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#NOTHING good comes out of harassing them
shirtlessradfahrer · 5 months
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I love that his bodyguard is clearly A-grade but I fucking hate that it’s come to the point that he needs one at all
I suppose it's inevitable when you get this popular but... :(
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yourlocalxbox · 55 minutes
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#being so similar to everyone is fucking exhausting#i can only :3 for so long before i fall back into the 'default' style and then its like i lose any shred of identity i had#if i were to 'be myself' you wouldnt be able to tell me apart from anyone if you tried#and to most people thats a reason for them to not treat me with respect#im 'close enough'#id like to be a version of myself that doesnt constantly want to put a bullet through my head#but i cant stop and try and 'embrace myself' or whatever because i cant stop#putting on a silly face is a compulsive urge that i cant rip off#i feel disgusted with myself and my thoughts and words but i cant stop#the silly little 'haiii :3c im so cute' mask is attached to me and it feels like some sort of parasite at this point#an 'alt personality' if you will. the irony of such a comparison is not lost on me#considering i alone am someone's '''alt personality''' with barely any personality of my own#laugh. that was funny. laugh.#feels like a fucking nightmare just trying to talk to people. like a creature mimicking sounds it hears to try and masquerade as a human#every time i think i have a hold of something im doing it wrong. dont people make fun of their friends? but when i do it its all wrong#dont people use silly emoticons? but when i do it its all wrong. dont people talk about their day? their interests?#all of mine are the wrong ones. apparently im a freak. for what? thinking dead things are cool? doesnt everyone? or for coping with my own-#-harassment and exploitation in a way that may not be common but ismt hurting anyone? cant i laugh or take a little pleasure in it? id-#-rather have a good time than cry about it. why doesnt that make sense to anyone. am i just some mentally ill freak.#how am i constantly doing everything wrong by literally just existing. im not even DOING anything but im THINKING wrong i guess??#im existing incorrectly?? okay. alright.#what fucking ever just let me fall back into a cute lil :3c roseboy persona so people can tolerate me again. works superficially at least#better than nothing i guess. people like cute things. im sooo cute guys love me#love me please just fucking love me i need to be loved#i would do anything to be loved you dont understand i need someone to worship me like they once did#at least when they ripped out my soul and took advantage of me and used me and lied to me they did it cause they loved me#id do anything to be loved like that again i dont care if it kills me i just want someone to love me again#if it hurts theyre doing it right isnt that how it is. love is supposed to hurt and love is supposed to take me over and leave me begging#love and obsession are one and the same and i long for the feeling of whichever one comes first
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chrollohearttags · 10 months
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drug dealer!mikasa and her hood princess gf headcanons
📝: don’t y’all judge me but this been in my head all day and it’s not going nowhere so I’m sharing the delusion.
mentions of heavy drugs, violence and weapons, robbery and setups, smut warning, tribbing, gunplay, fingering, car sex, Mika being a freak
drug dealer!mikasa, who you first met while working at a gas station was so infatuated the moment she laid eyes on you. Always frequenting on your scheduled days and making more visits than the average customer.
drug dealer!mikasa, who always looked fine as hell, regardless of how she was presenting that day. Whether she in a pair of baggy joggers, band t-shirt and a pair of Nikes or tight fitting two piece skirt and tube top that revealed all of the tattoos littering her toned body. Nothing but designer and expensive shit touched her skin.
drug dealer!mikasa appeared cool as a fan but every time she entered that store, she wondered how she was going to approach a bad bitch like you..loving your various hairstyles that you switched out weekly and duck bill nails. Not to mention the gold hoops dangling from your ears, clavicle piercings and tattoos.
“Who done your arm piece? It’s beautiful.” “From the shop on 104th. The tall dude with the long hair? Him.”
drug dealer!mikasa only smirked when you brought him up because she knew him very well. “That’s my boy Eren. We used to work together.” Failing to mention that said work involved a little something on the illegal side. Something she could never give up as easily.
drug dealer!mikasa, who drove a brand new matte black Audi R8 or Benz Truck when you saw her and wore jewelry that could pay your rent always gave a vague answer when you asked her what she done for a living.
“Shit, I’m tryna get like you, pookah. What you do for work?” “Family business. Nothing major.”
drug dealer!mikasa, who lived with her uncle, a well known club owner and kingpin attended the university as a business student, put her studies to good use selling all types of drugs to her peers; from the star football player to the stuck up sorority girls. It brought her joy to see those bitches tweaking on her supply.
drug dealer!mikasa, who mainly hung out on your side of town would offer to smoke you out after your shifts as you two sat in her car. Talking about random shit and having a good time. It was one night when the two of you were chilling when you decided to ask her once more what she done while she was high.
“I already told you, I’m in the family business.” uttering as you caught a glimpse of the baby Glock tucked between her console and a dime bag right beside it.
drug dealer!mikasa knew she couldn’t keep her secret any longer and seeing the excitement in your eyes at the prospect of her being a dealer, began to spend a lot more time with you and a whole lot more money! Buying you gifts, taking you out and spending racks at the strip club with you.
drug dealer!mikasa loved having you by her side when she made her drops. Knowing that you weren’t some boujie bitch who’d be scared. Sitting pretty in her passenger seat and holding her pistol. Not to mention that having a sidekick made it easier to hit a lick. Setting men up from her uncle’s club who had been harassing girls and robbing them blind.
“That dude again? Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. Right, baby?” “Of course, this gon’ be fun.”
drug dealer!mikasa, who didn’t even need drugs after the high of watching you get these assholes down to their underwear and then coming in for the drop. Getting turned on by watching you count your money up while the guy cried in the corner. Just having to fuck you crazy afterwards.
“Yeah, suck on that gun like you did him, baby.” That mouth is so fucking pretty..” shoving her barrel between your lips as she fingered you in the front seat. Knowing how much wetter it got that little plump pussy.
drug dealer!mikasa loved when you fed each other percs because the sex was ten times more intense. From letting your tongue piercings clash in sloppy kisses as you scissored to riding a double sided dildo for almost an hour; going back and forth to see who could come the most. Leaving the bed drenched in your puddles of squirt and silky cream.
drug dealer!mikasa dicked you down better than any man with that thick eight inch strap on. Pounding you from behind and slapping your thick ass with each stroke.
“You fucking the shit out this pussy!…oooh..” “Then come for me, gorgeous. Give me that shit.”
drug dealer!mikasa ate you out and stimulated herself with a vibrator until the two of you finally tapped out and came down from that high.
drug dealer!mikasa had never met a girl like you, knew she’d never be able to fuck with anyone else after getting a taste of you.
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dark-fics-4-you · 4 months
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Keeping the Peace
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credit to @jadiwrites for helping write the blowjob scene
dark!Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader with a side of dark!Sejanus Plinth (only one scene for Sejanus)
Warnings: smut, noncon (dead dove do not eat), forced sex, forced oral (m!recieving), reader is held up at gunpoint, unprotected sex, degradation, slight spit kink, kidnapping, violence, misogyny, free use themes, abuse of power, power imbalance
The sky over district 12 was cloudy and grey the first time you ever took notice of Coriolanus Snow.
Growing up in the aftermath of the districts’ rebellion meant that you had barely known a life that wasn’t ruled by Peacekeeping grunts. Your memories before then were murky, you could remember a difficult life without many pleasures or much to eat, followed by periods of war, when food was even harder to come by.
You could remember countless faceless Peacekeepers blurring together, all of them looked the same to you. Just a bunch of capitol brutes who struck fear into the heart and souls of everyone in your district, yourself included. You had learned at a young age to never talk to, or talk back to, a Peacekeeper.
Even making eye contact with a Peacekeeper was never a good idea, any facial expression that implied dissent could be punished. After all, who would question the word of a Peacekeeper over some district scum, as they often liked to call you.
However, as you made your way across the market, trading some leather for food and purchasing several jugs of water and any medicine you could, you couldn’t shake the burning feeling that you were being watched, maybe even followed.
You glanced around the crowded market, trying to catch the eye of whoever might be watching you, but you couldn’t figure it out. You had convinced yourself that you had to be paranoid, that you were just working yourself up over nothing, when you finally spotted him.
He was standing several yards away from you, and despite the many people in the busy market, his cold, blue eyes were trained on you. This Peacekeeper seemed on edge, like he was hoping for a fight to break out just so he could break it apart.
You felt a shiver pass through your body, averting your eyes immediately to avoid any suspicions from falling on to you.
It had to be a coincidence, you catching him staring at you once didn’t mean anything really, but something about the look in his eyes made you feel profoundly anxious for reasons you couldn’t identify.
You spent the entire walk to your house glancing over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed, and when you finally got to your house and closed the door behind you, even the safe walls of your home couldn’t calm your nerves for hours.
The second time that you took notice of Coriolanus Snow was a week after the incident in the market, but this time he got much closer to you.
You had been on a nighttime walk in the woods, trying to clear your head after the stressful shift you had just worked at the bar.
Your boss had yelled at your several times, threatening to cut your already measly pay if you messed up another order, but it wasn’t your fault that all the men who came into the bar harassed you so much that you could hardly remember if a certain order of beers went to the table where the red-faced pigs called you a whore or to the table of rowdy men that kept smacking your ass every time you walked by.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t quit. You and your family were barely surviving as it was, your mother too ill to work and your brother was too young.
You were so consumed in thought that you didn’t hear the rustling of the branches nearby.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here this late, young lady.”
You spun around, fear shooting through your body when you came face to face with a familiar pair of blue eyes.
The peacekeeper towered over you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took a step closer. His helmet was gone now, allowing you a glimpse at his blond buzz cut.
“Don’t you know there’s a curfew right now? You could get into serious trouble if I reported you to my superiors.” The man’s voice was low and threatening, his eyes sharp and determined.
“I’m sorry,” you replied quietly, trying to make yourself sound as non-argumentative as possible. Fear was pulsing through your veins. You had heard about the kind of things Peacekeepers would do to the districters that pissed them off, and you were terrified of something bad happening to you when you knew no one else could take care of your family.
“I just wanted to take a walk. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
He took a step closer and your fear rooted you in place. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his lips twitching into a scowl.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, sir.” Your heart was hammering in your chest. “Am I in trouble?”
“Depends, Y/N. Turn around and put your hands on that tree.”
“What?” Your eyes widened before nervously glancing around. You were still a 10 minute walk from the town, and 15 from your house. An area this remote was not one anyone would be visiting for hours. There was no one else around this late at night, and the cool breeze now gave you chills.
“Did I stutter?” He took another step towards you, crowding your space, and you backed away from him in fear. You didn’t miss the way that his hand came to rest on the pistol at his hip. “I said, turn around and lean against that tree, I need to search you for counterfeit goods.”
You had been searched by Peacekeepers before, but this was different. Before, it had always occurred in the market or the main square, but now you found yourself all alone in the dark, completely at the mercy of this stranger who held absolute power and authority above you.
You took a breath to calm yourself, trying to tell yourself that you were fine. That he was just going to search you and then let you leave. You turned your back to him and placed your hands on the large tree in front of you.
When he moved closer to you, chest practically pressing to your back before he had begun to search you, you took in a sharp breath. Why was he so close to you? Had the Peacekeepers always conducted their searches like this?
His large hands came to your waist, patting around the fabric of your clothes, circling your waist before returning to your sides. They trailed lower, grabbing at the cloth of your skirt before passing over your hips. His hands ghosted over your ass for just a moment before moving to your legs. It was so quick you weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if you imagined it.
When he was satisfied with checking your lower body, his hands returned to your waist, climbing up the sides of your ribcage.
You yelped in surprise when you felt his large hands cover your chest, roughly squeezing your tits as he held his body close to you. This time, you felt no doubt at all about whether he knew he was doing. You couldn’t move, terrified of what he might do if you tried to break away from him.
You skin crawled when his lips pressed to your neck, smooth voice whispering into your ear, “just need to be thorough.”
He inhaled deeply through his nose, giving your breasts one final pinch before pushing you against the tree and stepping back.
You spun around to look at him, back pressed to the rough bark and eyes fearful.
He looked amused as he stared down his nose at you and you were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.
“Don’t let me catch you breaking curfew again, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice was cold and hard. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to write you up.”
You shuddered at what it might mean if he caught you again, but you didn’t have time to think about it, because when he stepped aside to let you past him, you ran the entire way home, bolting all of the doors when you got there.
You came to learn through passing that his name was Coriolanus Snow. Several of your friends had experienced run ins with him before, but nothing like what had happened to you.
After the night that he searched you in the woods, you started to notice him everywhere. He must have figured out your daily and weekly schedule, because even though you had started to try avoiding him, he was always at the market when you went shopping and you found that he had been stationed outside of the bar you worked at every night you were on the schedule.
You grew to expect the feeling of his eyes following you everywhere, although that didn’t mean it unnerved you any less.
One night, completely exhausted from your shift, you exited the bar in a hurry, forgetting to do your usual sweep to scan for Coriolanus lurking around.
Wanting to take the shortest route possible, you opted to head through the dimly lit alleyway behind the bar.
“Get any good tips tonight, Y/N?” The voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water.
You turned to see Coriolanus leering above you, blocking the way you had came, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face. The sounds of the bar were muffled but still loud and raucous, although the only thing you could hear was your heart beating quickly in your chest.
You cleared your throat, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice, “No, not really.”
“Mm, tough night?” He asked, voice lighter now, but it didn’t do anything to make you feel better.
“Every night is here,” you responded, nodding your head to the bar behind you.
“I bet,” the taller man answered, inching closer to you as he did. “Why don’t you pull out your wallet, sweetheart?” Although it was phrased more like a statement than a question.
“My wallet?” You repeated nervously, reaching for your purse slowly.
He grinned as he snatched the bag from your hands and started to rifle through it. “I mean, you said you didn’t make any good tips tonight, so I figured you wouldn’t miss ‘em.”
“But I need that money!” You huffed with frustration. “My Ma’s sick! She needs medicine all the time.”
Coriolanus chucked darkly, starting to grow annoyed, “You think I give a fuck about whether your Ma lives or dies?” He grabbed the handful of cash that you had been saving up for weeks and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Hmm, seems like a lot of money, Y/N. I wonder how a simple waitress could have made so much?”
“That’s my money I’ve been saving! I told you, it’s for my Ma, I’m just trying to get her better treatments, please!” You pleaded with him, tears beginning to form at your waterline.
He just shook his head, tsk-ing like he was disappointed in you. “First you broke curfew, and now this, Y/N? You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight. I’m taking this money and letting you off with another warning. Unless of course, you wanna give me a reason to search you again.”
Coriolanus towered above you, drinking you in with amused eyes and enjoying the frustration written all over your face, “How does that sound?”
You bit your tongue, rage boiling inside you, “fine,” you answered through gritted teeth.
He threw your now empty purse at you, before moving to let you pass. As you walked by him, however, his hand shot out to roughly slap your ass, and you could still hear his chuckles echoing off the walls as you ran out of the alley with tear stained eyes.
Two days after that incident, you returned home from a double shift at the bar to madness. You needed to make up for the money that Coriolanus had taken from you somehow, and now you were working yourself to the bone to try to cover for the unexpected loss.
You were shocked to find the place swarming with Peacekeepers who were tearing your home apart. You entered slowly, not wanting any trouble from them, but needing to check on your ma and little brother.
“What’s going on?” You demanded of one of the Peacekeepers, but you got no answers.
Well, not until an all too familiar face emerged from your room with something clutched in his hand. His piercing blue eyes found you immediately, but his face remained hardened. Your mouth dropped in surprise when you realized what he was holding.
“This room is clear,” he announced loudly, not breaking his eye contact as you watched him stuff a pair of your panties into his pocket.
A horrible chill passed through your body and you felt like you could be sick. Why of all people was he choosing to target you? What had you ever done to him to warrant any of this?
Your brother began to cry when they entered his room, and you hugged him tight, brushing your fingers through his hair and quietly singing a lullaby to calm him. You nervously glanced at your mother, who was seated in the kitchen with you.
“Y/N Y/L/N?”
Your head snapped to Coriolanus, who gestured for you to come over to him. You pressed a kiss to your brother’s head before standing and crossing over to him, making sure you kept your distance.
“What do you want, Coriolanus?” You hissed quietly, trying not to draw the attention of the other Peacekeepers.
“Got some reports of possible rebel activity taking place here. We have to check out any tips we get.” His cool response made you want to scream. You knew that he was lying through his teeth, the only people who even came to your home were you, your brother, and your Ma.
“You and I both know that’s not true!” You hopelessly pleaded with him. “Please, can’t you leave my family alone? It’s hard enough for them as is.”
He chuckled at your desperation, clearly pleased with the panicked response he was receiving, before barking at the men in your brother’s room to get out.
When he pushed you into the doorway of your brother’s room, your ma and brother cried out in protest, but Coriolanus yelled at them to shut the fuck up before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Maybe you didn’t learn your lesson the first two times. And since the other Peacekeepers haven’t gotten the chance, I think I should search you myself.” He pushed you up against the wall that you were facing, roughly pressing your cheek to it while the hand at the back of your neck clenched down.
This time he didn’t even pretend to properly search you, the hand at your neck immediately clamping over your mouth to muffle your protests, while the other groped your chest, plucking at your tits while you struggled in his grasp. He slid his hand under your shirt and bra this time, sighing into your ear when he finally squeezed the soft, tender skin of your breast.
“You’re so beautiful, y’know that, Y/N?” He whispered, and you wanted to be sick at the feeling of his fingers tweaking your hardening nipple. “With a little make up and some better clothes, you’d fit right in with the rich capital girls.”
A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek and you blinked more away. You felt impossibly trapped, frozen in fear and trembling in his arms. His hands came to your hips, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he rubbed his hard on against your ass.
His lips were close to your ear, “if you want to protect your family, you need to stop trying to avoid me.”
“Fuck you,” you whispered, against your better judgment.
At this he chuckled, and one of his hands left your hips, grabbing onto your chin, forcing your head to the side and holding you still as his lips smothered yours with a rough kiss.
And then he backed off, walking out of the room before he called off the other men.
You were still in shock as you caught your breath, staring at the space he was just occupying as you tried to collect your head.
Lips still burning from his kiss, you shuddered as you thought about what you might need to do to keep your ma and brother safe from him.
After they had all filed out and you took a moment to adjust your clothes, you finally left your brother’s room and took in the wreckage they had left behind. The house was trashed, furniture knocked over and papers scattered about everywhere.
Your room was the worst of all though, everything had been pulled out of the drawers and piled on the floor, your mattress was up against the wall, your desk had been toppled over, leaving anything on top of it to scatter across your room, and they had shattered your mirror, leaving a jagged piece reflecting your misery back at you as you stood in the door.
Your ma was a mess, crying and hugging you and your brother for an hour afterwards, repeatedly questioning out loud why they would do this to your family.
Unfortunately, the answer was all too plain to you now, although you were still too freighted to fully admit it to yourself.
For whatever reason, Coriolanus Snow had decided to stake his claim on you, and based on your previous interactions with him, you knew that it was only a matter of time before he would take what he wanted.
For a week, you were terrified to leave your house alone, always calling on your friends to ask them to walk with you too and from work or the market.
In those days, Coriolanus’ presence always weighed heavy on you, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. Even having your friends nearby couldn’t stave off the fear that clutched your heart when you noticed Coriolanus stalking behind your group, always a good deal of distance away, but you knew that he made himself visible to you on purpose.
The feeling of safety became something of the past. Everywhere that you went, he was there, although he hadn’t spoken to you since he and his other Peacekeeping brutes tore your home apart. But that didn’t make him any less terrifying.
Even your house, which had felt secure and safe for so long was no longer sacred. It had taken days to clean up the place, and much of your furniture had been broken in the frenzy.
After Coriolanus had assaulted you in your home, you bartered with some friends to acquire a large lock to place on the front door of the house, but it still didn’t provide much protection when the peacekeepers could just break the door down.
Unfortunately for you, having that lock also didn’t do you any good if you forgot to use it.
After waving goodbye to your friend as you walked up to your door after a late night shift, you pulled out your key and turned the lock, leaving it hanging on the door and closing it behind you.
The first thing that you noticed when you stepped inside was how unusually quiet it was. Usually your brother would be at the door to greet you, even at this late hour, but he wasn’t there this time, and when you called out for your ma and brother, you only heard silence in response. Where were they?
