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gojonanami · 6 months

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IS IT OVER NOW? - SUGURU GETO (ft. SATORU GOJO)

summary: suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend. contents: 18+ only, smut, mentions of cheating, swearing, spoilers for vol. 0 + star plasma vessel and premature death arc, so much angst, but also too much smut (gotta earn that smut by getting through the angst), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f + m receiving), slight choking, panty play, overstimulation (f receiving) wc: 11,150 (why do i do this) playlist: is it over now - taylor swift, now that we don't talk - taylor swift, you are in love - taylor swift, say don't go - taylor swift

“It’s over,” the words slipped out of his mouth like second nature, the same way “I love yous” left his lips with a smile against your neck, but now those same lips were in a tight line. His eyes once filled with mirth, now stared at you with nothing in them — nothing but empty truth.

You don’t believe your ears — and how could you? The same man who laid with you on sleepless nights, in the silence of the way home after brutal losses, mornings spent in his wrinkled uniform white button up, stupid arguments ended in laughter, and the whispered promises kept like oaths in your hearts.

But now, they were broken — broken like your heart was.

“It’s over, I’m sorry — I can’t do this anymore,” and you’re stepping forward over this ravine with a snapping tightrope, but he’s on the other side with a lighter and a knife — daring you to cross it. Because he wouldn’t catch you — not anymore, “it’s not you—“

“Don’t give me bullshit assurances, Suguru,” you spit, the same name you had woken up this morning on your lips, all the love he had fostered over two and half years eroding away with his few words — slipping into hatred without another word, “give me a reason, I know Amanai and Haibara hurt you — hell, it hurt me too, but—“

“Don’t bring them up—“ he seethes, the same passion he once had for you — for even a scratch you had gotten from a mission that he promised to make a curse pay for again and again by making it serve him — now used for people who weren’t even here anymore, “it has nothing to do with them,”

And you almost laugh. It had everything to do with them. You had watched him fall apart over this summer — scapegoat the summer heat to Satoru’s face, when it wasn’t the heat that was withering him to nothing — a wilting flower simmered under the heat of loss. And with no one who could reach him — because he wouldn’t let them.

“You know that’s not true—”

“I cheated on you,” and the words die on your lips — along with any hope you had, “it was a stupid mistake but it showed me we can’t keep doing this,”

“You’re lying,” you denied it — no, no, no.

“I’m not,” and you can’t make sense of it, sense of anything, images of him tangled with another assaulting your senses — assaulting your heart, your soul, your body — bile rising in your throat that seared you on the way down as you swallow, “I didn’t want to have to tell you, but if it’s the only way for you to accept this, so be it,”

“Fuck off, you didn’t want to ‘have to tell me,’” hot, angry tears burning at your eyes, “fuck you,”

“Sweet—“

“You don’t get to call me that,” you snarl, heart rattling your ribs, as if it was trying to break through its bony cage, as if puncturing itself on the shards of your bones would hurt less, “not unless you’re trying to fix this,” you bargain, bargain for a love that was already lost.

“We can’t do this — I can’t do this to you,” and you give a watery chuckle, unable to meet his gaze; meet the gaze you once thought was your salvation — the thing you fought day in and day out to come home to, “I’m sorr—”

“Don’t bother,” you bottle the sadness in a barely kept shut box, shoved beneath your icy exterior, ice crawling over the recesses of your shattered soul, “don’t apologize for me for something you chose to do,” and you turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

