, especially when the two of you have been apart for a while…it’s a great way to put you back in his pocket, as even a reminder of his scent is enough to remind you why you stay in his pocket…or in your case…his golden cage.
His letters arrive at his whim, typically when he happens to remember you, and how easy you are. Sometimes just a few weeks in between…sometimes too long for your own sanity, and you find yourself so desperate for him that as soon as his letters finally arrive you find yourself moved to tears merely at the sight of his personal seal upon an envelope.
Rohan Kishibe:
Rohan always strives to make you feel some sort of way with his letters…even if he can’t be there to see your reaction part of the pleasure that comes from penning you letters is imagining how you’ll look when you see what he’s decided to surprise you with.
They tend to come in little packages, since usually he tries to send you various other things with his letters…photographs and souvenirs from his adventures, sometimes in the form of various teas or candles or books.
He’s inconsistent with when he sends his gifts to you, since he wants them to be a surprise, but they’re usually never any more than two and a half months apart.
He will always scent his envelopes, and send you a small vial of whatever fragrance he used. Every letter he sends has a custom border that he draws himself, so each of them are totally unique, and significantly monetarily valuable, given who the illustrator and writer is (you would never try to AUCTION OFF his personal letters to you though, right??!!)
His penmanship is neat and tidy, like you would expect from him.
He’s not really a romantic man, even in his private correspondence to you, often opting instead to write about himself and whatever shenanigans he has recently gotten up to. You wouldn’t have it any other way. You’d rather hear his stories and about how he’s doing than read him trying to wax poetic to you about how much he adores you.
His letters range in length, typically from one to four pages, depending on his current situation. He’ll send you illustrations too, whether doodled in the margins of his letters or on drawing paper, tucked safely away in the package.
He draws you scenery, or pictures of you from memory, sometimes things he knows you like…and you’ll always get a special preview of his current projects. It’s only right that he shares his progress with the most important person in his life…and he’ll always value your feedback over most others.
One thing about Rohan though…he expects you to make good use of everything he sends you. And he’ll expect you to write back. He will literally not send you anything else until after he receives a letter from you, typically with no exceptions unless you are quite literally unable to write back or something of the sort.
Seems like a fair trade off to you…exchanging correspondence with such an interesting man is truly a delight, even though you feel you never have anything quite as interesting to share with him in turn.
To your surprise, he doesn’t ever seem bothered about the unfair trade-off. To him, your letters are perfect just the way they are.
He’s always relieved to hear you’re feeling well and living a peaceful life than stuck in life-threatening danger, no matter how interesting a story it might make.
-Yoshikage Kira:
One letter once a month on plain white paper in a plain white envelope, sealed shut with a single, simple heart sticker, occasionally scented with a neutral lavender perfume. Exactly one page long. He’ll leave it on your doorstep.
His penmanship is neat and clean, precise…he writes nice words…for such a quiet man who keeps to himself he does know how to sound sweet.
Something always feels just Slightly off when you receive his letters though. They’re written so nicely, and yet you can’t help but get the nagging suspicion that he’s holding himself back, or not quite believing his own words…like he’s saying it in an attempt to win you over, or keep your affection.
They are letters that are only worth reading once. You have no real proof, technically nothing is wrong with the letters…but you just can’t shake that slight pinch of doubt.
You would rather not read them. If he was being disingenuous with you, you’d rather it be to your face, since you don’t notice it that way.
He’ll only ask you about the letters a few days after they were delivered, just making sure you remembered to grab them and look over them and didn’t just leave them on your porch.
You keep the letters in a small box, tucking them up on a shelf somewhere out of sight, so you don’t have to worry about them too much.
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