Alarm bells started ringing in your head as you ventured further, and you had just stepped into the doorway of your room when you heard a heavy click and felt cold steel press against the back of your head.
You froze in place, staring ahead into the broken mirror across from you that confirmed who was behind the trigger.
Your eyes locked in the mirror, the cold resolve set in his icy blue gaze made you shudder.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop trying to stay away from me, Y/N?” He was angry, a lethal poison infecting his voice.
You couldn’t speak, your mouth was dry, and your mind was racing a million miles a second, but you needed to know that your family was safe.
“Did you hurt them?” You whispered.
“Not yet. Your Ma and brother will be fine. As long as you do what I say.”
You let out a shaky breath at the confirmation that they were safe, but your stomach still turned at his words. You were terrified of Coriolanus, and now that he had you completely at his mercy, you knew that he wouldn’t let you go until he took exactly what he wanted from you.
“You understand, yes?” The gun pressed to your skull harder and you quickly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Get on your knees, slowly.” You felt him move the pistol away from your head for a moment, and you turned around, meeting his eyes fearfully before lowering yourself to kneel before him.
Coriolanus unbuttoned his blue shirt, dropping it on the floor behind him. He looked at you expectantly and you realized he wanted you to unbuckle his belt. Your trembling fingers fumbled with the belt before reaching forward to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper. He pushed his pants down his legs before removing his boxers as well.
He smirked down at you as you took in the size of him.
“Such a pretty girl,” you flinched when you felt one hand twist into your hair while the other brought the pistol to your temple. “But I think you’d look better with your lips wrapped around my cock.”
The hand in your hair tightened, pulling at your scalp and dragging your head forward.
Reluctantly, you lifted your hand to wrap around the base of his thick cock, nervously wetting your lips before parting them and taking the tip into your mouth.
Coriolanus pushed himself deeper, nudging the back of your throat and groaning lowly when your eyes flitted up to meet his.
You pressed your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth, trying to make more room for him as he sped up his pace.
You closed you eyes, bringing every thought to controlling your breath as he pushed his cock to the back of your throat, in and out between your lips. The cooling metal of the gun barrel was still taut against your skin, trembling slightly as Coriolanus gritted his teeth above you.
"Look at that, you're relaxing for me, good girl." But where did your pretty eyes go? That wouldn't do, he needed all of your attention. The nails of his fingers dug into your scalp, and tears sprung into your eyes. Your muffled yelp reached his ears.
"You'll keep," a groan interrupted him as your hand tightened around his cock, "your eyes open, and on me.”
“Do....you...understand?" Each word was punctuated by a harsh thrust into your throat, pushing past your tongue and slamming against the back of your neck.
You pathetically hummed around his cock in agreement, nervously keeping your eyes on his, not wanting to give him any reasons to hurt you.
By the time he was coming down your throat, your lips were puffy from his brutal pace, and your tears made your cheeks slick and shiny. You gagged at the sensation, throat closing around his length as he spilled his seed down your throat. He held your head in place, choking you with his cock until you had swallowed every drop of his salty cum.
Coriolanus’ grip on the gun had tightened as he came and you fearfully glanced at it before meeting his eyes again.
When he pulled his cock out of your mouth, he was quick to drag you to your feet before tossing you stomach first onto the bed behind you.
Coryo finally holstered his gun, turning back to you and easily pushing you against the bed as he bunched your skirt up at your waist. He let out a low whistle as he admired your ass, reaching out a hand to grope you before giving the soft flesh a sharp smack, earning him a whine from you. You could feel your hips digging into the hard mattress that you had had for your whole life.
You struggled in his arms, but when his hand found it’s home around your throat and you felt his cockhead start sliding past your lips, you realized there was nothing you could do to avoid what was coming.
Coriolanus pushed all of himself into you in one slow, punishing thrust. You didn’t have any time at all to adjust to his thick length before he was gripping your ass tightly, canting his hips back and thrusting into you again.
Your gasps and cries were muffled by his large hand at your throat. The way he tightened his grip combined with the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars.
His pace was brutal. Coriolanus had been imagining this for weeks, and after you kept yourself away from him the past few days, he wanted to make the most of the first time he fucked you.
Each time you tried to escape from under him, his large arms wrapped around you again, holding you in place as he snapped his hips against your ass, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust.
“Keep trying to get away sweetheart,” his hot breath fanned over your neck, and the blond drew closer to suck at a tender spot until you whined and melted back into his arms. “I like watching you struggle.”
Your stomach turned and you tried to ignore how weak your knees felt at the peacekeeper’s whispered threats in your ear.
Coriolanus pulled out of you, not giving you time to process his actions before he was flipping you onto your back.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you tried to break away from the terrifying man above you while you had the chance, but you were too slow.
The blond captured you again, throwing you onto the bed and straddling you as you thrashed against him. When Coriolanus reached his hand out again to choke you, you could feel your heart beating against his hand.
You flinched when he drew close to you, his nose practically touching yours as he forced you to look at his eyes.
When he pushed into you again, stretching you out from a new angle, you whimpered, trying hard not to let your eyes flutter close.
Coriolanus reveled at the sight of your sweet, tear filled eyes meeting his as he split you open with his cock. The way that you trembled beneath him gave him a thrilling sense of control over you. He knew that you already would let him do whatever he wanted, but for some twisted reason he wished he had held onto his gun so he could press it to your temple as he fucked you and see the fear in your eyes.
Your cunt was pulling him in, squeezing and twitching around his length with every thrust. He could feel you getting wetter around him with every brush against your walls.
“You’re so tight, so wet,” he strained, getting distracted by the sounds of your cunt squelching with every move he made. “I need to fill up that pretty pussy, Y/N.”
At the sight of your eyes widening and your lips parting in protest, Coriolanus clamped his hand over your mouth before fucking you faster, groaning and cursing under his breath.
“Someone needed to- fuck,“ Coriolanus’ voice caught in his throat when he felt you clench around him, “someone needed to teach you a lesson about respecting authority. You should feel lucky that I was willing to.”
Begging and sobbing against his hand only spurred him on and he laughed at every pathetic attempt you made to push him off.
Coriolanus’ hand crept from your mouth to frame your jaw and he roughly squeezed your cheeks until you opened your mouth. The blond spat into your mouth and you gagged, your repulsion making your skin crawl. You wanted to throw up at the feeling of his spit sliding down your throat when you swallowed it, and Coriolanus chuckled at your disgust as he leered over you.
“You’re just a filthy district slut,” his hand returned to your throat, choking you harder than he had before, “and that’s all you’ll ever be, Y/N.” The venom and hatred in his voice shocked you, and the way he was thrusting into you was downright punishing.
You were clenching around him so tight, and the sight of your sweet, innocent face marred with so much fear was enough to send Coriolanus over the edge.
He slowed, groaning as he pumped you full of his seed, his cock still twitching inside of you.
After he pulled out and moved off of you, you tried to turn away from him, but his hand shot out and latched onto your wrist, twisting your arm painfully before forcing you to face him and firmly kissing you.
When he pulled away, the words that he uttered sent a chill over your skin, “Snow lands on top.”
The next few days were a blur as you blinked in and out of dissociation. Coriolanus had his way with you more times than you could count, never caring about your distress at him using your body however he pleased.
Any resistance you put up was easily squashed when he snapped back threats to hurt your family. However if he was in a really bad mood, he would brandish his pistol, pressing the sharp metal to your forehead until you sobbed, and apologized for fighting back.
You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since you first discovered that Coriolanus had your ma and brother thrown in jail.
Every time Coriolanus sank into you, you could feel yourself receding into your mind, trying to protect yourself from the nightmare you found yourself in.
During the days, he would go out to terrorize the people of district 12, and during the nights, he would return to terrorize you.
One night you lay in your bed, praying that your ma and brother were safe. You could only imagine the horrible things they could be being subjected to at the hands of the peacekeepers.
Your neck was sore and bruised, as were your wrists. Your entire body was aching with pain from Coriolanus’ repeated abuse.
When you heard the front door swing open, you tensed instinctively, closing in on yourself in anxiety. Hushed voices reached your ears and you craned your neck to try to hear better. They seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.
“I mean, don’t you think that maybe what you’re doing here is wrong?”
“Sejanus, if anything, you’d be helping the poor girl, we’ll give her food for every load she takes.” Your stomach turned at the disgusting way Coriolanus was talking about you, and the way his friend laughed along with him.
“And you’re sure she’s not going to try to tell somebody?”
“Nobody would believe her over a Peacekeeper, and besides, who will there be to tell? I have dirt on every officer in 12, if they tried to do anything to put a stop to this, they’d be taking themself down as well.”
The men were both silent as Coriolanus’ words sunk in.
“You promise you’ll actually help her out afterwards?” His friend, Sejanus apparently, sounded somewhat concerned, but clearly not concerned enough to report Coriolanus. “And she’s gonna get something in return?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure her brother gets some candy or something,” Coriolanus chuckled and you heard the other man laughing too.
“Is she in there right now?” Those words had you sitting up in bed, fear clutching your heart. Coriolanus wasn’t seriously discussing pimping you out to his friends, was he?
You got your answer immediately however, when your door opened and you came face to face with a man you recognized as another peacekeeper. He seemed anxious, but after he noticed your state of undress, he advanced on you with the same sick desire you had seen in Coriolanus’ eyes several times now.
Your throat was dry and anxiety laced your words as you pleaded with him, “Wait, please don’t!”
“Shut up,” he growled, leering over you as you sat on the bed.
You tried to put up a fight, but it was all in vain. You really should have known you couldn’t take on a peacekeeper. Despite your attempt to run past him and reach the door, he easily grabbed you and shoved you back onto the bed. His hands pawed at your undergarments, throwing them behind him without a second thought before he removed his pants and stroked his hard cock.
When he forcefully pushed himself into your sore pussy, you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes and spilling over when he began to rock back and forth.
Sejanus was different than his friend in several ways. While Coriolanus had been rough and kept a fast pace, you found that Sejanus preferred to take his time, slowly pushing his cock into you as you trembled in his grasp. After the initial struggle, he was surprisingly tender and gentle, caressing your soft skin, pressing kisses to your breasts, and sucking on your sensitive nipples.
Unlike the blond, Sejanus seemed almost unwilling to meet your eyes, and when you protested or put up any resistance, instead of reveling in the fight, Sejanus just covered your mouth with his large palm so your yelps couldn’t reach his ears.
“I’m doing this for you, Y/N.” He whispered against your skin when he drew close, tilting his hips back so he almost slid all the way out before slowly filling you up again all the way to the hilt.
His words only made you feel worse. You didn’t want any of this, and when you grabbed his hand off of your mouth and told him as much, his eyes darkened in anger.
You whimpered when his hand came to your throat, squeezing harshly against the faded bruises.
“I’m not a bad guy, okay?” It was hard to discern if he was trying to convince you or himself, and after he slapped you for not agreeing with him, you nodded and tearfully responded.
“You’re not.”
“I’m not,” his hot breath fanned over your dewy skin as he repeated himself on a loop, thrusting his cock into your tight cunt again and again. “I’m not. I’m not.”
You whined when his hand came between your legs, swirling around your clit and stealing unwanted gasps from you.
Every drag of his thick cock against your snug walls mixed with his twitching fingers at your clit brought you closer to the brink or orgasm.
Tears fell past your eyes which were squeezed shut, and you whimpered as you came around him and he fucked you harder, fingers never leaving your clit.
When you came again, Sejanus kissed you for the first time, desperation and hunger evident in the way his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, swallowing your moans as his lips slid over yours. You felt disgusted, but also couldn’t ignore the confusing way you clenched around him when his lips first found yours.
Your third orgasm was close behind the second, tearing through you with force and Sejanus grunted at the feeling of your slick cunt choking his cock, fucking you faster and chasing his own release.
He cursed loudly when he came, shuddering as he slowly snapped his hips against yours to fuck his cum deeper inside of you.
Sejanus kissed you again before pulling out, quietly apologizing without meeting your eyes and then he was gone, leaving you exhausted and sore in a bed you no longer felt safe in.
As you lay there, trying to ground yourself and comprehend what you had just gone through, you couldn’t help but think of your mother and brother, who were being held in prison just because of the twisted infatuation Coriolanus had with you.
How different would your life be now if he had never approached you that late night several weeks ago?
And what was your life going to look like now that he had claimed his stake on you and was planning to let his Peacekeeper friends “share” you and take advantage of you whenever they pleased?
Hours had passed as you tried to think of any way out of the bottomless pit that you now found yourself in. Tears had subsided a while ago, but now you were just left with emptiness. You were still lost in thought when the door opened and Coriolanus’ large frame cast a shadow across your bed.
The grin he shot you after he took in your distressed state was smug, triumphant even, and the glint in his eyes told you exactly why he was entering your room at the early hours of the morning.
Tonight, you didn’t put up any fight at all.
1K notes · View notes
ohimsummer · 5 months
Text
BEG FOR IT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU
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— minors dni, bully! satosugu x female! reader, feisty idk, dubcon, groping, nipple play, nipple stimulation, biting/marking, a hint of choking, teasing
wc 1.9k
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You’ve heard the name Satoru Gojo whispered among males and females alike on campus. How he’s good looking and charming and oh-so skilled at everything. You think his greatest skill might be getting on the nerves of people who want nothing to do with him.
This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into an altercation with Gojo. It seems he seeks you out for the sole purpose of one; to pin your wrists above your head and lean in close to tease, and suffocate you with his loud cologne that you’ll never admit smells delectable on him. The way this song and dance usually goes is he spots you, taunts you, wrestles you against a wall until he deems your squirming and whining “too annoying”, and then he leaves you with a “See ya later, princess!”. You don’t know why today suddenly warrants different results.
“Let go of me, Gojo.”, you deadpan at him, icy stare meeting his own. You don’t find this manhandling of you funny, you never do, and you hate the way Gojo laughs about it like your dismay is just hilarious to him.
“Make me.”, he chuckles in your face.
Fuck him. You twist against his hold again, and Gojo has to give you credit for actually managing to free a hand. Though it’s about all you’ll manage. He’s too big and too heavy for you to force proximity — it’s like throwing yourself at a brick wall. Doesn’t mean you can’t try.
“Aw, how cute.,” Gojo snickers at your attempt to push him away by the throat, grabbing your wrist and holding it away from him. “Try a little harder for me, yeah?” And he bats those stupid, long eyelashes at you.
You sigh in exasperation and squirm some more. You stamp at his foot, and he moves them at the last minute every time. You push against him to at least get away from the wall, but it’s all to no avail. He’s got you trapped here and there seems to be nothing you can do about it.
“Give up?,” he asks at your deflation.
His taunt springs you back to life, and your cheeks puff out in an angry pout. “Let go of me, I said!”
“Make me, I said.”
And if it wasn’t for your hands being restrained, you’d claw him right in his annoyingly pretty face.
You wriggle again. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t you have anything better to do with your spare time besides harass innocent girls?”
Gojo maneuvers your wrists into one hand just so he can tap at his chin. “Better than this? Don’t think so, gorgeous.” He leans forward to whisper into your ear. “And I’m not harassing innocent girls, I’m harassing you-“
“Get off me!” Your writhing and thrashing cuts off the end of his sentence, and Gojo bursts with laughter at your futile struggles.
“Oh? Who’s that?”
Both of you turn to the sound of the familiar voice. You sigh an obvious, angry breath at the arrival of another annoying man, Suguru Geto. Of all the people who could have come across you two, it had to be someone else to get on your nerves.
“My little plaything.,” Gojo answers. “Cute, isn’t she?“
Geto comes to stand next to his best friend, and something twitches in the pit of your stomach. Aggravation, yes, but something else telling you to hurry and get out of there.
You glare at the two men who steadily eye your constrained form. The look in their eyes harbors anything but good intentions.
Geto starts. “She-“
“Are you two gonna hold me here all day or….?” You have a feeling their spiteful answer is closer to yes, so since you figure they’ll keep you here, might as well be as annoying to them as they are to you.
“Such a pretty face.” You turn away as Geto thumbs at your glossy lips. “Shame you’re so rude.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being so polite to my captors.” They laugh at the scowl on your face, and you find yourself shrinking away from their salacious leering.
Geto tilts his head, and you notice his lingering gaze on your chest. “I just got here, I’m not the one keeping you in these halls.”
“Well, you’re surely not helping.”
Gojo chimes in. “You don’t wanna spend time with us, Y/-“
His grip loosened for just a second, guard let down because Geto’s around, and you take full advantage of it. You yank your wrists away from his grasp, bolting between them and heading for the nearest door to the outside. You can see it clearly, your escape: white double doors with warm sunlight flooding in through the window, a lit up path to your savior, the outside. Your fingers are grazing that first streak of sunshine, the heat of it kisses your fingertips-
There’s a jerk of your wrist, and your salvation is stripped away as fast as it came. You feel a firm heat against your back, and the view of the doors is blocked by Geto’s tall frame. Bright beams of sunlight flow around his body, giving him such a dramatic lighting. Like he’s a god or something. You have to laugh, if not for the irony then for your own sanity because your escape attempt has been so quickly thwarted.
Gojo’s hefty, patronizing laugh sounds out in your eardrum. “And where did you think you were going, hm?”
You’re so pissed off you can’t even hear their cruel mockery. Hands now pinned behind your back, all you can do is hang your head in frustration and curse them in your mind, and God knows you’re cursing the absolute hell out of them. Gojo and Geto and their stupid laugh, their stupid faces, their stupid, stupid need to always be bothering you.
Caught up in your own scornful thoughts, you don’t hear when they address you.
“Think we broke her?,” Gojo asks.
Geto hums, chuckles. “Maybe.” He steps a little closer to you and Gojo. “Let’s see.”
His larger hands hover over your sides, rising until they near your chest. Gojo eagerly studies his movements over your shoulder, watches in anticipation as his friend’s hands come to rest on your breasts.
The groping of your boobs brings you back to reality, and you snap your gaze to the dark haired man in front of you. “H-hey, wait a second-!”
Geto doesn’t stop, only begins slowly massaging your tits as Gojo speaks. “Oh? Back with us, princess?”
You’re incredulous at the absolute gall they have to treat you this way. “Stop that!”
Narrow, dark eyes meet your own, wide and brimming with newfound anxiety. Geto ignores your demands, and his thumbs move to press over your nipples through the two layers of your shirt and bra. It feels so teasing, and the ministrations are causing a wetness between your legs, but you’d never let these two see this is turning you on.
You wiggle and pull away from Geto, but that only presses you further into Gojo’s body. It’s a lose-lose situation. Geto sees the realization in your eyes.
“Gonna behave for me?,” he murmurs as his fingers dip beneath your shirt.
“St-stop—!”, you try and command him with even an ounce of authority, but it comes out as a feeble whimper.
Gojo uses one hand to keep your wrists bound, and the other latches onto your throat. He directs your wavering glare towards him, presses his lips to your cheek as he continues to taunt you.
“We’ll let you go if you beg…”, he offers.
And your immediate answer is of course no, you’d rather eat shit and die. “I most certainly will not! Let go of me!”
Geto pulls your shirt above the swell of your breasts, exposing a lacey, pink bra. He comments ‘cute’, and you barely register it since you’re too busy struggling to turn your head against Gojo’s tight grip. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and while you’re reeling with what you hope is disgust, you feel the tightness of your bra loosen and the undergarment falls to the floor.
“Look at that.”, Gojo halts his teasing assault on you for a second to take a good look at your exposed tits. “So selfish hiding all this from us.”
“I’m not-!,” A squeak interrupts your statement as Geto runs a tongue over one nipple. Your thighs clench on instinct, and the look they share tells you they both noticed.
“I’m not!”, you finish your sentence. You don’t even know what else to say after that.
“Y’know…”, Geto mutters in between harsh suckles of your hardening nipples. “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, you could’ve been out of this by now...”
The sheer audacity for him to even utter such a phrase has you struggling once again. “Weak? It’s taking two of you just to keep me here!”
Gojo promptly quips, “Only one of us is holding you, sweetheart.”