And you give a terse chuckle, turning to look back, “you don’t get to care anymore, Geto.”

~~~

It was necessary. It was necessary. It was necessary.

That’s what Suguru keeps telling himself. He was caught in a tailspin, a tailspin that was only leading him one place, and he couldn’t take you with him. He couldn’t let that happen. But you keep haunting his thoughts, along with the other ghosts holed up in his head.

He hasn’t seen you in weeks. Only sporadic updates from Shoko when she humored his questions with a bribe of free cigarettes — and he didn’t know what you had told her but he knew you hadn’t told her that he had cheated (because Shoko would have surely ignored him). Shoko had even snuck a picture of you. You had grown your hair out, eyes no longer full of the joy as it once had been, and a cigarette you had said you had sworn you would never smoke between your lips.

And it only makes him want to pull the cigarette from your lips and kiss you again, swallow the smoke poisoning your lungs, hoping your lips would clear the poison from his system. But he couldn’t — he couldn’t go back now. Not when he couldn’t shake the darkness that crept over his soul — he couldn't go back to that spring, because those old days had died along with everyone else around him. Shot through the head just like Amanai.

He stares at the picture and it only makes him more sure — he can’t be in your life. He can’t be yours, he can’t even be your friend — because he can’t pretend it’s just platonic — can’t pretend it means nothing — not when you can see right through him, see the light fading from inside him, and you’d try to save him. Because that’s what you do. So he pays the cost instead, the cost of losing you — of losing your smiles, your laughs, your tears, and your voice.

And he didn’t even have his dignity — he had left that behind when he had lied to your face. Lied because he knew it was the only way you’d leave, and he couldn’t risk you staying. He couldn’t let your fingers dig into his sides, as he let himself drown, he couldn’t watch you choke on water along with him — no, no, it couldn’t happen.

He had long drowned — on that beach in Okinawa.

He got a phone call — Yaga — likely with another mission, and he only can think about Tsukomo’s words — over and over and over. He was treating the symptoms, eradicating curses day in and day out, he himself was a symptom of a broken system — a broken sorcerer.

And he flips his phone open, staring at the screensaver of you and him, your sleepy smile as you look up at the camera nuzzled against his chest — filled with the same love in your eyes that he watched drain from your eyes when he fed you perfectly prepared lies.

“Hello, yes, I’m available for a mission,” he hears Yaga give him the details of the mission on the other line, but it barely registers.

But at least he wouldn’t break you too.

~~~

You wake to a pounding at the door — the one time you had gotten time off, the one time you had taken the vacation you swore you would, the vacation that you would have your phone off, doors locked, no communication with anyone with Jujutsu Tech.

And yet.

There was someone banging on your door at 11:09 PM at night.

You stare at your ceiling at the spinning fan above you, and you couldn’t imagine how this night could get any worse. You throw off your covers, only in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, grumbling as you meander your way to the door to find Satoru, standing at your doorstep.

Your heart drops.

“What— did—“

“Suguru defected,” and you stare at him, as if he’s speaking a foreign language — two words made no sense in that order, no, no — he wouldn’t do that. Suguru out of anyone wouldn’t do that.

“No, that can’t—“ and Satoru comes inside, brushing past you, “Satoru—“

“It’s not just that,” he says softly, “he slaughtered a village, and his parents,” and you’re shaking your head, “why are you shaking your head—“

“What kind of weird prank is this, Satoru— he wouldn’t—“ and your voice dies in his throat as you see the look on his face, and all other words fade away from your lips except one — “why?”

And he explains — tells you what Suguru had told him, what had happened, why he left — “I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” he murmurs, shaking his head, “I should have — if I had done what he did, Suguru wouldn’t have hesitated—“

“He wouldn’t have been able to do that to you, Satoru,” you scoff, leaning against your couch, Satoru sat beside you, “you’re the most important person to him, he wouldn’t have been able to even fathom the idea of hurting you. He would have just tried to convince you to change your mind,”

He gives a bitter chuckle, “Well then, he would have been able to change my mind all the same,” he’s holding his face, as if it would keep himself from falling to pieces — but his hands are too late — you can see the broken pieces of what was Satoru Gojo in front of you.

“Satoru, you can’t put Suguru upon yourself to save — he made the choices he made, you can’t change them. You can’t fix a person who doesn’t want to be fixed,” and maybe you were projecting — but you swore you saw the same pain, the same pain the day he broken your heart in Satoru’s eyes, “Suguru is smart enough to know where this road is leading—”

“And why can’t I completely blame him for choosing it?” he murmurs, his cerulean eyes finally meeting yours over the rim of his sunglasses, “I understand how he feels — so do you, you’ve seen the broken system, the deaths that could have been prevented—”

“But is this the way to fix it with innocent peoples’ blood on our hands?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear his answer, “I have friends who aren’t sorcerers — would he have me slaughter them too?”

“Well, he killed his own parents, so I wouldn’t doubt that,” he shakes his head, “Suguru was never the type to do things half-heartedly,” and his gaze falls again to the floor, “do you know after I had retrieved Amanai’s body — I asked Suguru if we should kill all of those people in the Star Religious Group?”