You aim to crush his toes beneath your shoes, only to be met with the floor when Gojo once again dodges your attack. Your lack of a proper comeback might as well be the funniest joke on earth the way he laughs in your ear about it. Not like it’s your fault, how are you supposed to focus with Geto swirling your nipples on his tongue and pinching them between thick fingers, and Gojo biting and sucking rough marks along your neck? You’re fighting back moans and trying to find the strength just to stay upright. If that wasn’t enough, you’re also juggling the fact that your panties are soaked straight through and, if you don’t leave soon, they’ll notice the discoloration dripping down your stockings.
Gojo gives your throat a squeeze, and smirks as you rasp in a breath.
“All you gotta do is beg for it.”, he quietly sings against your earlobe.
Pride be damned, you needed to get away before they used your arousal as another excuse to keep you around any longer. And to escape straight to your dorm for a little private time because just the way Geto was playing with you was gonna have your pussy leaking everywhere. You would not, could not afford to let them see you like that. You’d never hear the end of it.
Gojo’s hand leaves your throat and you let out a sigh. But your relief is short-lived as you feel his touch edge closer to your backside.
You’ve never made a decision faster. “Please let go of me.”
For a split second, it’s like time has stopped. Geto pulls away from your hardened nipples with a loud ‘pop’, Gojo’s hand stills on the curve of your ass. Both men look at you with matching grins, like they just won a Nobel prize.
Geto speaks first. “What was that?”
And Gojo right after. “Yeah, repeat it again?”
Your brows furrow and your gaze falls directly to the floor. “Pl…please let go of me.”
The grip on your wrists loosens instantly, and you snatch away from them both. You tug your shirt down to cover your breasts, and wrap both arms around yourself.
“See, now was that so hard?”, Gojo laughs after you who’s already heading out the door, yelling a shaky ‘fuck you guys!’ as it drifts shut behind you.
You walk back to your dorm on wobbly legs, erect buds poking through your wrinkled top. Finally able to flop down in the comfort of your bed, you realize you never picked your bra up off the floor.
No worries. It’s perfectly safe in their hands.
(aftermath)
2K notes · View notes
throneofsapphics · 7 months
Text
the ebb and flow of fate
Cazriel x f!Reader (Mor’s sister)
(part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)
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Summary: “Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened. 
“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” 
Word Count: ~6.2k
Warnings: eventual smut in later chapters, sexual assault, harassment, stalking, nightmares, light smut-ish (m/m, briefly described), light angst, liberal use of bargains, minors dni!
A/N: this was written for day 20 of my kink/angst-tober prompts but, my patience is limited and I needed to get this out of into the world and out of my brain for a bit. part 2 will be posted 10/20.
Something in her had been … off, ever since she visited a friend in the Autumn Court. Of course, they had all heavily protested her choice, but she’d been a friend of hers for years, and she firmly held her ground - insisting everything would be fine and that they didn’t know of her relation to them. 
It was driving all of them to the verge of insanity trying to figure out exactly what happened. Rhys gently probed against her mind once, and was immediately shut out - the walls going up like impenetrable iron gates, and a litany of creative curses were shouted down the hall. 
-
“How was your visit?” Mor asked hesitantly. She was curled up in an armchair, eyes quickly scanning the page, a full plate of food - likely a few hours old, still on the table beside her. 
“Fine.” Y/n replied, not looking up. The same answer she’d given everyone all week. 
“Any more details?” She probed. 
She slammed the book shut, looking up at her. “What else do you want me to say?” Her voice was low, and she could tell her anger was rising to dangerous levels. Maybe it would be worth provoking y/n’s temper, if only to get some kind of reaction out of her. 
“You won’t eat, you won’t talk to us, and you’re walking around like a gods-damned ghost.” 
She plucked a grape from the plate next to it, popping it in her mouth with an indignant look on her face. “Better?” Gods, she was going to kill her - sister or not. 
“I want you to tell me what the fuck happened before Rhys and I storm over there and kill someone.” Mor spat, rising to her feet. Y/n rose with her, throwing the blanket off, fists clenched at her side. 
“That’s not necessary.” 
“You can tell us anything, you know that right?” She tried to keep her voice gentle, soft even.
“I’m aware,” she snipped, “but that doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.” 
“For Cauldron’s sake.” She ran a hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before leaving the room - in case she said or did anything she regretted. 
“Any luck?” Rhys asked from the end of the hallway. 
“Don’t act like you weren’t eavesdropping.” 
He grimaced, but turned to stride with her. “It’s been three days.” He said quietly, “Cassian and Azriel will be back tomorrow.” 
If anyone can get answers out of her, it would be those two. Even Amren couldn’t reach her. 
-
“Where’s y/n?” Cassian asked the next day. Mor looked to Rhys with a grimace. A shadow curled around Azriel’s ear. 
“In her room probably.” Mor replied. The same place she’d spent most of her time in. 
“Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened. 
“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” 
He relayed the message, and they all heard the sound of something slamming - along with a wince from Rhys. Mor figured she’d likely shouted something into his mind. Two minutes passed, and nothing. Cassian glanced at Azriel, and the two Illyrians rose - heading down the hall.  
“Good luck.” Mor muttered behind them and Rhys snorted. 
-
“What’s wrong with you?” Cassian’s voice echoed through the room as her door swung open - hitting the wall hard enough there might be a small dent. 
“Nothing.” She muttered, turning over in her bed and tugging the blankets closer to her. Azriel exchanged a look with him. 
“Get up.” Cassian barked. 
“Fuck off.” 
“Not happening princess.” He strode towards the side of the bed, ripping the blanket back. He was greeted by a book careening towards his face, one he deflected with a shield. “You can do better than that.” He tugged the pillow out from under her and she shot up to sit. His stance widened, feet braced on the floor - prepared for a fight. 
“Leave. Me. Alone.” Y/n said through gritted teeth. 
Cassian hummed, tilting his head as if he was debating it. “No.” 
“On your feet or over his shoulder, your choice.” Azriel said from behind him. His voice was flat and smooth. Another book launched - where the hell had it come from? And Cassian let it fly over his head, knowing exactly who it was aimed for. A low snarl came from the corner of the room, and Azriel strode up to stand next to him, forming a wall. Y/n, of course, didn’t look intimidated and no fear came from her - but he did see caution in her eyes. 
“You’re a brat.” The shadowsinger commented, with a tilt of his head. A predator assessing her, waiting for her next move. 
She sent him a vulgar gesture, and apparently Azriel was fed up because quicker than she could react, he had her slung over his shoulder, stalking out her door with a shield covering his wings. 
Smart, he thought as he followed, he didn’t doubt y/n would use that to her advantage. She’s done it before, raking her nails up his wings and nearly getting herself killed. 
He deposited her at the table, shoving her down into the seat next to him before pushing it in. Cassian took up vigil on her other side. If he thought she was angry before, she was absolutely fuming now - sending both him and Azriel a look that promised a slow, slow death. He rolled his eyes, he’d been on the receiving ends of that look frequently, and it didn’t phase him. 
“I thought it was over your shoulder.” Rhys’s voice flooded into his mind. 
“Azriel took care of it.” 
“Obviously. Did she throw anything at you?” 
“Yes.” A strained chuckle came from Rhys, and he felt his presence leave. 
She sat there, taking small sips of water and avoiding eye contact from anyone. 
Cassian let out a low groan before filling her plate with food. 
Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance, their eyes glazing over slightly. “We have things to take care of,” Mor gave an awkward excuse and they both rose. Leaving them to the wolves, then. Wolf - actually. 
“Don’t make me feed you like a child.” Azriel told her when the two were out of earshot. 
“You wouldn’t,” y/n countered, but didn’t sound confident. Azriel reached for her fork, and she snatched it away from him, spearing a piece of food instead and slowly raising it to her mouth. 
“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Cassian asked her. 
She ignored the question, choosing to eat small bites of food instead. 
“Or I can go find out for myself,” Azriel offered. 
“No,” she said too quickly. “Don’t.” 
-
She was confident Azriel would go find out what happened, and that’s not what she wanted. Regardless of whether he heard it from her or figured it out himself, it wouldn’t go over well. But, if they were here when they did learn there’s a better chance of her de-escalating the situation. 
“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Her hand shook, palms going clammy. She saw them exchange a worried look out of her peripherals and for some reason it incensed her further. She’d had enough of people worrying. Well, she fully knew she’d been acting like a ‘brat’ as Az would say for the last few days. But, in her defense they were all busy-bodies who couldn’t mind their own damn business. 
“When will you be?” Cassian sounded … gentle, almost. Like she was some breakable doll. She firmly placed a lid down on her anger, shoving it away. 
“I’ll let you know.” 
“You have until tomorrow night.” Azriel cut in. With a low and obnoxious groan, she slumped in her seat. “Finish your food,” he directed. A particularly nasty look was shot his way, but she relented. 
There’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d make her eat if she refused. The two of them were overbearing and annoying, but meant well. Y/n knew Rhys had sent them in, considering his, Mor’s and even Amren’s attempts had all failed. 
“I thought you’d be happier to see us,” Cassian teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “It’s been two weeks.” 
“I am happy to see you,” she mumbled. It’s the truth, she was glad to see him, and if she’d actually known they were back she probably would’ve left to at least check they’re in one piece. 
As soon as she’d cleared her plate, Cassian looped his arm in between hers - not giving her a chance to go anywhere. “We’re training.” 
“I just ate.” She protested, but it didn’t work. Azriel trailed them outside, hopefully to make sure Cassian didn’t end up working her to the point she threw up. 
-
She realized the mistake exactly as it happened, both arms raising for a block - and her shirt lifting as well. Revealing two yellowing hand print shaped bruises on her waist. She forced her expression to remain still, to not react, and hoped they hadn’t noticed. But, Cassian stilled. Eyes focused on where her shirt now covered her stomach. Y/n could’ve taken the opportunity to strike him, but didn’t. 
“Where are those from?” He asked her, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even. They’d caught Azriel’s attention as well, from where he was standing a few paces away from the ring. Based on the predatory look of rage in his eyes, he’d seen everything. 
“None of -”
“Don’t.” The general cut in shortly. 
“It’s fine.” She insisted, going on the defensive. 
“Is that … part of what has you upset?” His throat bobbed, and she could tell he was trying very hard to keep himself calm. Y/n turned and ducked out of the ring, returning her sword to the rack. There was no use in lying to them, they both always knew when she was. And when she badgered them for her tells, they refused. So, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to deal with the fall out. 
“Yes. I took care of it already.” Her voice shook with each word. 
“What happened?” Azriel asked mildly. 
She pinched the bridge of her nose, and tilted her head back to look at the sky. She couldn’t look at them now, and didn't want to. Didn’t want the two of them to see her break down. Instead, she focused on the stars above her as the story spilled out. One of her friends' brothers had cornered her. She was in her early-twenties, and had never been interested in anyone. Not in that way. When the … opportunity came up she went along with it for a minute - even flirted harmlessly with him, but when he pressed and tried to push her for more, tried to get her to kiss him, and when he refused … 
“That’s when,” she waved her hand down her stomach, “that happened. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t,” she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as the story kept spilling out, of how he grabbed her breast, tried to stick his hand between her legs. 
“And he called me a frigid bitch after I kneed him in the balls.” She finished weakly, forcing a laugh. The two of them had gone incredibly still, and she felt the tears drip from her cheeks onto her shirt. “I took care of it.” She insisted. 
The ‘taking care of it’ worked for a day. Until he came back, thinking she was just playing with him - that she liked the ‘playing hard to get.’ The worst was her friend justifying it, when she brought it up to her. 
“Well,” she hesitated, biting on her bottom lip. “You did flirt with him, how’s he supposed to know?” 
“I told him to stop.” Y/n insisted.
“Just try telling him again.” She sighed. “I don’t want to get in a fight with him.” She told him, again, over the next three days. 
“There’s more.” Azriel said. Gods, he always knew - even if she was just omitting something. “All of it. I need to hear all of it.” 
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She yelled, the anger she’d kept a firm lid on spilling out as tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to think about it, I want it to be over.” 
Cassian strode towards her, wrapping her in his arms and bringing her close to his chest, rubbing her back and holding her through her sobs. Cool shadows swirled around her neck and shoulders, and she recognized Azriel’s way of comforting her. 
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, face still pressed into his chest. 
“None of that,” he replied, running a hand through her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 
She snorted, pushing back against him. “You’re growing soft.” 
“Just for you,” he grinned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 
Y/n yelped as she was gently tugged away from him, instead bundled into Azriel’s arms, his fingers running through her hair and shadows still curling around her. Probably reporting her expressions even as he couldn’t see her face. “Can you tell me now?” 
She exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t get out of this, so she might as well tell him. “He just didn’t know how to take the hint. He thought I was playing with him.” Azriel tensed underneath her, and she scented the pure rage coming from both of the Illyrians and knew if she didn’t say anything else someone in the Autumn court would find their immortal life cut short. “I told him if he didn’t stop I would stab him.” 
“Good girl.” He murmured, but didn’t release her - instead holding her tight as if she might disappear at any moment. 
“Don’t -,” she took in a breath, “don’t tell anyone else.” She pushed back, tilting her head to see his expression. He looked troubled by it and glancing over to Cassian told her he’s feeling the same way. “Please.” 
They looked at each other, as if they were communicating something silently, and nerves hit her - crawling under her skin and swirling in her stomach. She took another step back, forcing Azriel’s arms to hang back by his sides. 
“We’ll make a deal, with a few conditions.” Cassian said, and strode closer to her, standing next to Azriel to make a wall formed of pure arrogance. She groaned internally. “If you don’t agree. We’ll tell him.” 
She crossed her arms, pressing her lips together. “What are they?” 
“Firstly, they’re non negotiable.” He waited for her nod before continuing. “You don’t visit them again. If you want to see her, she comes here.” 
“I’d have to go through Rhys for that.” He gave her a look, as if to say - “that’s your problem,” and she rolled her eyes. 
“Second. No more hiding.” 
“I wasn’t -” 
“Yes you were.” Azriel cut in, raising an eyebrow at her glare. “Rhys told us.” 
“He needs to learn to mind his business.” She muttered and Cassian snorted. 
“If he didn’t tell us, we would’ve figured it out. You don’t miss meals.” 
“I could have just wanted to eat in private.” 
“For three days in a row?” He crossed his arms. 
“Mind your damn business.” 
“Enough.” Azriel cut off the quickly budding argument between the two of them. He’s always been the mediator between the two of them - both ‘blessed’ with quick tempers. 
She wheeled on him instead. “And you have to promise not to tell him.” She needed to be very clear on that, otherwise he would take the loophole and exploit it. He looked conflicted, but ended up promising - unless it somehow escalates, but considering she’ll never see him again - she doubts it will.
“Is that everything?” 
“One more. Anyone does that to you again, you tell us.” 
“As long as you don’t tell anyone else without my permission permission.” They exchanged another look, and both nodded. She stared at them for a few seconds. “It’s a bargain.” 
She fought her smile as she was on the receiving end of twin glares. Apparently they hadn’t intended for it to go that far, but now she knew their word was good. 
“Brat.” Cassian muttered, but started searching for the tattoo. 
She shoved up her sleeves. Nothing on her arms. But, felt a tiny prick on chest, and strode towards the mirror, adjusting her shirt to see. Some kind of constellation was etched into her skin, spreading across her collarbones in a pattern she didn’t recognize. Azriel and Cassian had matching ones - it took them a minute to figure it out, especially with their leathers in the way, but small dots were interwoven with the tattoos already lining their chests. 
“It’s … feminine.” Cassian commented. 
“Nothing wrong with that,” she raised a brow at him. 
“Nothing wrong with it.” He quickly agreed. 
“I think they’re pretty,” she teased, poking his chest. 
-
“Did you figure it out?” Rhys asked later as the three of them met in his office. 
Cassian’s hand ran down his face. “We did.” 
“And what is it?” 
“We can’t tell you.” Azriel replied through gritted teeth. 
Rhys paused for a moment, before raising his brows. “You let her trick you into a bargain? I thought you would’ve known better.” Both of them bristled. Ever since y/n figured out what a bargain was, she managed to word things carefully enough they’d get wrapped into them. Rhys still remembers the first time he met her, back when she was a youngling and before they managed to get her out of the Court of Nightmares. 
“Mor said you could fly,” she whispered - low enough nobody else could hear. She looked up and saw the hesitant look on his face. “I can keep a secret.” She grinned. He gave her a quick nod. 
He saw her again, a year later - now seven years old. “Could you take me flying?” He gave a subtle shake of his head, but every time she saw him she would ask, and eventually he caved. 
“I’ll make a deal with you, you stop asking - and I’ll take you flying” 
“It’s a bargain.” She whispered, and Rhys winced as a small band appeared around his upper arm, a matching one on her. That’s not supposed to happen … she shouldn’t be able to make those without both parties expliciting saying it. 
They snuck her out the next day and took her, if only to keep anyone else from noticing the thin tattoo around her upper arm. He still remembered Mor half-heartedly lecturing her about the danger of making bargains - and not to go doing it with strangers. 
Another idea popped into his head. “Did she say you can’t show me?” 
Cassian winced. “I don’t-,” he turned to give Azriel a sharp look, “we don’t want to betray her trust. But it’s taken care of.” 
Rhys nodded. He’d have to wiggle it out of her himself then, even if that’s nearly impossible. Besides, if the two of them break her trust like that, and she finds out … that would be a fight he doesn’t want to be anywhere near. 
-
Mor promised to get her out of Hewn City, whenever she needed to. Y/n was eighteen when she left, when she moved to Velaris, met Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and started making friends in the city. She should’ve known any ‘friends’ she met living there … Y/n cut off that line of thinking, reminding herself it’s not her fault, in any way. But, her mind still swirls with all of the ways she possibly could have prevented it, or the different things she could have done. For gods sake, she’s told others countless times that it’s not their fault, and they’re in no way responsible for others actions, but she still gets caught in that spider web, in the dangerous abyss of her own thoughts caving in on her. 
“Where’d you go?” Rhys interrupts her and she blinks heavily. 
“Here and there.” She mutters, pushing some food around on her plate. 
“Anything you want to talk about?” Him and Mor have stopped questioning her as frequently, but still try to put subtle feelers out to see if she will respond, or open up to them. 
The words blurt out before she can think twice about them. “Can I speak with the priestesses again?” 
His entire body tenses, his shoulders tightening and eyes darkening. She’d just given him a very clear idea of what happened while she was away.
-
The priestesses. He can only think of a few reasons why she’d want to speak with them. It could be related to her past, but more likely to some recent events. Barely, he manages to keep his composure. 
“I’ll ask them.” His voice is short and he watches her worry her bottom lip. 
“Please don’t do-” 
“Anything rash?” He raises a brow, forcing a cool and neutral tone. 
“I took care of it.” She insisted. Similar to what Azriel and Cassian said. 
“Will you ever tell me? Or Mor? She’s worried sick.” Rhys knew it was a low blow, even as he said it. 
“I’m tired of … I’m tired of talking about it.” 
He wondered why she’d want to go to the priestesses, why she’d want to speak with them if she’s already sick of talking. But then again, he’s heard that sometimes they go into their offices just to cry or scream. Either way, he’s not going to deny her the chance, or that request. He knows without a doubt that they’ll agree to see her. They all love her there, and she spends a lot of her time studying in the archives. Technically that’s her official position in his court - to research, her mind is her greatest weapon. 
“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” 
“I wanted to make you feel useful.” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to flick her nose. She dodged it, swatting his hand away. “But if you’re going to complain I can ask them myself.’”
“Asking who?” Mor swept into the room, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. Rhys took that as his cue to leave, before he got caught into anything between the two sisters. 
-
Y/n mouthed ‘traitor’ at Rhys’s retreating figure, when Mor wasn’t looking. 
“I’m going to ask if I can speak with the priestesses again.” 
“Oh.” She paused, before sitting down on the couch next to her, stretching her legs out in front. “Anyone in particular?” 
She exhaled in relief, something Mor noticed but didn’t comment on. 
“Not Merrill.” Y/n muttered, drawing a laugh out of Mor. 
“Merrill has a good heart.” 
“I deal with her enough already.” Y/n groaned, leaning her head back on the cushion. 
“How is that going?” Mor switched subjects, navigating to safer areas. If she pushed too much on this topic … y/n might shut down again. 
“Slowly. Traveling between worlds, Rhys is obsessed with it and translating some of the old texts takes hours.” 
“Is he now?” She turned, interested, and gave her a small smile. 
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” 
“I won’t snitch.” 
“I won’t either.” She snipped back, but a small smile was on her face, and some mirth dancing in her eyes. She could’ve cried from relief - even if she has other things to think about now, about how she has a very clear idea of what happened. Part of her wants to lecture her sister about bargains, again. 
-
Y/n was forced to stop hiding, the tattoo pricking into her skin every time it thought she was being a bit too reclusive. Still, she wondered if it really was a fair bargain - their silence in return for; not visiting her again, not hiding, and telling them if anyone does that again. She supposes that could mean several things, and they never specified a specific timeframe on when she would have to tell them. In her desperation for them to keep her confidence, she’d done something foolish and doubted they would let her out of that anytime soon. If ever. 
The two of them can be just as tricky as she is, and just as likely to find loopholes. At least they wouldn’t use it against her with the intention to cause harm. She’d never make one of those with someone she doesn’t trust. Even if the wording is iron-clad, there’s always room for error. Most of the ‘bargains’ she’s made are always light-hearted. 
Like making Rhys take her to fly, even if it was the shortest gods-damned flight of her life. Two minutes, if that - and under the cover of dark, after him and Mor snuck her out of Hewn City. Her very first taste of freedom. She was always kept away whenever the Inner Circle visited. Still, she managed to sneak away from the guards, learning how to create diversions and somehow give the impression she was still sleeping in her rooms, enchanting her toys to keep moving, or a pen to keep writing, a book to keep flipping its pages. They never caught her either. She wasn’t even born when Mor left. In fact, she wasn’t born until after Rhys took up his throne. Born into a ‘cleaned-out’ Hewn City, and grateful for it - she doesn’t want to know what it was like before. 
Not many children were around, anyway. The friends she did make were the ones her parents encouraged her to, from foreign courts for the most part. People she’s unlikely to ever visit again. Technically, she could leave of her own accord - but that would mean whoever she’s visiting is going to have someone knocking on their door to drag her away. 
A knock sounded on the door as she slumped back against her pillow, and she could sense Azriel was out there. 
“Come in,” she called. There’s a fifty-fifty chance he’d enter anyway. 
The door swung open, revealing him leaning against her doorway. “I heard you went to speak with the priestesses.” 
Cutting right to the chase, then. “I speak with them every day. It’s part of my job description.” 
His eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”
She groaned, pushing herself up to sit. “You don’t need to haunt the doorway, you can come in.” 
“Last time I did, I recall a book launched my way.” 
She held up both hands, showing there were no projectiles in reach. He still looked cautious as he entered, and took up a seat in one of the armchairs, right by her favorite window. She swung her legs over so she sat on the edge of her bed, propping her forearms on her thighs. 
-
Azriel couldn’t help as his eyes shifted down ever so slightly to where her nightdress slipped down, showing the tops of the curves of her breasts. His gaze switched back up as quickly as possible, and somehow y/n didn’t catch the action - instead looking out towards the window. Good, the last thing he needs is to start ogling her, to give her the impression he’s coming onto her. There was something else he could do. He’d need to speak with Cassian. 
“I’m proud of you,” he offered instead. Her head snapped, back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and he fought the urge to shift under her gaze. 
“Thank you,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a soft smile. A shadow curled around his ear, happy, happy, happy. It sang. 
“What do they tell you?” She tilted her head, eyeing it. 
“That you’re happy,” he said honestly. 
She blinked twice, lips curving into an easy smile. “I suppose I am,” she finally answered. 
“You should get some sleep.” He’d noticed the bags under her eyes, how she still seemed exhausted and worn down throughout the day. Azriel had told Cassian he needed to stop dragging her outside and beating her into the ground every day. He’s aware healing is different for each person, but it had been a month since she returned, and his worry only grew. 
“That’s rude.” She frowned, but glanced at the mirror across from her bed. Interesting placement. “I do look like shit.” 
He snorted. “You look tired, there’s a difference.” 
“Sleep hasn’t … been easy.” He could tell it cost her something to admit that. Stubborn pride, just like her sister and cousin. And the rest of them, he supposed. 
“Nightmares?” He prompted, and she nodded. He wouldn’t pry further, but made a mental note to send a shadow in later, to keep watch on her. Maybe it was an invasion of her privacy, but he didn’t particularly care. “I’m right down the hall,” he jerked his chin towards the door. 
“I’m aware.” Another shadow curled around his ear, stay, stay, stay. “Is it too nosy if I ask about that one?” She teased. 
“Maybe.” 
She held her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “I suppose it’s your job to keep secrets.” 
“I recall someone making a terrible bargain to keep something secret.” 
Her face dropped, and he got the impression he said the wrong damn thing. “They’ve already figured it out.” She mumbled, eyes avoiding him. He hated that, hated when she wouldn’t look at him. 
“That’s not a terrible thing.” He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck. He’s never been great at comforting, usually Cassian’s the one to do these kinds of things. Still, he found himself walking across the room, taking a seat next to her. On instinct, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. 
She froze, went still for a brief moment, and he was about to move away when she leaned into him, her body relaxing. A few of his shadows swirled around her neck, and she hummed in content. 
Another one curled around his ear, happy, stay. Maybe, for a minute or two. 
-
Cassian went looking for Azriel, he wasn’t in his room - or downstairs or anywhere to be found, and tracked his scent off to y/n’s room, of all places. The door was already parted, and he nudged it open with his foot. Y/n was curled into his side, sound asleep in an awfully uncomfortable position. How tired did she have to be to sleep like that? Almost sitting up. 
Azriel turned his head to look at him, his expression almost saying ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He held a fist up to his face, fighting back a laugh, and ignoring his glare. He stalked over towards the duo, ignoring Az’s glare as he shook y/n’s shoulder. 
“Stop holding him hostage.” He watched as her eyes opened, half lidded with sleep. 
“Sorry,” she mumbled, hand coming up to hide a yawn. 
Azriel moved his arm away, even if he seemed reluctant to do so, and he pushed back her shoulders so she’d actually lay down. “I don’t want to hear any complaints if your back hurts tomorrow.” 
“Fuck off.” She yanked the blankets back over her, burrowing down into the pillows. It took barely a minute before she was sound asleep again, her breaths evening out, mouth slightly parted in sleep. Peaceful, she looked so peaceful, even with the bags still lining her eyes like horrible bruises. 
Azriel tapped his shoulder, and he realized he’d been staring for a while. They quietly left, gently shutting the door closed behind them. 
“You’ve gone soft.” He told the other male after they were out of earshot. 
“I was just … comforting her, and she fell asleep.”
“Must be really tired, then.” 
“She said she’s having nightmares.” 
Mother above, Cassian wanted to storm the autumn court and bring her back that asshole’s head as a gift. In fact, he’d been debating it for the last few days - but, if anything it would distress her further. Y/n’s never been a violent person, in contrast to the rest of the inner circle. A good contrast. She thought he’d been training her more just to keep her from ‘hiding,’ but his mind was swirling with what else could’ve gone wrong, and if she would have been able to defend herself. Or why she threw herself in whole heartedly, pushing herself harder than ever. 
“She’s been more ...” Cassian pressed his lips into a tightline, glancing behind him to make sure y/n wasn’t behind. “Dedicated, training wise.” 
“I know.” Azriel replied quietly. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else they didn’t know.
-
Her tattoo pricked at her as she opened the third letter in the past month. Addressed from her friend, like the last two, but something was different about this one - her name written differently, a small curve to the letters. 
Her eyes scanned the page, picking out the key phrases. 
I miss the fun we had. I know how much you enjoyed yourself. 
You must, should visit at your earliest convenience. 
There was only a general threatening atmosphere to the words - nothing outwardly against her safety. Only him … reminiscing on the past events, in uncomfortable detail. Harmless, she decided, even if her subconscious screamed against her. No pain ripped through her magic, also some guilt crept into her at the feeling - she was hiding it, using a loophole to get out of the agreement, not honoring the spirit of it. 
With a low exhale, she justified it to herself, no need to worry the two of them - they were busy enough as is. Besides, she couldn’t trust them to keep their cool. The guilt would multiply if she knew violence was brought to her friend's doorway. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and crumpled the paper - shoving it in a drawer and reminding herself to burn it later. It was dark, the sun already dipped below the horizon - only vague rays of pink and purple peeking up past the horizon. Her stomach grumbled, loud enough she snorted. That’s a clear signal she needs to grab something to eat. 
She slipped out her door, closing it behind her with a gentle snick. She kept her footsteps as silent as she could as she trailed down the hallway, but she heard … moans - and groans coming from Azriel’s room. Did he have someone over? A small tinge of hurt filled her - not that he was hers, or she had any claim to him. Or Cassian. Why had her mind gone to both of them? “Ridiculous,” she quietly chided herself. She could manage to walk by the room, keep her eyes set right ahead - no need to look at the door or pause, she wouldn’t be nosy. 
Her feet moved quickly, and she spotted the cracked open door in her peripheral, cursing him. Eyes forward, right ahead. No need to look. 
But, she made the mistake of looking at the window, figuring it would be harmless. 
Her mouth parted in shock as she saw Cassian, pressed back against Azriel who had one arm wrapped around his front - palming him through the leather pants. They were both shirtless, muscles toned and gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. Azriel’s other hand was fisted in the General’s hair, their lips crashing together in a violent and passionate kiss. 
She hadn’t realized she was staring, arousal starting to creep into her, until a shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and his head snapped towards her. Cassian quickly followed, and she let out a small yelp - going bug eyed and taking off down the hall. She was not supposed to see that. Not at all … Mother above they need to close the damned door. Arousal flickered through her as she paused at the end of the hall - way out of range, bracing her hand against the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the feeling. She couldn’t want them. They were perfectly unavailable, and together, at least in some sense. 
Did Rhys and Mor know? She wouldn’t be the one to tell them. Her mind flashed with more images;
Azriel panting as Cassian knelt in front of him. Azriel hauling him to his feet - throwing him over the side of the bed … 
“Stop it.” She muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and darting her gaze around the hall. No one to witness, good. She couldn’t remember why she left her room, but she wouldn’t be returning for a while. 
-
It shouldn’t have, but getting caught - and by her, and feeling her arousal from the brief moments she watched them … it spurred him on, sent him deeper into that state of building pleasure. 
She didn’t know they already knew she was there. Azriel  wanted to see how long it took for her to say something, or if they’d have to act first.
“We should invite her back.” Cassian said, bruised lips frowning. 
“Do you want to scare her off?” Azriel asked incredulously. They had actual albeit vague plans for this. To  come in stages, how to trigger various emotions in her. 
“No.” He muttered, entwining his hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck.
“Good boy” Azriel teased and his friend grunted, throwing a half-hearted punch his way. Cassian stiffened under his hand. “You like that?” His teeth nipped at his neck as his hand slipped under his waistband. 
“Do we talk to her about it?” Cassian asked, an hour later - hair messed, cheeks flushed, one hand braced on the doorframe. 
Az propped himself up from where he was still laying in bed. “Let her dream about it.” 
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astrologydayz · 3 months
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ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES4
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If you're into past lives with other people = go 2 both of your "Desc. Lunar Node persona charts", &save them to make a synastry chart! It tells/shows u about your past life together - IF u had one, ofc - what occurred between u/what u guys went through/what u were 2each other, if u "owe"/or is "owed" something, then what & why, how u felt about each other, etc. it gives u WAAAY more details about your past life together, than a normal synastry chart does. 
GO SEE If there's a name asteroid with your child's name = go look at that name persona chart, &I promise you that you will be amazed. Nothing is ever accidental baby.
Look at your Eros persona chart2 see what your sexual desires/fantasies exactly are - in details/how forward - or not, you are when it comes to your desires, sex/sexual things in general. It also shows u how you express your "sexual side"/what kind of people you're sexually attracted2/turn ons in details. 
Your Fama persona chart - 408 tells u about what other people gossip/talk about, when it comes2 u - also rumours/what u gossip about 2 others/if you're famous - then4what
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I'M TALKING ABOUT ROMANTIC/SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS👇🏽 A SYNASTRY CHART tells u how u how u guys "respond" 2 one another! Like what u think about each other, how u feel about each other, how u communicate, what u desire/love about each other, family influences/outside influences, what "differences" u have, what "issues"/challenges u have with each other etc.🏃💜 A COMPOSITE CHART literally shows us how u guys relationship dynamic is, how u communicate as a couple/show love, your sexual dynamic, "challenges as a couple", how "content" you guys are in your relationship basically&your "reputation together"/outside influences etc. It also shows what your relationship's "endgame" is ⛓❤️🔥.
A DAVISON CHART gives us a different perspective on your relationship& shows opportunities along the way4u guys as a couple, that a composite chart won't show🫵🫶. This chart chart also gives us an exact time&date + retrograde planets that isn't shown in your composite chart = provides us with "new insight" on the relationship! TAKE NOTE OF THAT DATE BTW💋.
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People with Saturn conjunct/trine Amor asteroid - 1221 usually only fuck with long ass relationships - not so much one nightstands. They want that stable&secure love - they don't fuck around just 2 fuck around. They're also in love with themselves, most of the time - in a good way!!! They're confident, &secure in who they are/in what they seek. They also know what they bring 2the table in a connection, so if somebody doesn't find it enough/or doesn't appreciate it?? They're out.
Someone with Amor asteroid - 1221 conjunct their 2nd house = quality, quality, quality. Quality is really the number 1 thing they always seek/want in life. They would rather not buy/have/eat anything than buy/have/eat something that's not good enough quality.
Venus conjunct/trine/quintile Mars people are typically the ones everyone almost always finds attractive - they fit the usual "pretty boy/pretty girl standards".
Venus conjunct/square/quincunx Pluto can get stalked/harassed pretty often by their love interests/old love interests, or by people they don't even really "notice". Sun conjunct 11th house can show up as having many male friends, or many male followers/fans in rl/online.
Venus conjunct/square/quincunx Uranus are the ones seeing somebody online, &be infatuated/"in love" after seeing one pic/video. They fall in love pretty fast in rl2, but typically ends up getting the ick real quick - when the other one goes all in, at last. They can change their minds pretty often when it comes to love/love interests, as they really don't wanna end up "missing something". Can be seen as "flighty"/non committal.
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Mera asteroid - 3553 "Purity being taken, or purity given away" - can show cheating in a synastry chart - "Mera" person is the one breaking the bond by being unfaithful - "purity given away", probably "shouldn't have done it". "Mera" can also show up as "corruption" - the other person taking the "Mera" person's "purity" away.
Galatea asteroid - 74 in synastry can show love triangles. It's really no joke. The "Galatea" person is the one bringing the 3rd party, &the drama in.
Moon conjunct/opposite Sado asteroid - 118230 in synastry shows up as Sado person getting a kick out of humiliating/embarrassing Moon - In private, &in public, doesn't matter. In short words, Sado is SADISTIC AF towards Moon - making fun of their emotions - making fun of them crying/making them cry/hurt on purpose, them "playing games" with Moon person's emotions, Sado degrades, &taunts Moon. Moon feels very belittled, small, & very non existing here. The opposition will cause Moon 2 talk back sometimes/not take it as often as the conjunction would. The opposition can also show that it happens in periods, like it's on & off with Sado being a dick towards moon - where the conjunction will cause Sado2always be like that.
Isolda asteroid - 211 can also show up as cheating - Isolda typically shows up in a synastry chart between the cheater, & the 3rd party. "Love at 1st sight", "loyalty forgotten", "new love", "off the charts infatuation".
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THANKS4READING LOVE
I APPRECIATE U💋
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dmitriene · 1 month
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cw: mentions of groping and attempts at harassment, reader stays her ground, simon falls in love and kind of a horny mutt, smut is not the main curse.
simon keeps his distance from relationships, he has enough problems of his own, he rarely stays in one place because of deployments, and very often risks his life.
until simon observes a situation in a bar that turns his world upside down, making him feel a prickly warmth in his lower stomach and a whirlwind of thoughts consisting only of the same words
— “she's gonna be mine„
it was so easy, you only had to go to the bar for the first time in a long time to unwind, only to get caught by an annoying, nasty guy who didn't want to stop trying to touch you and whisper nasty compliments to you like — “your tits looks so good in this shirt„ “wanna get out of here with me?„ “don't play hard to get„
until it all turned into screams and pig squeals, as soon as you poured the drink from your hands on his gross self, ruining not only his clothes, leaving them sticky, but also his image, attracting the attention of almost all the customers and also the bartender, a clever one who immediately called for help to get the man out before he did anything worse, not to mention his squeals about — “fucking bitch! that how you react to some attention?!„
it's really easy, responding with rudeness to rudeness and not tolerating humiliation just for the sake of saving face, not even yours, in public, instead keeping your nerve and addressing rude people in their own language, before wiping your hands with a napkin and going back to relaxing by ordering another drink.
and simon is not at all ashamed to admit to himself that the whole performance, carefully followed by his thawed chocolate eyes, not only made him aroused, which caused him to fidget in the seat, spreading his legs wider and squeezing the prominent bulge in his pants, tenting against the fabric of the black jeans —
but also allowed him to imagine how it would have been in different circumstances, yelling at him about completely different things — while being on top of him, riding his fat cock with rough rolls of your round hips and loud slaps of your plush ass against his relaxed, muscular thighs, the warm, gummy walls of your cunny clench around his meaty cock so good, making him go delirious with just one imagination how hot you would sound with his name and orders slipping past your soft, bitten from his hungry mouth, lips — “h — haa, yesyesyes, simon! stay just like that, s' good!„
it's all enough to make simon break out of his habitual image in which he tries to keep a low profile, he calls the waiter to ask him to extend your drink at his expense, and it's really more than enough for simon, because you don't hesitate to find his gaze among the numerous tables when you're told that another cocktail you didn't ask for is a compliment from another customer, and simon doesn't hide his communion either.
he catches your gaze back, feeling a thrilling shiver in his body, and raises his glass of bourbon to the thin line of pale lips that spread into a smile of their own, accord when he sees your biased squint, but even though his slightly intimidating balaclava and broad physique, you nod, thankfully, your lips moving in silent gratitude — “thank's, sir„
that was his green flag, to sit in the bar until you were about to leave, leaving the room and his line of sight, slipping out if only for a moment, because simon couldn't let you go home alone after all that, coming out after you and as gently as possible touching your shoulder to make you turn, your gaze falling onto his warm eyes before processing the hoarse words he said
— “le' me wolk you home, hm? nothing more, jus' a safe wolk, lovie?„
and will you refuse? after all, no matter how hard you try to think otherwise, something in his whole form inspires of unexpected safety, so maybe he's the one who will be your normal company tonight.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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princessbrunette · 1 month
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omggg i adore kitty!reader so much shes so !! me !!! how do u think jayj would put her in her place … i feel like whenever shes having her mini tantrums people get equally as frustrated bc she gets feisty but jj has like .. magic on him or something 💭
"⭒˚。⋆🍡⋆⭒˚。"
you’d been in a bad mood since coming home from work. bartending wasn’t for the weak, especially when the locals constantly harassed you and berated your drink pouring skills — which was mostly put down to being a woman. by the time you get back to jj’s empty house, the blonde sat on his messy porch with a bottle of beer when you got back — you had quite the attitude.
“if it ain’t my favourite bartender. how’s m’girl, come over here.” he opens his arms and you storm right past making his brows shoot up, lips pressed together as he adjusts his cap. “alrighty, guess someone’s in a mood.” he pushes up onto his feet, swaggering in through the open door.
“‘somethin’ happen? what’s up?” he calls after you, spotting you in the kitchen angrily opening and closing cupboard doors as you try to make yourself something to eat.
“where is my plate?” you demand, clearly frustrated. he blinks, thinking back to your special plate that you always ate off. some cutesy antique thing you found at a yard sale, a beloved item of yours. he silently winces, eyeing it sat in the sink, soaking in bubbles.
“yeah uh, so basically i ate my lunch off it ‘cus i forgot to do the dishes, uh — again. that’s my bad. i got paper plates you can use? great thing about those is that when you’re done with ‘em you don’t gotta wash ‘em. you just throw ‘em away. makes me wonder why we even buy regular plates in the first pl—”
“no i don’t want a paper plate jj j want my plate! i just want to eat my food and— and you’re here just— just—” you explode, still refusing to offer him even a glance as you continue hunting for something to eat your leftovers off.
“hey, hey— put them claws away kittycat. no need for that. c’mon pretty girl where’s that smile?”
you spin around, fists balled at your side, tears of anger in your eyes.
“dont tell me to smile! go away!” you yell before turning away with a loud huff. jj drops his head down, tongue in his cheek as he nods, thinking for a moment before approaching slowly.
“easy, alright? you’re not gonna take that tone with me, mama i’m on your side.” as he speaks, you feel the warmth of his front press to your back, an arm cautiously sliding around your waist to keep you stable. his other arm snakes around your neck, pulling you into a light headlock, just enough pressure to ground you. he lowers his head to talk into your ear as you stare directly at the cabinet, already melting a little against him. “you wanna talk ‘bout your day? y’already know i’m all ears baby. but you gotta watch that attitude, yeah? you’re home now, i’m here. just… dial it back.”
there’s some silence, and you nod — releasing a shaky breath as you feel some of the grossness from your day leave your body. “uh-huh, that’s all you needed wasn’t it babydoll? needed to be told. that’s okay, i get it.” he kisses your temple before removing his arm from your neck, using both hands to squeeze your waist and turn you around.
the gaze he receives from you is nothing short of guilty, doll-like eyes blinking up at him slowly as you take deep breaths. “now what you’re gonna do, is sit that cute lil ass down and let me fix you up a plate. you’re gonna eat that shit, then, you’re gonna talk to me about your day,” he walks you backwards until your legs hit the chair at the table and you drop down to sit in it. he leans forward, hands cupping your cheeks. “and after that, oh i’mma fuck the shit out of you. like, you’re not even gonna remember what day of the week it is— let alone what shitty customers ran their mouth at you today. that sound good?”
“yes, jj.” you respond, pupils pretty much taking up your whole eye like an entertained kitten.
“thats what i like to hear, ma’am. alright, wait there. i got you.”
"⭒˚。⋆🍡⋆⭒˚。"
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mine to protect ⋆*·゚misa rodriguez x reader
the night you thought would be a lighthearted, fun time with some of misa's friends, ends with a different kind of bang you had originally anticipated. but when things go awry, you can always expect your girlfriend to be there.
(or; the mentioned club incident from mine to save)
tw: intimidation and harassment by a drunken fool. dw, sweet ending.
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It was meant to be nothing more than a fun night out with friends now that most of them were in the area. It had been a spontaneous text by Jenni that had spurred the entire thing. The group had never been that good at planning things far in advance, with schedules changing and always full, but it seemed that most girls had at least a few hours to spare this Saturday night. And, well, while Misa’d had the day off entirely, she’d also mentally written your name in all caps in her agenda for this weekend as soon as she heard you’d be coming to see her. She hadn’t even realised the group chat had exploded until grabbing her phone to snap a picture of the two of you all cuddled up, something to add to her folder with pictures to cheer her up whenever you two were apart. It took her quite some scrolling to catch up, and when she saw the text that had initiated it all, she caught herself feeling a little indifferent. On one hand, she would love nothing more than to spend some time with her friends. On the other, she’d see most of them again soon during national camp. Plus, there was never enough time to spend with you. Sure, there were quick days in between matches you’d play near the other, but entire days spent together without worrying about the time were scarce. It was exactly why she’d been able to lose track of time for as long as she had, having you wrapped against her in her arms was far too valuable to her. You squirmed against her front, having lost your comfortable position as soon as Misa had shifted to reach for her phone. 
With the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, Misa had turned her apartment into a cozy little bubble after the dinner you had made together. It was as if you were the only two people on earth. But that wasn’t a foreign feeling whenever Misa was around. Quite the contrary— you often suffered from severe tunnel vision whenever she was near. Even when she wasn’t in your direct line of sight, your heart would still quicken and there’d be an extra pep in your step and a shine to your eyes. Like a fool in love, you would perk up whenever she walked in, sought your eyes and sent you the most heartwarming grin. That grin of hers, whether the cheeky one or the adorable kind, had been one of the things that had instantly given her some of your heart. The two of you hadn’t even been properly introduced yet, she’d only acknowledged your presence for the time being with that damned grin, and you had felt your pulse quicken and your cheeks flush nonetheless. And then the nerves! She’d made you feel so nervous and giddy like some silly school girl whose crush finally decided to look her way. You’d felt pathetic when thinking about the encounter for the longest time until Misa had admitted to you that she’d put off introducing herself to you that day for so long, simply because she had been too nervous herself. It left you feeling a little alienated, knowing that you had been the one to leave your usual self-assured girlfriend feeling so insecure. Then you felt a little smug because of the exact same reason. Only you could make Misa feel that way, and that knowledge left you feeling euphoric.
A whine escaped your mouth as your back softly slid from Misa’s front to the back of the couch, watching as your girlfriend leaned sideways to type away on her phone that was still plugged in to charge. 
Misa side-eyed you, and although she tried to hide it, you saw the tiny smirk wanting to pull at the corners of her lips. She quickly bit her lip before she could be caught red-handed, planted a kiss on your temple and pulled you against her again. Her fingers absentmindedly snaked underneath the sweatshirt you were wearing, one of hers, and softly brushed the skin of your waist. She typed away again.
“I think I like you better with both your hands on my waist.” You mumbled against her neck, feeling her muscles there tighten, signalling she was probably smirking again. Or still. 
“Hm?” Misa quickly locked her phone, “Like so?” She turned to you, the arm around you pulling you back onto her lap, the hand on your waist snaking up your back and her free hand squeezing your thigh. 
“Or more like this?” She looked up at you, eyes full with a type of fire that could only stem from pure love and adoration. Her nose nuzzled against your cheek before she planted some light kisses along your jaw. Your arms went to their designated spot around her neck as she continued to leave feather-like kisses along your skin. You let out a small sigh, bliss and a sense of belonging coursing through you. She softly pulled your face to hers by your chin and pushed you flushed against her before her lips found yours. Slow pecks and open mouthed kisses quickly deepened as your lips pressed against one another’s furiously and full of passion. But as you felt Misa start to play with the hairs in your neck, she also slowly untangled herself from your grip. Frowning, you quickly reared back. 
“This is probably the worst time to tell you that the others are on their way here?” A child-like kind of guilt flashed across her face, and for a second, she couldn’t even look you in the eye. She knew how sacred the time you had together was, how scarce it was, too. Not to mention how much you had looked forward to spend each and every minute together, and make use of it as well.
“What? What do you mean? Who?!”
“Well, Jenni, Patri… Leila. Ale and Olga will be there, too, and all the others… if they have time.”
You rose an eyebrow, studied her face, “…there? Where?!”
 Misa sighed and rubbed her brows, “They want to go out to some club since most of us are in town, but I had my phone off the entire day and only now read that they’re going to pick me up…but-”
“-they don’t know I’m with you?”
She nodded sheepishly, “I just texted them that, but Jenni said that’s even better… that it will be more fun with you around, anyway.”
You whined again and threw your head against her shoulder. She patted your back, “I know. Feeling the same.”
“Text them again. Say we’re out.” 
“I could… if I hadn’t just told them I was not planning on leaving the apartment with you.”
“What’d they say?”
She sent a toothy grin your way, “Apart from hollers and dirty comments?”
“Oh God, I don’t want to know.”
You felt Misa’s hand start to roam beneath your shirt again. Her voice turned to a whisper, “Anyway, we don’t have to open when they knock.” You sidled up to her again, liking how your knees were on either side of her legs, giving you the control to keep her in place. “We’ll just pretend they’re not there so they’ll go, vale?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. 
“I like that idea,” You whispered back.
“Yeah? Think you can do that?” Misa cupped your cheek and tilted her head in challenge. You hummed noncommittally, having only eyes for her and the way she was looking at you, how she softly scratched your back with her cold fingertips and how it sent shivers down your spine already. You were going back in for the kiss when rapid knocking sounded from the hall. The two of you shared a look, before Misa whispered against your lips, “Ready to put your money where your mouth is?”
She kissed you, hard, stopping you from answering her as her hands raked across your body to all the places she knew would work you up.
The knocking commenced, but this time, it was a little harder to ignore,
“Police! Open up!” Jenni’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. You felt Misa pause, but she quickly continued and pulled you closer when Jenni’s muffled voice sounded again, “We received a phone call about a possible house fire. Neighbours said it was getting too hot, so we came by to check.”
You knew that all of Misa’s neighbours on this floor were probably hearing this as well, but when your head slowly turned to face the noise, Misa softly pulled it back to her.
Now you heard another voice, more banging on the door and some laughter, too, “We’re looking for two fugitives who could be inside. Both attached to the hip, can’t keep their hands off one another and are probably the reason behind the fire.”
"Yeah, we really need to get in to blow it out!" 
Misa loudly cursed and dropped her hands, squeezing your waist before sliding you onto the couch with the utmost care before standing up.
“I won’t be long.” She spoke gently, in contrast to the way she grumpily walked to the hallway. “Going to fucking kill them-” She muttered under her breath.
You heard the voices less muffled now. Jenni, Leila and Patri, indeed. But their voices grew louder and you heard the front door close. 
“Some fugitive you are, opening the door to the police.”
“I’d rather have that than have my building know I’m friends with idiots.”
“They already know, Leila and Patri ding-dong-ditched all the numbers downstairs at the intercom, that’s how we got in.”
You quickly made yourself presentable and perched yourself on the edge of the couch.
“There she is!” The trio stood in the living room, grins and smirks on their faces, with a less-than-amused Misa finally trailing behind them, mouthing an apology to you.
“You’ve found me… the arsonist.” You smiled softly, trying to calm the whiplash you felt from having gone from a heated make out with your girlfriend to this clownish trio standing before you. 
Patri looked around, “No flames yet, so looks like we came just in time.”
You saw Misa roll her eyes and mock Patri, who saw you giggle and quickly turned around to face an innocently smiling Misa. Leila walked over and pulled you off the couch, “Go doll up, I'll help you pick something out but we gotta go, we gotta go! No time to waste! You can go and fire up the dance floor later, dale!”
You passed Misa as Leila pushed you down the hall, the defender’s giggles filling the room. They were having way too much fun with this, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh as well when you saw the big grump your girlfriend had become. 
“Don’t kill them,” You mouthed to her before disappearing in the bedroom.
“You too,” Jenni plucked at Misa’s hoodie with disdain, “Come on! You’ve got to show them you’re a power couple.”
“I don’t have to prove anyone anything, let alone that we’re good together.”
Patri rolled her eyes, “Look, we can’t have you slacking in trainers when she’ll be looking like a snack. Or do you want everyone to go up to her, not knowing she’s with you?”
Misa threw her head in her neck and groaned, “First you go and ruin our time and now you’re having me play dress up? Really, woman?”
“You don’t want to spend time with your friends anymore?” Jenni gasped in mock outrage, then laughed, “Come on, you can thank me later when she sees you and can’t keep her eyes off you.”
A huff left Misa’s mouth as she threw herself on the couch, reaching for the remote to stop the show you had been watching so you wouldn’t miss anything. She watched as Patri gave her a look, “What?”
“Y/N’s committed to it, now you have, too.” Patri crossed her arms.
“More like had to surrender herself,” She squinted her eyes at Patri, “But alright, I’ll bite.” She sighed, realising they were not taking no for an answer tonight. “My closet is the first door to your right. You sprung this upon me, so you go and have a look, I can’t be bothered.”
 “Aw, big baby-” Patri stuck her tongue out, receiving the finger from Misa. She plopped down next to her on the couch while Jenni hurried off towards the closet, loving the power she had been given.
“You really love her, no?” Patri teased, to which Misa only rose an eyebrow. “The real deal, yeah? I can see it.”
“Patri-”
“No, listen! I love it! It’s good to see you so happy and in love. A little weird, too.”
“Don’t go all soft on me now.” Misa tried to nudge Patri away, who was giving her air kisses, but her face had softened nonetheless. 
“Hold onto that, don’t let her go.” Patri shrugged matter of factly and pulled the remote out of Misa’s hands, “Just don’t you dare forget about your idiotic friends.”
Misa smiled, genuinely, “Never. To both things.” 
After Jenni had returned with an armful of clothing and threw it at Misa to put on, Leila and you had returned not long after. 
“Yes, that’s what we’re talking about!” Jenni looked at how well you’d cleaned up, returning your smile. She came over, seeming to fix your outfit a bit, only to quietly mutter to you, “Got her to wear the national team blazer I know you love on her.” She winked, then turned to the others. “Let’s go!”
Misa walked up to you, her fingers immediately locking with yours, and you couldn’t help but look her up and down feeling completely mesmerised. She was indeed wearing the black blazer you absolutely loved. Beneath it, she wore an elegant green V-shaped satin top that stopped right beneath her belly-button, looking as soft as the sun-kissed skin beneath. And with a pair of black tailored trousers to match, she looked absolutely ravenous. 
The smirk on her face had grown as she’d watched you take her in.
“Ready to go?” She squeezed your hand, pulling you back to earth, the dangling of her car keys taking you out of your daydream. 
“You’re not driving with us?” Leila asked, seeing the shake of Misa’s head, “Then why did we pick them up?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing ever since you knocked on the door.” Misa muttered softly, playfully, having made peace with their predicament now, “But no, I want to be able to leave when we’ve had enough. I’m not letting you guys trap us again.”
You quickly plucked the keys out of her hand, then out of her reach when she tried to get them back, “Nah-ah, you always drive me everywhere. I want you to be able to have fun tonight. I’m not feeling like drinking anyway. Really, it’s okay.” You quickly added when you saw the look on her face. Misa was having a battle with herself. She hadn’t liked this turn of events, at all. It wasn’t the night she had planned and she knew you hadn’t wanted this either. For you to then sacrifice your night for her, felt wrong. If anything, she would have wanted you to have fun.
“If you’re wondering whether I can have fun without alchohol, then that’s a challenge I’ll happily take.” You shot at her when you saw the gears in her head turning for too long. She looked up, immediately, saw the playful pout on your lips and quickly planted a kiss on them. She knew this was you wanting to treat her tonight, a fair exchange for all the times she had put you first. 
“Okay, let’s go, then.”
You walked out of the apartment with Misa in hand, but not after hearing the trio mutter,
“Ten euros on them leaving within the hour,”
“Pussy, make it forty... on them not even making it to the place.”
“You’re not having lots of faith in them… I call two hours, but make it forty-five.”
“Why not round it up to fifty?”
“I like odd numbers.”
“Fifty is an odd number, you doof.”
You bit your lip, realising you could have some fun with the bets they had placed. 
Finding an available parking spot in the city centre on a Saturday night had deemed more of a nightmare than initially anticipated. You should’ve just gotten an Uber, but you sensed Misa had done this on purpose. She’d insisted on driving the way there, after all, but you knew it was because she often really calmed down when behind the wheel. Especially at night, with the sun down. Only this hadn’t been the most relaxed drive. 
“Mierda-” She cursed as she rounded another corner, seeing a car park right in the spot she’d had her sights on. 
“I’m beginning to think you took the car on purpose just so you could use the no-parking-spots excuse and drive back home.”
“Don’t tempt me,” She laughed, her hand going to your thigh as she put the car in reverse, turning back around. You grabbed it, giving it a squeeze. She squeezed back, her eyes still fixated on the road behind her before turning the car back in first gear. It was a thing the two of you often did, the squeezing, both to ground each other when things got hard, and to remind one another you were in this together. Never alone. It was something Misa had kind of initiated after a particularly rough night you’d once had. It had been the first time she’d seen you so distraught… the first time she’d seen you cry, for that matter. It had all felt a little unknown to her. She was out of her element, physically aching at how she didn’t know how to get that smile of yours to reappear again. So she’d held you, squeezed you to the beating of her heart in an attempt to calm and comfort you, trying to get you back to her. It had worked, and every other time after that. 
“There!” You perched in your seat, finger pointing to the spot that had just cleared up. 
“I know,” Misa muttered, almost disappointed, “Hoped you wouldn’t notice.”
“Misa-” You let out a loud laugh, loving how her eyes immediately flitted to yours, amusement on her face. She parked the car, turned it off, then turned to you.
“You know, we could just stay here.”
“And?”
“I think you know.”
“No-” You pointed a finger at her, grabbed your clutch and pressed the release button of both your seatbelts, “I’m not losing. And you’re coming with me.”
“Losing what?”
But you had already playfully ran in front of her, turning around with a smirk on your face, daring her to catch up. 
“Do you even know where it is?”
“I’ll follow the music!” You yelled back.
Misa shook her head and bit her lip. You were one hell of a woman.
The club was packed, dark and filled with people who’d already drank more than just a club soda. But perhaps that was exactly the fun of places like these. People came here to let loose. To have fun. To dance without inhibitions, to mingle and meet strangers. After stuffing both yours and Misa’s ID’s back into your clutch, she pulled you close to her. It felt safe to feel the weight of her hand on the small of your back, to know she was there, caring about your safety. She cleared your way through the crowd, passed the dance floor, the bar, the bathroom before walking up to the booths lined up to the wall in the back. You recognised the familiar laughter before you saw the group. They all cheered when they realised you two had made it, after all. 
“Hey, what took you so long? Pay up, Leila!” Jenni laughed as she pulled the two of you into their booth. “Patri and Ale are getting drinks, Mapi and Ona went to the restroom.” She quickly informed you two before motioning towards the bar. 
You gave Olga and Ingrid a hug as best as you could over the tables filled with empty glasses. Conversation soon flowed freely. Granted, it was a little distracting that Misa’s hand rested on your leg, squeezing now and then as she fell into an idle chat with Alexia once she returned with the drinks. You sipped from your alcohol free beverage, actually finding yourself enjoying reconnecting with these girls more than you thought you would after having been plucked away from your Misa-bubble. 
Olga suddenly stood up, “I want to dance. Dance?” She turned to you, then to Ingrid.
“Dance.” You nodded, sliding across Misa’s lap and out of the booth. 
“Don’t get lost.” Misa smiled playfully, keeping hold of your hand until the distance made it fall back onto her lap.
“There they go, the girlfriends.” Mapi sighed dreamily, her eyes on Ingrid who blew a kiss over her shoulder. 
Misa took a deep breath, watching as the three of you laughed and walked away. “I love her.” 
“Yeah,” Alexia agreed, her eyes following Olga, breathless. 
The song had just changed as you made your way through the crowd, the three of you holding hands so as to not lose each other. Some people who hated the new song walked away, the dispersing crowd helping Olga to find her way to the centre of the dance floor. Olga’s cheer when Shakira’s Dare’s Club mix started to play egged Ingrid and you on and the music quickly helped you move around as if no one was watching. Two girls dancing close to the three of you joined, matching your childlike joy at being able to let go after a long week of work. The neon lights flashing above you were hot on your face as you moved around. But you couldn’t care less, you were having fun. A MEDUZA song started, followed up by something from Alok’s and Tiësto’s repertoire and soon, even without alcohol, the songs started to blur together. Olga pulled you close, quickly snapping a pic, then another one as Ingrid and the two girls joined. It was fun, and you wished it would never end. Your bladder had other plans. 
“Gotcha!” Olga yelled over the music when she realised what you were signing at, grabbed Ingrid’s hand and pulled the three off you out of the crowd as swiftly as she’d weaselled her way in. 
At the sink, the three of you giggled.
“I needed that.” Ingrid puffed out a breath, dapping at her neck with a wet towel, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the club. 
“The dancing or the break?” You nudged her, watching her reaction in the mirror as you washed your hands.
“Both.”
“Fair.” Olga nodded with a giddy smile, sitting atop the counter, handing you a paper towel from the dispenser beside her. 
“Oh-” Ingrid’s face suddenly fell, “We never said goodbye to those girls.”
“Aren’t we planning on going back out there?” 
You turned to Olga and watched her hop off, “I like the way you think. I’ll text the wives that we’re still A-OK.” 
“I’m just imagining them sitting in that booth, so lost.” Ingrid laughed.
“Then we should probably give them something to keep them entertained, no?”
Olga opened her mouth, both surprised and impressed, “I like the way you think, again. Ready?”
You linked arms, the heat immediate and slapping in your face as the door of the restrooms opened. Someone had just thrown up close-by, not making it to the toilet in time, that much was clear by the acidy smell in your nose. Or perhaps it was just the mixture of sweat, hormones and bitterly spilt drinks. You passed the bar, pushed through the crowd just enough so that the booth where your friends sat came into view. Olga pulled out her phone, turning the flash on and waving it around. Another waving flash came into view and you got a little closer. The girls from before had left apparently, but the three of you had fun either way as you danced again, interacting with the women in the booth now and then. Patri, Ona and Leila joined- Alexia was very clear that her seat was too comfortable to leave- Jenni danced over with her drink- Mapi opened her arms as Ingrid excused herself and joined her girlfriend in the booth, and Misa… Misa was staring right at you. You couldn’t quite tell if she was mesmerised by how independent, free and joyous you looked, like a little kid on the first day of summer, if she was trying to figure out what she’d ever done to deserve you, or if she was fantasising about all the things she could’ve been doing with and to you had you never left the apartment. She hadn’t even seem to notice the finger you’d used to try and beckon her towards you. You quickly ducked into view of the video Leila was making, then returned your gaze to the booth. Misa wasn’t there. But you knew exactly where she was when two familiar hands snaked across your waist from behind, her breath fanning your neck as you heard her hoarse voice from having had to talk above the music, “You look most beautiful when you’re happy.”
Your smile widened so much, it stretched your face. You grabbed her hands, swaying your hips along to the rhythm and against hers, loving how her grip tightened. She rested her chin on your shoulder, “God, you’re the best thing to have happened to me.” She murmured against your neck. She’d long abandoned her blazer and your hands traveled up her tattooed arms before you turned around in them, giving her nose a peck.
“I’m quite sure that should be my line.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, tilted her head, “Are you now? What’s that based on?”
You hummed, your arms snaking around her neck, hers falling to your hips, “Instinct.” 
“What else is that instinct of yours telling you?”
You pursed your lips, not missing the look in her eyes, the message, the request. 
“Thought you could read me so well?”
Misa’s lips cracked into a grin— you had her trapped. 
“I think it’s telling me to get you another glass of whatever you were drinking. Don’t want you fainting on me. You’re my ride home, after all.” She walked away backwards, eyes never leaving yours, knowing exactly what she had just done by throwing you a rope to hold onto, and then pulling it out of your reach. In the corner of your eye, you could see Patri sneaking a twenty euro bill towards Jenni. That meant one hour had passed. You’d love to see the looks on their faces as you’d ask them all your share of the money for having lasted more than two hours. If you could make it that far. Misa was making it incredibly hard to resist. You excused yourself and went back to the booth, being greeted by Alexia, who scooted over. 
“Enjoying yourself?” She asked in amusement, her eyebrow raised.
“Oh, yes. You, not so much?” You guessed, sensing this wasn’t exactly Alexia’s typical Saturday night.
“I am. Look at her.” A dreamy look coated her eyes as she watced a laughing Olga, having fun. “That’s all that matters.” She mumbled, but got a little embarrassed at the soft look you were giving her, “Anyway, shouldn’t you follow Misa, or something?” She chuckled, her tone a little too suggestive.
You froze. Oh God, had Misa meant something else with her whole ‘you’re looking parched’ act? Was it some sort of euphemism? Was she waiting in the bathroom now? She couldn’t be, right?
“No…” You breathed out in doubt.
Alexia laughed at the flabbergasted look on your face, “Sure looked like it from here… the way she was admiring you. Anyway, you go have fun, you youngsters,” She playfully rolled her eyes.
You stood up, a little self-conscious now as you fixed your clothes. Patri asked if you were okay by sending a questionable thumbs up your way, one you returned with a nod and smile. Gods, okay, what the hell. You were young indeed, why not enjoy it while it lasted.
Okay, the bathrooms. Right.
You felt yourself growing a little hotter as you pushed through the crowd, thoughts racing and your heart speeding up, but you turned back around when a sweaty hand on your arm stopped you. A man stood there. Mid-twenties, ash-blonde hair and a far-off look in his dark eyes as he smiled at you. You gave him a questioning glare, pulling your arm towards your body, but his hold wouldn’t budge. He leaned in, and you immediately reared back feeling incredibly uneasy. You realised he’d leaned in to tell you something,
“Never seen you here before.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile, then pulled at your arm again. He let go but put his hand on your shoulder and stood beside you, pointing towards the crowd with his drink in hand, “Wanna join me and my friends?”
“No, I’m good.” You give him another tight-lipped smile. Stay kind. Stay patient. Then slip away. You could hear yourself say over and over again in your head. You tried to step around him, but he blocked your way and his grip tightened. 
“Come on, please!” He gave you a playful smile and finally let go, allowing you to breathe again. He put his hands together and pouted, “For me?” 
You stepped to the right. He stepped to the right. Between his steps towards you, and your steps back, the panicked shimmying had left you with your back against one of the walls in a vacant spot of the club. Most people here were ready to leave, already too far gone to notice your predicament.
“I’d really rather not.” 
“Ah, why not? I’ll buy you a drink.”
One step closer. Another step back. You hit the wall. 
You shook your head, “No, thank you.”
“I’ve seen you dancing with your girls, come on, you can take them, too.”
“No, thank you. Let me go, now.” He had expertly draped his entire arm across your shoulders now, pulling you into his side, against his shirt as he dragged you a few steps back into the crowd on the outskirts of the dance floor, planning to disappear with you in the sea of people. 
“Ah, Dirty Little Virgin then, I see-” He let you go, but only slightly, the smirk on his face making you sick, “I’ll buy that cocktail for you, my treat, I’m sure you’ll like it, come on. My friends are there, you’ll like them.”
Panicked, your eyes darted around you, hoping that anyone who was watching would notice you were in distress and that you did not belong to this man.
Well, so much for being young and seizing the moment, you thought.
You fought against his hold, hating how your head pressed against his clammy shirt. You couldn't breathe.
“Joder, hijo de puta, keep your filthy fucking hands off of her, you sick fuck-” You turned your head around as much as you could in his drunken but firm grip, and saw your girlfriend push two drinks into the chest of the nearest bystander.
“Now.” She growled and approached, teeth baring, seething, fuming, already working on prying his arm off you with mighty strength. He let go in a painful protest. 
“Fucking hell-” He took offence, stepping in front of you as if Misa was the one he needed to protect you from.
“Step back and walk away.” She spoke through gritted teeth. You saw her clench her fist, all the anger in her body collecting in there, and you feared what the end result would be if she’d release it. 
“Fucking girl telling me how to live my night-”
Misa’s eyes then quickly flickered to yours, softening slightly, needing the confirmation that you were alright. Shaken up, yes, but Misa was here, so all would be fine. You trembled but nodded.
For your sake, she clenched her fists tighter, hoping to lock her anger there, not wanting this to get out of hand. But when he turned around and made a move to pull you with him again, she pushed him against his broad shoulders. He was tall, fit, towered over her, and yet Misa seemed not intimidated in the slightest. He lost some of his balance that he’d already lost to drinking the entire night, and clashed against some dancing bystanders. They scowled, scoffed, and stopped to see what was happening. More people seemed to realise something was up and turned to stare. You looked around at how many people were already looking your way. Your eyes caught those of your friends in the crowd, who saw the look in your eyes and immediately brought the entire situation to the attention of the others before they tried to make their way over through the partying crowd.
“Fucking girl has more manners than you or I would’ve knocked you out already.”
He huffed, took a step closer to her, abandoning his quest to get you to himself.
“Yeah? Think you can beat me?”
Misa tilted her head, half accepting the challenge and not backing down from this display of alpha behaviour, “I can. Don’t want to. So walk off.” She dug her fingers into his chest, making him take a step back. He immediately closed the distance again, their faces incredibly near to each other. You were finally able to walk away from him, making sure to walk around him in a large radius. When Misa saw you in her peripheral, her arm stood out and you immediately took the invitation to stand behind her. But instead of safely tucking you closer, she pushed you further away, and fear suddenly struck you. 
“Misa, come-” You softly tugged at her arm, afraid of what she'd to to him... what this man might do to her. Not that you thought she couldn’t handle him, please no. You just had to be realistic. And given his size and seeming strength, you weren’t sure how much damage this drunken fool would do to your girlfriend before she’d inevitably take him down.
“Afraid?” He taunted, standing way too close for both your comfort, but Misa didn’t waver one bit.
“Of a teenage boy throwing a hissy fit because he got rejected?”
You closed your eyes, realising Misa wasn't making it better when you saw the anger on his face.
“Then put your fucking money where your filthy mouth is.”
Your face paled as he bumped into her with his chest, but Misa barely budged. Oh, how different you thought your night would be the last time you’d heard that sentence. 
“Misa, please.” You pleaded, "Let's just go home." You felt her relax, lean back as if she realised you were right. If only he had just shut up after that.
His eyes went to yours again, an unreadable look in his eyes. He huffed, “Oh, I see.”
“Good,” Misa nodded, standing in front of you when he approached, “Then you should see she’s taken and not interested and quite frankly, disgusted by you. Fucking move!” She rose her voice and pushed him when he looked at you, readying himself to think of what would no doubt be an insult or a slur. 
A couple sets of arms and hands softly pried you backwards, to safety. Leila, Olga and Ingrid stood behind you, faces serious but gentle as they turned to you, pulling you out of harm’s way. You noticed Jenni, Alexia and Mapi were trying to pry Misa away from the man, making her see it was a useless thing to fight with a drunken fool who only enjoyed egging her on. But she was not backing down. Not now as the words left his mouth. Not only that— he had hurt you, intimidated you and made you feel afraid. Drunk or not, she was not going to leave without teaching a lesson to the one who had wiped the smile of her lover’s face. You watched as Misa’s friends pulled at her, pried at her, tried to talk in on her, tell her it was not worth it, but all you could see was the constant clenching of her fists. This was bad. 
You rubbed your temples, burying your head in your hands before looking back at Misa, “This is bad, get her out of there-” You muttered, stopping the trembling of your fingers by nibbling on them. Someone stroked your back as another hand with a glass of water was pushed in your face. You knew they meant well, but you couldn’t rest and calm down until Misa was fine, preferably a thousand miles away from the fool. 
“Fucking disgusting.” He used her words against her and spat at the ground. Within an instant, yelling ensued as you saw flying limbs and people dashing away. You jumped forward, a rush of instinct telling you to protect what you loved before arms kept you where you were, putting you down onto a stool, not wanting you to get hit in the process or to upset Misa even more. Leila went to stand in front of you, obstructing your view while glancing behind her now and then. 
“It’s okay- she’s okay- they’re all okay.” Ingrid reassured you, her eyes following her own girlfriend with worry. 
“Did he hit her?” 
“No.” Olga immediately shook her head, a little too quickly for your liking.
“She him?” You wondered, looking back up at Leila.
“Don’t think so.”
You rubbed your knees and dropped your head.
You could hear yelling.
“Hey- no, think of your career!”
“Fuck my career, think of my girl, you mean?! I’ll never put my fucking career before my girl. I fucking fight for what I love.”
“Hey- I know, I know, but she wouldn’t want you to do this.”
You realised the girls around you were joined by Ona and Patri as they started to whisper, then whisked you away.
“Time to go.”
“She’s behind us.” Patri immediately spoke when she saw the protest in your eyes.
“Say that the fuck again!? You made a fucking mistake laying a hand on her, you hear me?! Look me in the eyes and say that again!”
You glanced over Ingrid’s shoulder and saw Mapi, Jenni and Alexia forcefully shepherd a furious Misa along between them, who threw insult after insult over her shoulder at the man being held back by security. She looked as fine as she could given the situation. You saw no cuts, swelling or blood. At least not on her face. And with each passing step, the distance between her and the man grew. That calmed you down. For now. 
One of the bouncers walked behind your group, making sure you left without reconnecting with the man outside, telling them your night was over and to not return. Misa got mad at that, saying they should ban the man for sexual harassment, call the police, even. The bouncer only signed her to calm down, then told her they’d figure it out once they left so the fight wouldn’t commence in the streets. He kept a close watch on you all even as you exited the street. When the music boomed further in the distance and the streets turned vacant, Misa seemed to snap out of her anger and rushed through the group, hands immediately replacing those of Olga and Ingrid as she pushed you against her chest. 
“You’re okay now.” She kept muttering, and you realised she probably did so to herself, as well. Then, “I’m sorry.” Over and over again.
“I was worried you’d hurt yourself.” You let Misa squeeze the air out of you, burying yourself in her embrace.
The biting tone to her voice returned, “Well, I was worried he’d hurt you.”
“He didn’t.”
“Okay.” Misa put you at an arm’s length in front of her, examining your eyes to see if you were lying, then pushed the stray hairs from all the dancing out of your face.
“But I really want to go home now.” 
Misa’s heart broke at your voice. You sounded so disappointed… defeated, that your night had ended like this. This was not the night you’d had in mind, and it didn’t seem like you were leaving with those forty-five euros either. 
Misa also couldn’t help but feel something for the way you had called her place home.
She grabbed your hand, squeezed it twice, I’m here, you’re okay, and turned to the others. She quickly thanked them for looking after you and making sure she hadn’t just killed someone, seeing you couldn't, and then pulled you into her as you walked back to where you’d parked the car. Misa softly pried the clutch out of your hands and dug around for her car keys.
“No- I said I’d drive. I haven’t drank anything. I'm fine, I can do it.” You protested, only for Misa to open the passenger door and help you in, even going as far as to put on your seatbelt. She planted a kiss on your cheek.
“I haven’t drank anything either.”
“I told you I would-”
“I can have fun without alcohol, too, believe it or not. And I was having a good night before-” She stopped herself, shrugged it off and got in the car herself, "Well, I didn't want to drink too much anyway, because then I wouldn't be able to protect you the way I want."
“You do too much for me.” Your little voice sounded in the quiet of the car once she had driven off. 
“There’s no such thing when it comes to you.” Misa kept her eyes on the road, her hand squeezing your knee to comfort you.
“But you never let me do anything back. It’s give and take, you know?”
“I don’t see our relationship as transactional. I do things for you because I love you. That doesn’t mean I need anything in return.”
It was silent for a while, until you spoke up.
“‘Kay, good. Because I’m in your debt after tonight and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do such a thing back to you. He was big.”
“His ego, maybe.” Misa snorted, finally being able to see the humor of it all now that she had you safe and sound beside her. 
You didn’t laugh along, instead wondering, “Did you hit him?”
“Wouldn’t be sitting here if I did.”
You thought of the bouncers and security, “Yeah, okay.”
“I wanted to, though.” She turned to look at you, “Said some real nasty shit about you, us, then swung at me. He was so drunk that he almost hit Mapi. That’s when security stepped in and held him back. Couldn’t get a punch in even if I wanted to.”
“So he didn’t hit you either?”
She stopped at the intersection, “No, love, I’m fine.” She grabbed your clenched hand, softly pried her fingers through and planted a kiss on the back of it. She didn’t need to ask if you were fine, she could see you were still a little shaken, the worry for her only slowly disappearing. 
“You could have ruined your entire career back there.”
Misa shrugged, driving off again, “So?”
“So?! Everything you worked for?! Your entire life?!” 
“That’s only slightly true. You’re my entire life. Do you really I think I would have picked it over your safety?” Fuelled by passion for you, she continued, “Listen, football is everything to me. I breathe it, I am it, but at the end of the day, you are what keeps me holding on. You are what drives me, who I want to make proud, who I think of at the start and end of each day. Football became my everything when I grew up and I had a rough time, when I didn’t have a lot of people in my corner. It’s like a best friend. It filled up some of the loneliness I felt. Gave me a purpose, gave me friends, gave me something to focus on, something to enjoy. But you… I’m not sure I can even properly explain what you mean to me without making it sound too dramatic or cheesy, but it’s true. You are my everything. You are... this tangible kind of love, something I can hold and instantly feel relief, love, belonging…. You are joy when I see your smile, you’re my idea of a fun time whenever I hear you laugh. Your love is so big that I can even feel what you feel for me from miles away. That I’m wanted. That I'm yours completely. I’ve never been lonely a day in my life ever since we got together, not even when you are out of the country. I love you to your core.” She turned to you, finally daring to look into your eyes, “That’s why I don’t need anything in return. How can I want even more when you’ve already given me all of that?”
Tears prickled your eyes and your throat burned as you tried to hold them in. Misa was never one for grant speeches or declarations of love. She never needed to tell you how she felt about you when she already showed you. But this… it had moved you. 
You could see she had played back her monologue in her head and grew a little embarrassed, her hands gripping the wheel and her eyes focusing on the road.
“Don’t forget that, okay?” She softly added.
She saw you wipe at your eyes and felt you move to her side, planting a teary kiss on her temple. She heard you whisper those three words, words that were spoken by everyone in the entire world to declare one’s love, and yet, even while so common, they still made her heart burst. 
Misa smiled, “I love you, too.”
The two of you relished in the way your hearts swelled for a bit, until your chuckle filled the quiet car. She turned to you, amused yet confused all the same.
"Que?"
"I thought your whole 'leaving to get drinks' thing was a euphemism. I was on my way to the restroom, actually. Then I saw you with those drinks and God- I could slap-"
"Wait- you wanted to... with me... there?"
"I mean... I figured you-" You stopped.
Misa shook her head, telling you it was okay. She bit her lip, turned to you, her eyes flicking to your body, then to your face. She shrugged and turned back to the road, a smug smile on her face knowing you were hers to love.
"Can't say I hadn't thought about it, but I wanted them to lose, you know? And if we'd started that, I'd have dragged you back home to finish it."
You gasped, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at her confession, "You knew about the bets, too?!"
"They weren't exactly being secretive about it."
"Right?!"
"Having said that," Misa started to drum her fingers against the steering wheel and absentmindedly looked across the road, making it clear to you that her next statement wouldn't be as unserious, "Guess it's safe to say that if there'll ever even be a next time, I won't let you out of my sight all goddamn night. Maybe I can take you up on that offer then." You felt the squeeze on your leg and your hand found hers, squeezing back.
"I'm good on clubs for a while."
"Fine by me. That way we'll never have to leave the apartment again, no?" You pushed her away, seeing the suggestive look on her face, that of a teenager high on hormones.
"Don't you start getting ideas into that pretty head of yours, now."
She held up her hand in defeat, "Vale-" She laughed, then quieted down, her mood softening.
"Let's go home then."
She looked your way, then realised home was already sitting next to her.
⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚
do not publish elsewhere without my consent 🖤
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Text
Liar Liar
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Just a little Protective!Austin Butler x Wife!Reader blurb
Summary - After a rather unpleasant encounter with a familiar neighbor at your local supermarket, you come home to your husband, Austin, teary-eyed and shaken up. He handles it, and afterward, he handles you.
Warnings - Mid-Late 60s AU, vague mention of unspecified sexual harassment/assault, swearing, hinted at violence, protective Austin crying, angst, Austin is a bit insensitive here, Austin is set to be a morally grey person outside of his love for you
WC - 2k
Author's Note - So I haven't used this account in forever mostly because I haven't felt like writing much lately, I've been lacking inspiration, but I was scrolling through pinterest and saw that picture of Austin, and good god. Anyways now we're here, enjoy. This was also supposed to have a very smutty ending but it felt too random the way I was formatting it so I tossed it, so this ending is random and abrupt, but again it's just a blurb
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The sound of Austin's tongue clicking at the two orange cats that wormed their way through his legs and around his feet was cut off by a wince as he knicked his thumb on the ridged edge of the cat food can.
Normally you'd feed the cats just before starting dinner, but you'd gone to the grocery store over half an hour before to grab a few ingredients. Austin didn't mind feeding the cats. Although he pretended to think they were a menace to the home, truth be told he didn't mind the cats as long as you weren't around, when you were around he'd get jealous of the love you showed the cats, almost like a child.
"Damnit…"
He mumbled softly before bringing the knick up to his mouth to suck the blood up. He could hear you already nagging him about using soap and water, you were very passionate about hygiene and health. He could also hear you nagging him about using a knife to open the can instead of the state-of-the-art electric can opener you bought at a Home Show. He hated when you went to those things, he feared you would realize the poor quality of life that his job provided the two of you with, seeing all that gorgeous furniture while your own was hand-me-down from his parents and going on 13 years old this June.
The cats let out a choir of meows that were beginning to overpower the tune that Austin had playing on the record player, Bring It On Home to Me, Sam Cooke. Austin still wasn't quite over his death, so Cooke had kept the both of you company many mornings and nights as Austin's way to honor him. Austin sighed softly,
"Alright alright, it's coming you glutinous bastards"
He used his uncut hand to peel back the rest of the can's top, then after walking to the cat bowls, he, in a very unceremonious manner began beating and battering the open end of the can into the poor plastic bowls. After a dozen or so pounds (one of which may have been from the angry neighbors in the apartment below), the food was dished out and the cats were happy as clams.
He tossed the can into the sink, confident you would sort through it later as you'd been getting quite involved in some sort of environmental shenanigans with those hippies which involved reusing cans for art or other projects. Austin didn't like you around them truthfully.
As Austin took a quick swig of a bottle of brandy he heard the front door open and close. Not an unusual occurrence. If you went out the door, of course, you'd come back in the door. What was unusual was the lack of that sing-song voice of yours. There was no, "I'm home!!", no "Baby guess what?!", no "Where are my pretty kitties?" in reference to both Austin and the actual cats, there was nothing. And it was eerie, making Austin for a moment furrow his brows and crane his neck to see if it was you.
He smiled softly at the sight of your figure, you were turned away from him, a bag in each arm, trying to lock the door, it's something you'd done many times before, but this time your arms were too shaky to keep it all together, and with a clatter and crash of glass one of the bags fell from your arms, landing on the floor, making you jump back in shock.
The noise had surprised Austin as he flinched at the sudden ruckus, quickly rounding the counter, letting your pet name "Babydoll", slip through his lips in worry as he did so. Thankfully he noticed whatever glass jar or bottle you'd bought at the market had broken in the bag so there weren't shards strewn about, his rough hand landed on your wrist to turn you around, but you'd jumped and turned at the sensation, not expecting him to touch you, or be so close to you.
"Woah, woah, babydoll what's the matter?"
At his concerned tone and furrowed eyebrows of confusion your face had crumpled and you let out a child-like cry, ugly in all its manner, but as raw as can be. Your arms stretched out to him as your face continued to contort in a way Austin had not yet seen. Now it wasn't unusual for you to cry, you had always been a bit of a crybaby truthfully, but you hadn't cried so helplessly for as long as Austin could remember.
"Baby? Honey, what's wrong?"
He kept trying to push you away far enough to make eye contact with you, but before he could you kept curling your head back into his chest or shoulder. "What happened?" His voice was stern but there were hints of sympathy that only you could detect as you continued to cry into his chest.
"T-thomas…"
Austin's forehead wrinkled at the name in confusion. Thomas was a tenant in the same apartment building, you and Austin had met him a few times before and he had confided in Austin about his issues regarding how unsteady his job was, how much he'd been spending on alcohol, and the kind of dark conflicting thoughts he'd had. All those things combined and the fact that Thomas' wife often sported a bruise after the entire apartment building was subjected to listening to their arguments had given Austin enough reason to tell you to stay away from him.
"What's he got to do with this Baby?"
With your silence and sniffles being his only current answer, Austin's imagination goes wild, and those soft pillowy lips thin into a line of concentration. His rough hands which have only handled your body carefully, begin to forcefully latch onto the sides of your head, pulling your head back to finally look him in the eye. It felt like your skull might soon cave in and you weren't sure if it was the overwhelming feelings of the moment or if he was just using that much force. You knew very well it could've been the latter.
Your lip quivers as you look up at his blank face. He let out a shudder of a breath and asked with a jittery, almost sinisterly excitable look in his eye, "Did Tommy touch you? Did he lay a hand on you like he does his wife? He hit you?"
You attempted to shake your head only to feel his hold on your head grow tighter as he edged his face closer to yours. As he stared at you through those blank glassy eyes, like he didn't have a clear, coherent thought behind them, he asked another question.
"What did he do?"
The eye contact was getting to be too much, you felt like too much of a wreck to answer, so you closed your eyes, and with the closing of your lids, tears slid down your cheeks simultaneously. And that was enough of an answer for Austin. His voice was gravelly, as he mumbled, "That fucking-"
Before he could finish his statement, he'd paced back into the kitchen, pulling a drawer open roughly, you could hear by the clatter it made that it was either the silverware drawer or the knife drawer. It didn't matter which, in Austin's state he could do a decent amount of damage with either.
Finally, you regained your voice, "Austin…" but it was too late, he was already about to pace right by you. But you grabbed his wrist with both hands, "Austin..!" He turned to look at you and had easily released himself from your grip, instead now he held your wrist and pulled you over to the couch.
By now your tears were from both your experience with Thomas but also your worry for Austin. You didn't want him doing something that would land him in jail. You knew that he had been the kind of man in the past to run with the wrong crowd and he already did have a criminal record, which is part of the reason his job has such shitty pay. They say old habits die hard but you didn't want another man to die with it.
Your voice was quivery and weeping as you put two shaky hands on his free hand, pleading rather than asking, "Y-you're not gonna kill him, are you? You're not gonna touch him right? Oh please Austin it's not a big deal, I don't want you to-"
"Stay here. I don't want you to go off and get yourself into more fucking trouble"
Austin paced to the hook holding his brown jacket and quickly shrugged it over his white tank, zipping it before making his way out the door. He didn't even spare you a look before slamming the door to the apartment shut.
You felt hurt by the statement, it wasn't something he'd normally say, and he didn't tend to speak to you like that. But you could reassure yourself that it's just because he's so worried about you. Austin tended to be a little mean when he was overwhelmed, angry, sad, or worried. But you knew to listen to his command in this state.
For the next hour or so you had calmed yourself down and had tucked yourself into the corner of the worn, plush sofa. Your cats Marlon and Kick were cuddled up to you with Marlon by your feet and Kick on your lap. And just as you were beginning to nod off you heard the lock click and door open. The apartment was quite small so your living room and kitchen happened to also be your apartment entry. You turned your head and saw Austin looking cautious as he entered the apartment.
Whenever he yelled at you he had that cautious look before approaching you, it was cute and boyish. It made you forget he ever yelled. As he walked closer the dim, yellow lighting of the living room lamp gave you a sight of a reddish, brownish color stained onto the fabric of his brown jacket, it wasn't in large splashes, it was more so a little spatter on the two the sleeves and over the front center. Your stomach dropped as you questioned, "Aus, is that.."
"It's my own Honey, it was a fair fight, fists only"
He said that as if it would make you feel better, well it did a little, knowing it was less likely for him to have killed the guy and get put away for life. Austin shrugged off the jacket and tossed it into the laundry room which was more of a closet really, before walking over to sit on the sofa next to you. His white tank was completely unharmed, still a pristine white.
You looked him over with a bit of worry, he spoke lowly, "Thomas isn't gonna bother you again, it- It's all handled, Baby". You hummed appreciatively and maneuvered your body to cuddle into his side. "Thank you, Honey…" He hummed in response while staring at the pictures on the wall in front of the two of you, he leaned his head onto yours which rested on his shoulder.
You then asked,
"What happened to the knife?"
He answered while continuing to look straight ahead,
"Ah, I dropped it, don't know why I took it. I think I lost it somewhere in the stairwell, I'll go looking for it tomorrow."
Your eyes fell to his lap, the way his calloused hands lay so limply. You didn't believe him. You knew when your husband was lying. And you knew when he said that the blood was his that he was lying, after all his face looked clean and smooth aside from his 5-o'clock shadow. Didn't have a bruise, some sort of swelling, or a scratch on him.
His voice had pulled you out of the storm that your thoughts were developing as he mumbled, "I love you."
You grabbed his hand and smiled, "I love you."
As you held it you noticed a little itty bitty cut on his thumb, not any sort of cut from a fight.
"What happened to your thumb?"
Austin peered down at it and shrugged, "Cut it opening a can"
Your eyebrow quirked as you looked up at him, shoulders going limp in defeat as you nagged, "I told you to stop using knives to open the cat food, why do you think I bought that electric can opener-"
"Why can't we just have a hand-held can opener??"
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luveline · 1 year
Note
would you ever consider writing poly!marauders? or even more of the luna reader with platonic (or romantic) marauders?
if u have more poly!m requests please send them (to clarify this is romantic) fem!reader tw cut
"You should be more careful," Remus says, "really, dove." 
You lean back against the kitchen counter and try not to wince as he finishes with the dressing on your arm. 
"I am careful," you say. 
He laughs softly. It's a rare sound, kind that has you smiling immediately. You wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to press down on your injury, and kiss his neck quickly. 
"Thanks for fixing me, handsome," you say. 
Remus pats your back. "That's never something you have to thank me for… You might like me less when the boys come home." 
You pull away. "You texted them?" you ask, already resigned to your fate. 
He looks gorgeous even when you're mad at him, pale skinned but dark in his way, dark eyes and dark brows and his amazingly handsome nose that makes you wanna lean over and kiss him. 
"Afraid so." Remus squeezes a path up your arm to your shoulder. "You know the lashing they'd give me if I didn't." 
"Well," you murmur, "I suppose you did patch me up." 
He kissed your forehead as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. "That's the spirit." 
"Angel?" 
You relax. It's James, which means you aren't in for a loving telling off, just a loving. You stay by Remus' side until James is in view, a shock of green rugby uniform stark against brown skin. He sheds his bag and you practically throw yourself into his open arms, 'cause usually that's exactly what he wants. 
"Wait wait wait!" he says, holding out his hand, his wrist brace scratchy against your arm. "Don't hurt yourself worse! What happened?" 
You fight him, trying to hug him and laughing when he holds you back like you're nothing. He's strong. "James, come on. I cut it on the garden fence." 
He makes a sound like he feels super sorry for you and finally lets you hug him, your face in his solid chest, your hands at the small of his back. You settle in for as long as you want, James and you both suckers for a good hug, and sigh as his cheek kisses the top of your head. 
"You okay, Moons? You look tired." James voice rumbles through your hear, low and warm. 
"Fine. She just shocked me, running in the house with blood dripping down to her elbow." 
"Give us a hug." 
"I'll make tea." 
James turns his lips to your forehead, "How come he'll hug me when we're alone, and he'll hug you all day long when you're together, but he's totally allergic to affection when we're together?" 
"He's shy," you mumble, "ask him again in an hour and he'll say yes." 
The door opens a second time and you'd hide your face pretty much in James' armpit, laughing through the horror. "Hide me." 
"No, I don't think so." 
James works your face away from his chest, hands held over the soft slopes of your shoulders. He looks you in the eye, all melty brown and sweetness. "Sure you're okay?" he asks. 
You hum. He kisses your cheek. 
"Okay, I'm gonna go harass Remus for a hug then, before he boils the kettle and threatens me with a scalding. Love you." 
"I don't love you, you're leaving me for the wolves." 
"I'm hardly a wolf," comes Sirius' amused drawl. 
James raises his eyebrows at you in a silent gesture for Good luck, angel, and disappears around the corner to the kitchen. 
You sigh and spin on your heel, finding your arch nemesis (concerned boyfriend) propped against the wall. He's in casual work attire, which for Sirius is a smart pair of trousers and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up. His tan seems to have waned in the winter, leaving him pale. Though he often claims in a joking manner that it's a consequence of loving you, he's always so worried it steals the colour from his skin. 
I like to worry, he'd assured you once. 
"You might not believe me, but you look very handsome today," you say. 
He raises a dark brow. "You say that every day." 
"Emphasis on 'very,'" you say. 
He pulls his weight off of the wall and holds out his hand as he approaches. You let him take your arm, let him assess the small dressing bandage Remus has applied over your cut. 
"It was deep," you admit, "but not very long." 
"Mm, Remus said," Sirius says, near murmuring as his thumb works into your wrist. He rubs over unbroken skin gently. "Does it hurt?" 
You shake your head vehemently. 
"Swear?" 
"Why would I lie?" you ask. You smile at him. "You really do look handsome. And you didn't need to come home from work." 
"It's my lunch break." 
"Oh, good! Let me make you something, while everybody's home." 
"Or I can make you something," he suggests. 
You enter into a stare off. He faces you with little expression, a blank slate. A pretty blank slate. His lashes don't so much as flicker, while you struggle to keep a straight face under so much seriousness. Your lips twitch with a laugh and something about it must break him, because he takes your face into his two hands and presses your noses together. 
"You make it very hard to be sensible about things," he says, and gives you a chaste kiss. 
His lips are a warmth you savour, and he steals them back much too swiftly for your liking. 
"Remus is the sensible one," you deny. "You're the overprotective one. And James is… James." You sigh, lovelorn. "And I'm the stupid one who cuts herself on chicken wire. You really didn't have to come home." 
"I wanted to." 
He leads you by the hand into the kitchen, where James and Remus stand in front of an unboiled kettle, Remus face smushed into James broad shoulder, a muscled arm locking him into place. He looks quite happy. 
"Sorry, I'm still making tea," he says into James' sleeve.
"No, I'm gonna make dinner," you say, yanking Sirius to the lovefest. 
You worm under James' other arm and Sirius strokes at the hair curling over Remus' forehead, mumbling, "Oh, god, she's killed you." 
"Worse ways to go," Remus says. 
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ayanominitrash · 5 months
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INTRIGUE (True Form Sukuna x Reader)
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꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
Humans.
Though weak creatures, they cause chaos wherever and whatever era. It only seems like the only consistent thing in this world. They crawl like the desperate pathetic ants they are, forever struggling to survive day by day. The other idiot ants feel superior to the others, taking advantage of their power that they’d go so far as to take the food that others worked hard to haul onto the hill only for them to have it for themself.  Corruption. No matter the age, Ryomen Sukuna - King of Curses- has witnessed the same thing over and over again. It’s getting a little tiring to look at. 
This is the exact description that anyone in the village would put in the Kamo clan - the corrupt and tyrant rulers. They are wealthy and at the top of the power hierarchy, the very source of corruption, of abuse. The men in the family would beat, abuse, and take advantage of their blood relatives. Some are sold, adding more riches to their unnoble stockpile of treasure. To any lowlife they come across and feel like harassing, they would do so through pain and torture or even just public humiliation just for fun. There wasn’t any person that was brave enough to stand up against them. They were the only ones who were capable of protecting them from curses that would invade them from time to time. The people in that village are under their mercy. Where else can they go when there are curses out there beyond, not knowing how many are out threading freely?
Sukuna sighs in exasperation as he remains squatting on a tree branch, overlooking the nearby village under the bright sun. Sukuna hides in the forest, far away enough that humans wouldn’t loiter around much but close enough that he can watch what goes on in that small puny community. If he does encounter a human, his terrifying four-armed figure will be the last thing that they’d see before their demise. However, in recent days, there haven’t been a lot of humans threading deep into the forest because of the rumors that people who go there never return. Because of this, he hasn’t eaten for weeks and is currently starving for meat. Sukuna debates if it is time to raid the village to satiate his hunger and quench his thirst for blood. 
As if on queue, there was a rustle from the bushes nearby and a familiar scent carried in the wind to which Sukuna wasted no time but to take it all in with one big whiff. It’s the scent that he’s been longing for so long.
Food.
He makes his move, swinging his four arms from one branch to another as quietly as possible, making his way toward the delicious smell. He won’t be bothered to check if this one’s good meat, the only thing he cares about is to quiet down the rumbling of his stomach. When he reaches a safe enough distance, he crouches down his big frame behind one of the bushes near the small river stream. Sukuna’s red eyes shine against the sun as soon as it lands on his meal, licking his lips. 
It was a small girl with short hair, the bottom of her purple kimono neatly folded as she was squatting down at the side of the stream, running a hand in the water while staring in silence. She has her back turned to him as she hums a tune to herself. This was a very easy and effortless catch for Sukuna, a little girl with her guard down. He doubted that he would feel full after ingesting her whole being but it was better than nothing.  The King crouched down and waited, getting ready to pounce until he finally did with a deafening roar. 
Sukuna lands where she is, thinking he has crushed her. He was ready to dig his fingers into her body when he realized that he didn’t hear any screaming and that there was no one underneath him. Confused, he looks around only to see the girl had dogged him and is now holding her hands up.  This completely baffled Sukuna as he stared at the girl’s shocked but not scared face.
“E-easy there, I don’t intend to harm you. I’m sorry if I wandered too far into your territory.” She says in a high-pitched shaky voice. “I-I know you must be h-hungry. I’m actually carrying hens in the b-basket I’m carrying, if that would suffice”
Watching the girl talk made his blood boil. How dare she outwit him by dodging his attack? He would’ve consumed her by now if it weren’t for her eagerness to live. The foolish human thinks she can talk her way out of getting eaten by the King of Curses. He runs towards her, claws extended in front of him when she jumps out of the way again but this time, he can grab her by the foot. She yelps in pain at what he thought because of his grip but he looks down and sees a massive bruise on her ankle. It looked like it had been there for a few days so it couldn’t be because of him. She screams and lands on the shallow side of the water, wetting her hair, face, and upper body. He drags her leg towards him, laughing at the way she digs her fingers into the soil trying to stop herself from getting dragged. With ease, he lifts her upside down with one hand, satisfied with the way her Kimono drops down exposing her slender legs and undergarments.
“Oi, oi, oi! That’s no way to treat a lady, Mister!” She makes an effort to shake her fist at him despite being upside down. “P-please, maybe you should try the hen first?!”
The gull of this human to keep talking as if her life was not about to end made him stop in his movements to look down on her. Her face is panicked but not scared. This takes the fun out of killing her but he’s really after the food instead of the thrill. Still, Sukuna has never encountered a girl who acted this way. It was always screaming, crying, and flailing their hands which made it all the more delicious when he finally sank his sharp teeth into their flesh, silencing the pathetic pleas. Still holding her upside down, his eyes curiously do a double take on this peculiar filth he managed to catch. The little girl, no, this young woman had bruises, burns, and cuts all over her limbs. Some wounds have already been scars but others are still healing. The curse thought this person was a little girl but no doubt she was a woman with her mature figure and breasts. It was just that she was incredibly thin as if the concept of food was never introduced to her. Sukuna knows that he told himself before he attacked that he wasn’t gonna bother with the quality of this meat, but this made him lose his appetite. But mostly, he was curious about what this filth went through, and why doesn’t she act as if life was taken from her, like an empty shell. Instead, she has a wild and bright spirit in her that burns his eyes. It was. . . interesting.
He drops her to the ground.
“See, see! Hens do sound good if you just give it a chance. Come, come!” The woman scrambles to her feet to reach for the basket near the stream. She whips it around and offers it to him, with a hopeful smile on her face or a grateful one for having shown mercy. “They’re fresh from my uncle’s farm!” 
He stares at this ridiculous scene in front of him for a moment before crossing both pairs of his arms. “Get that fucking thing out of my face, you filthy being. What do you take me for?” 
The curse’s deep menacing voice was frightening enough that the young woman recoiled, pulling the hen back to her chest.  She was too stunned to say anything. 
“Well then, why didn’t you eat me if you didn’t want the hen?” 
This made Sukuna pull a dumbfounded face for her to talk to him so bluntly. He curls his lips in amusement, “You’re as filthy as they come, human. You’ve ruined my appetite with your disgusting state.”
“Hm?! Do you mean my injuries? I didn’t know curses were so picky.” She puts her hand on her chin as if in deep thought. 
“So you know what a curse is then, filth. Are you not afraid?”
“Should I be?” For the first time, there was a small smile on her lips as she stared up into the king’s eyes. “I’m well aware that people who enter the forest never come back and I know for sure that they’re eaten by curses. I didn’t think I’d encounter one so soon though, and it is the King himself, no less.”
It’s as if everything that comes out of this filth’s mouth was made to surprise Sukuna every time it opens. He still hadn’t come to terms with that this was all happening, so he couldn’t stop himself from laughing maniacally out loud out of the ridiculousness of it all, of his sharp teeth bearing in front of her. She flinches a little at the sight of him.
“You amuse me!” He finally says as soon as he stops laughing. “Bear to me your name, filth.”
She says her name in a small voice. 
“Never heard of you! Nonetheless, I shall not forget you, filth. I’m  still hungry and I’m still going to eat you despite how you are.” 
He laughs a little when he sees her shoulders drop and deflate at the realization that her life was not spared, the hen finally flies out of her grasp. 
“Uh- I know I came here knowing my fate but it seems that I'm afraid to die after all. I know you’re hungry. Are you alright with at least an arm? Or a leg? I can give you that much.” 
Again, he was taken aback by the words that left her lips once more. Before he can even say anything, she throws her left arm in his direction. “How about this arm?! There aren't many cuts here?” 
For the first time, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, was at a loss for words. He glares down at the odd creature in front of him, wondering what’s wrong with her. He takes a few steps back, widening the distance between them. After a few steps, he plops himself cross-legged on the ground. They carefully watch each other in silence, wary of each movement one of them makes. In the background, the hen she was once holding was leisurely bathing itself in the shallow end of the water. 
“Human,” Sukuna finally speaks to her, who flinches again. “Tell me, why are you decorated like a warrior and sickly thin like that of a twig?” 
The girl deflates in her seat again in the grass. She looked down at the stream and opted to go back to her position before Sukuna attacked her, one hand dipping in the water. Silence blankets them once more as she gathers her thoughts. 
“Hmmm. . .if you’re not going to eat me, then what are you planning to eat? Do you eat pigs?”
“I asked you a question, filth. I have yet to hear your answer.”
“- Because if you eat pigs, I could go ahead and grab one from the village and offer it to you. I don’t think I just leave knowing that you’re hungry if you’re kind enough not to kill me.”
“Are you not going to answer me?”
“Can I at least offer you something to eat first before I do?”  She gives a sheepish smile. “I know what it’s like not having anything to eat, as you can tell. My arm is still on the offer if that will help you.” 
“Bring me another human, then.” 
She was quiet for a bit, removing her hand from the water and then bringing it up to her chin in thought, not minding the water droplets dripping on her kimono since it was already messy from the earlier event. “Do you think an older lady will be okay? She’s on the brink of her death. She’s got a plump frame.”
Sukuna laughs again in amusement. “Do you have no regard for your kind? Oh, Humans!”
She shrugs, then grins, “I heard you like cooked humans. I can cook her for you if you’d like.”
His ears perk at this. It has been a while since he tasted cooked human meat. His previous servant was the only one who could cook for him and they have long since parted nearly a decade ago. His stomach growls at the mere suggestion of grilled meat. 
She lightly laughs, her eyes softening. “I take that as a yes. I can do that much for you for your kindness. You may find it odd for me to kill my kind, but honestly, I think it’s better to put her out of her misery. She was a great woman.” 
“How do I know you’ll come back, filth? I know, if you do not come back when the full moon rises, I will burn down your village.” 
Sukuna had a small inkling that she wouldn’t mind her village burning down, seeing how she is all covered in different types of injuries just from living there, but the mere mention of her village made the color drain from her face.
“Understood, then.” As the girl stands up with the basket full of hens, she makes an effort to dust off her kimono but it doesn't do anything. “Full moon it is!”
“Hurry up, fifth. I do not like waiting.” Sukuna says before standing up and walking back into the forest where he came from. 
⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere // this is one of my first Sukuna fics and I wrote this way back on March this year damn //not re-proofread so sorry if some parts dont make sense or some typa cringe lol
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bibluebutterfly · 4 months
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(Edited January 21, 2024. This got a bit outdated so I'm fixing it to keep the main point.)
Since Hazbin Hotel is coming nearer I feel like I should give a heads up:
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: NOBODY IN HAZBIN HOTEL WILL BE A GOOD PERSON EXCEPT FOR CHARLIE AND MAYBE Vaggie.
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Alastor is a sadistic blood thirsty cannibalistic serial killer.
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Angel Dust is a selfish druggie murderer who gets into gang violence for funsies, and sexually harasses people to cope with his own trauma.
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Nifty is almost DEFINITELY a crazy killer when it comes down to it.
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Husk is a dead beat drunk who cares for almost nothing.
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We already know about Val’s deal. (Even his most prominent fans want to see this man SUFFER, so that says enough.)
Vox enables him, participates in the abuse to SOME degree, and has DEFINITELY screwed a ton of people over to get where he is now. (Getting real tired of the poor baby Vox allegations.)
Not much on Vel but she’s part of the Vees so she’s basically guaranteed to be a bitch. (Updated: Yeah she's definitely a bitch. But I love her.)
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Yes. Some of them may be able to be redeemed but they all got in Hell for a REASON. And it wasn’t by being the uwu babies that some of y’all truly believe they are.
These characters are going to be entertaining, but they will also be awful. At least for the start of the series.
You may love them as these poor victims who were screwed over by life, but they’re ALL adults who made their choices and are now living with the consequences.
So just be ready for that when the show comes out, and they have their downright asshole moments or (in the Vees case) just turn out to be plain evil.
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mhsdatgo · 4 months
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By the way, you can say you hate characters and STILL admit that they were abused or harassed. There's literally nothing wrong. Denying it or romanticizing it because of a strange kink of yours won't make your hate any less evident, trust me.
Rhaenyra was abused. She's continuously taken advantage of, and brushed away the moment she isn't needed anymore. And she experiences this first hand with her own father, who completely ruins motherhood for her when she grows up watching Aemma get impregnated and either miscarry or have the baby be stillborn or die in the cradle. If Viserys had been by her side as a supporter to her claim since the start, he wouldn't have gotten Aemma pregnant again and again in the pursuit of a male child. He wouldn't have married Alicent for the same reason. Even after, the only reason why he still stands by her side, and it's time the fandom accepts this, it's solely because of his grief and guilt, because Rhae is the only remnant of Aemma.
And there it starts. Firstly, groomed and left alone naked and alone by her uncle in a brothel. Secondly, slept with Criston Cole (although she did coerce him, that's still a literal TEENAGER) then she's married to a gay man and still approached super young by her new bodyguard and just one year later she's started giving birth to his children. (Side note: FUCK Rhaenyra x Harwin. FUCK with reverb. With hard K.)
And up to this point, most fan agree that she's had a shitty life, although I don't agree with some of her choices. (like her treatment of Criston Cole and the bastards, not because I'm some kind of bigot, but because passing bastards as trueborn in THAT precise world sets them up for failure, not being legally deserving of a thone DOES NOT mean me hating them. That's for another post.)
To top it all off, she meets her uncle again, and there starts the fanfic self insert. They have sex on a beach the day of Laena's funeral, the only one of the three wives he's ever been canonically loyal to (FUCK you writers) and fans think it's soulmates meeting again or sum shit. They subtly threaten Laenor to fake his death or actually die (that's what they were trying to do, cope harder) and marry mere days after the death of Laena.
Yes, all cute and romantic (for Dumbnyras twats) but literally, has it done anything good? For Rhaenyra or like, anyone else? It just brought Daemon closer to the line of succession. Literally. That's all the good it has done.
Fast forward to ep 10. How do I even start with this? Only Jace seems to be on Rhaenyra's side. It's clear he only obeys to Daemon out of fear and is scared to talk back to him. Meanwhile, he COMPLETELY disregards his wife's, and by his faction's loyalties, QUEEN's, orders, he ignores her wails of pain as she miscarries their daughter out of pure shock and grief for her father's death. He lashes out and chokes her on the same day and people still see him as the malewife to Rhaenyra's girlboss. They're always ready to do award-deserving mental gymnastic to justify this man.
"He was planning war because he wanted to distract himself!!!!" "He only choked Rhae because he was mad at Viserys, he'd never hurt her!!!!!!"
Fuck off. Coming from probably Rhaenyra's #1 hater. Fuck. Off. Don't say you care about her place in the view of men when you're ready to justify shit like this.
This is the same man who runs off and has an affair with a teenager, and then prefers going on and having a badass death instead of joining his wife and children who need him in King's Landing.
Do I like Rhaenyra? No. Do I think that, because of this, she's never been abused, or exploited in any way, in her life? ALSO no. My distaste for her character has NOTHING to do with Viserys, Criston, Daemon, Harwin or literally ANYONE ELSE in her life.
Alicent Hightower time, baby.
My mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my entire bloodline, my Roman Empire. And more. To anyone who thinks of her as nothing but a bitter/jealous girl, go read @feretrumdulcia 's post about this matter cuz there's literally no one I've seen that words it better. (And bub if you're reading, long live you and the way you think.)
https://www.tumblr.com/feretrumdulcia/720746371814195200/i-have-seen-quite-often-that-many-people-consider
Anyone who can read this and argue that Alicent is envious/jealous or bitter, honestly needs to take the heart shaped sunglasses off, get off tumblr and Ao3, learn what media literacy is and start learning how to possess a crumble of it. To us it makes sense to synpathize with both, because we've seen the big picture. To Alicent, Rhaenyra gave her virtue to the man that almost killed her brother, and chose to believe she did not out of trust and maybe nostalgia for her friendship and easier times, only to have her father be blamed and taken away from her as a result.
She has four kids in the span of, how much? Five, six years? Seven at best? Helaena and Aemond are NINE MONTHS APART. Viserys didn't even let her rest after she gave birth to her daughter. And I'm convinced 100% that he kept her as Idk some whore he didn't need to pay for because it's stated that he never wanted Aegon but the son he butchered Aemma for. Why keep on bedding her and forcing children on her when you'd never get what you want from her?
Throughout the series she's called bitter and downright a c*nt for this and that reason. She tries convincing Viserys that Rhae's children are CLEARLY bastards and she's setting herself and them up for failure by committing treason and putting them on the throne? Nah, power hungry, jealous, bitter. She marries Helaena to Aegon as a last resort because she's Valyrian and probably would've received proposals worse than the ones Rhaenyra made that would eventually convince Viserys to give her away? Hates her daughter, abuser, shitty mom. Rhae's sons slit her son's eye out instead of running when they had the chance and she rightfully lashes out? Nah, crazy ass, for the dungeons. She gives money and moon tea to her son's rape victim to ensure she gets a way out and isn't forced to have a baby she doesn't want? Bruh, rape apologist. She goes to Aegon and RIGHTFULLY disciplines him? Abuser. Forced to show her feet to a rancid filthy man to know where her son is? Upholds the patriarchy, hypocrite. She convinces Aegon to start fighting for her family because it's either them or the Blacks and he needs to start putting his life together and fight for them, so she crowns him and makes him King? Treason, deserves death, long live the brothel queens.
Somehow, it is ALWAYS HER FAULT. And those few that admit how wronged she was make fun of her.
CAN SHE FUCKING WIN?! Or y'all just hate her because she isn't Valyrian?
Btw almost all of these arguments are the same for Book!Alicent who I personally believe to be FAR MORE than just a bitter stepmom that hates her stepdaughter. She arguably has more reasons to start a coup against her in the books without that prophecy shit.
TLDR; It's OKAY to hate characters and admit they're abused and taken advantage of at the same time. You don't have a moral high-ground on no one because you hate or love a character instead of the other.
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blackopals-world · 1 year
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"Maid Crazy"
Maid!FemYuu × Headwardens
Summary: Every girl has a hobby. Yuu's are maids. Sort of an Otaku for maids. She loves dressing as one and collecting different styles. But when everyone finds out they offer her a chance to make her fantasies reality.
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It's more then just a cheap sexy costume. Those don't have the appeal of a true maid. Maids are the noble hardworking women that support a household not just some slave to a lusty master. Beautiful and graceful as the flitted about doing their work.
Yuu squealed in delight as she held up her newest acquisition. A new Victorian Era apron and lace bonnet. All thank to Crowley's credit card which is now her's after some not so idle threats.
Feeling a bit empowered Yuu put on her new set with a black collared dress. She grabbed a broom and began sweeping the the steps of Ramshackle. She felt like a Step Girl working for a small family.
She didn't notice someone had come up the path and saw her.
Riddle- House maid
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He didn't see a problem with Yuu's hobby. If anything he respected it. Maids are diligent and place an importance on order as well as respect.
He offered Yuu a job to work at Heartslabyul where she could show off her skills In a place where it could fit right in.
Cooking and cleaning was a simple job. The uniform Riddle helpfully supplied helped her go unnoticed as she worked.
Yuu's Victorian style red botton up dress that reached just past the ankle and white lace apron over it. Her lace bonnet was replaced with a crown on white roses binded with red ribbons. He had a Heartslabyul student brooch on her apron.
She seemed to blind into the background for most guests in the dorm as though her presence was natural. Not that she minded as he did laundry and fed the hedgehogs.
Teatime was the most important as Yuu would happily prepare the table and load a trolley with cakes and tarts. She felt like a perfect maid as she rolled the cart into the garden.
Riddle his face furn red the moment "Good Afternoon, Master" left her red painted lips. If he had been drinking tea already he probably would have made a mess.
All things considered Yuu took to working in Heartslabyul like a duck to water.
Leona- Chamber maid
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Yuu believed it was rotten luck that put Leona in her path. Unlike most he knew the roles of maids and has the pleasure of having many at home. That isn't necessarily a good thing. He doesn't care about making servant's job easier because it's their job to serve.
He doesn't bother or harass the staff but he certainly doesn't pay them any attention or respect.
That's why when he saw Yuu dressed in her frilly get up all he could see was someone he could use. Not that Yuu minds. What she does mind is his behavior because Leona is nothing but trouble.
Her duties were to wake Leona up in the morning for one thing which is fight on its own. Throwing off his blankets only to find that he sleeps naked.
Yuu had to get used to that and surly from Leona's perspective the novelty wore off due to how quickly she adjusted. Because after a few days she went about pulling out his clothes and other things so she could move on to cleaning and laundry. She had no time for maidenly nonsense of seeing a man in undress when work was to be done. Leona no doubt was disappointed although he was used to it from his maid back home.
Still, Yuu was committed to her role. Fixing Leona's clothes, organizing his stuff and cleaning his room.
Leona become frustrated when he realized that Yuu won't nap with him or even pay him any mind when working. She was too committed to her job that she wouldn't overstep as a servant. So, lame.
Azul- Café Maid/Scullary maid
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Azul had no need of a maid. His room and laundry where neatly done at all times. He was quite alright but the lounge could benefit from the appearance of cute maid. Maid Café were very popular especially for young men who want to gawk at girls.
Of course Yuu vihamenly disagreed to it because she isn't a maid just to be watched. She took it very seriously.
Azul still didn't want to lose out so a deal was made. She would work in the lounge as a busboy cleaning up the tables and seats but she had to wear the attire he chose.
The uniform was kind of short and reached mid-thigh. The color was nice, iridescent purple and blue instead of white and black. The ruffled apron resembled a frilled jellyfish. A person's eyes drew themselves to the seashell shaped bust. Her shoes were mary janes so she could move around easily. Azul even gave her pearl jewelry to wear.
It added traffic to the lounge as she bounced from table to table to clean. It was going well till it wasn't. One of the reasons lest savory characters came was because while cleaning Yuu's dress came dangerously close to revealing things she didn't want to show since she had to bend over. At one point a customer "accidentally" spilled their drink when she went to pick up the cup, and her dress skirt was purposefully flipped. It was funny at first but the laughter ended when Floyd grabbed the guy by the throat.
Yuu was frustrated and crying during the event. She let Azul have it for the costume and not listening to her about Café Maids not being treated with dignity. She quit right there and threw off the jewelry and apron right there in his office.
It took a lot of apologies for Yuu to look Azul in the eye again because she was disgusted by him just as much as the skirt chasers.
Eventually Azul was forgiven but Yuu's role and outfit where changed to be more sensible. She was now a parlor maid. She managed Azul's paperwork and served him coffee. Alongside that she arranged Azul's schedule and meetings. When she wasn't greeting and seating customers and telling the tweels what to do.
A no touching policy was instituted with threats of Jade and Floyd "dealing" with rule breakers.
Kalim- Tweeny
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Kalim was probably one of the ideal people to catch Yuu in maid dress. He's used to servant/master dynamic and already has Jamil.
Making Yuu his maid seemed natural because now he has two of his friends always with him. Which Yuu found to be unintentionally condescending. Kalim was nice but there was a difference between servants and friends due to power imbalances.
The problem with serving Kalim was Jamil. Servents have hierarchies and Jamil and Yuu were not on the same level. She was a low level maid that would have to follow his orders, which she honored rather then rejected.
That meant any task he made she did. If Jamil's role was to take care of Kalim then it was her's to take care of Jamil since she wasn't a personal maid.
It was hard work but she enjoyed it. Kalim still came to check on her when she worked.
Jamil however got ahead of himself and gave her an unreasonable task. She put her foot down for that one. Jamil should know better and he's forgotten that their was a clear difference between them and it wasn't seniority. It was that she chose to do this and was free to leave.
Jamil apologized, he was treating her like how he was treated by older servents. If anything he hated how happy she was to be a servent and didn't understand why anyone chooses a life like this. Yuu liked to help others and was happy to fetch clothes or do dishes.
They didn't understand each other but they understand Kalim and weren't going to fight over something like this. They both had a job to take care of Kalim and must work together for his sake.
Vil-Lady's Maid
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Well if there was someone who could actually need a maid then it's him. He actually finds maids appealing and notes that they have been known for their beauty. However what he doesn't like is the specific style of Yuu's choice. Victoria Era is played out when the French maid was known for their stunning appearance.
He takes Yuu aside and gives her a new role. As a handmaid in charge of taking care of his needs, and he has a lot of needs.
It's not bad but Yuu thinks that Vil underestimates what a personal maid does. From the first moments of the morning, she has already planned his outfit in accordance with the weather, season, and his schedule. His bath is ready and she might not have mentioned that personal maids not only dress their masters but bathe them as well. She had assumed he knew but if he did he probably wasn't expecting Yuu to go through with it.
Vil had to make a diversion for her to keep her from entering the bathroom. He didn't know he was supposed to just dismiss her yet. For all his talk he doesn't know the specifics of what he was asking her to do when he gave her the job. When she returned she wasn't happy to know she couldn't wash his hair properly.
Vil's handsy maid was actually a godsend. Yuu was well versed in etiquette and was gentle and efficient in dressing Vil for the day. She even had him fastened in a corset with little time wasted and only a few ribs bruised.
She styled his hair to his liking and lavished him with complaints as she placed any jewelry he wished on him. His makeup was done perfectly as though he had done it himself.
Yuu had a way on making him feel like the queen he already was. He didn't need to lift a finger with someone to do it for him and to do it gladly.
He did some reading about maids and decided to start giving Yuu old jewelry and clothes that would suit her better. It was actually a sign among maids of how well taken care of they were by their masters. It was a good trade for having someone who makes you the center of their world.
He ensures that his maid looks her best and takes Yuu to photoshoots as his stylist. Though some wonder just how intimate he was with this "stylist."
Idia- Nurse Maid
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Idia has never seen a maids outside of Cons, and animes. They were fictional characters with a SSR ranking. His favorite gotcha game had just released the maid café side story. He just got the new card to show Yuu.
He pretend to not see Yuu wearing her maid attire and immediately when the way he came. His heart couldn't take it.
Idia didn't proposition Yuu to be his maid. Wouldn't dream of it. He's a otaku but he's not a sleazy pervert who makes girls wear stuff for a sick fetish. Not if they aren't in a relationship at least.
It was Ortho who asked Yuu to be a maid for Idia after Idia got sick.
Yuu took on the job gladly. She cooked his meals and fed him by hand. Despite Idia's protests, he couldn't fight her off in his weak state. She kept his room tidy and organized. Idia had a sense of pride despite what people think and being treated like an invalid by a girl dressed as some kind of Cyberpunk maid was honestly...tolerable.
She routinely came to check Idia's fever and cleaning the sweat from his head. Whenever he asked she stayed until he fell back to sleep.
Idia became more dependent on her constant presence. Maybe he should just enjoy every otaku's dream
Malleus-Maid of All-Work
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No,no,no,no! He doesn't like his child of man acting as maid!
It was cute at first watching Yuu sweep without a care in the world. He believed that if Yuu worked near him they would be even closer. But now she was more distant.
If they walk Yuu trails a few paces behind. She was determined to be prim and proper. She no longer called Malleus by the nickname he held so dear, now it was only master. Malleus was used to people calling him master but he hated when she said it.
He didn't have the heart to tell her to stop. She was genuinely happy to play her new role. She smiled as she worked at the dorm without faltering. She cooked great meals and served wonderful tea.
Malleus adjusted knowing that when she was off duty it was as if she wasn't a maid. He just preferred her as Yuu and nothing more.
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