“Satoru—”

“He said there would be no point in it — no reason,” and he’s licking his lips, pulling his glasses off, “but he found his reason now, didn’t he?”

“Satoru, you had just come off Amanai, almost dying, you had barely a moment to process—”

“Why did he tell me to stop? Why did he save me when he couldn’t do himself the same courtesy?” And he’s rising to his feet, pacing the room, unable to sit still, “I thought I’d come here and talk to you because who else could understand him more than me? Shoko maybe, but even she doesn’t know,” his fists are clenched at his sides, as he whirls to face you again, “Why? I don’t understand how a person can change so much — how can you go from protecting the weak to—”

“Satoru, I don’t know why Suguru does the things he does—did you forget? He broke up with me,” the words reopen old wounds you thought had long scarred over, flesh wounds that had ripped you open, but had closed back up, now bleeding like new, “and he cheated on me,” and walked away without another word — twisting the knife with his silence.

Satoru’s brows knit together, his mouth opening as if to dispute it, but closing again — because if Suguru could murder his own parents, why wouldn’t he cheat on his girlfriend?

“I’m sorry—” and you laugh bitterly, meeting his gaze.

“I think we have bigger problems than his unfaithfulness,” and he says nothing, “what are we going to do about him?”

“Nothing—”

You stare at him, lips parted, “Satoru—”

“I can’t kill him,” his voice breaks, and it breaks you too, “I couldn’t bear it. I can’t be the one to—”

“But you’re the only one who can—” and you swallow the lump in your throat — how could you tell him to kill Suguru when you couldn’t imagine doing it either? “then what do we do?”

“Nothing, for now,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “I’ll monitor his moves as best I can, he’s good at covering his tracks — he knows how I operate more than anyone else does,” he says softly, “but not many can hide from the six eyes,”

“And you know how he does things too, Satoru,” you find your way his side, your fingers finding his, “it will take time for Suguru to make large moves — especially if he has two young children with him right now,” your heart aches at the thought — he promised to marry you one day, promised you a family once you both had settled down enough to consider it, and now he had two kids. But you weren’t with him.

His eyes find yours, “i’m sorry about what happened — I wasn’t there — I haven’t been here, at all—”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Satoru,” and he’s shaking his head.

“Maybe I could have—”

“You can’t fix the whole world, Satoru,” you whisper gently, “you’re the strongest, yes, but that doesn't mean you can be everywhere and do everything,”

“I should have been here,” and you’re shaking your head, “I could’ve—”

“You couldn’t have, do you know how stubborn Suguru is? We couldn’t even convince him to cut his hair, much less change his mind about committing mass murder,” and he sighs, his eyes falling and rising to yours again, “hey, you’re okay, you know. You do too much, honestly, everything you’ve done — everything you will do—”

“And yet it will never feel like enough,” and you feel as if you could hear the same words leaving Suguru’s mouth too — the two had more in common than they had cared to admit.

“You are enough,” and your fingers find his cheek, “just as Satoru, you are,”

And his arms are pulling you into a hug then, head buried in your shoulder, his body consuming you with its warmth, your fingers running through his snowy locks, his tears wetting your shirt, but you say nothing, only holding him.

He pulls back after a few minutes, but his arms still wrapped around you, as he stares at you, barely any evidence of his tears, except for the redness on the tip of his nose, “You’re enough too,”

“I don’t know about that,” you joke, and he’s cutting you off with sharp words and a sharper look.

“You are, sweetheart,” and the familiar pet name makes your heart ache, “you’re more than enough,” and his palm is resting against his cheek, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, “you’re so much more than you even know,”

And your breath catches as he draws near, “Satoru—” you shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. But why did his hands feel so nice against your cheeks? Why were you melting into his touch? Why didn’t you pull away?

“I just want to feel something else,” his hand is sliding into your hair, fingers pressed against your neck, “don’t you?”

And your lips find his first, lips brushing at first — and he’s so soft, his breath catching when you do, your fingers against his cheeks, and he’s pulling you back in again — it’s gravity. Again and again your lips meet, less hesitant with each kiss and each touch.

This shouldn’t be happening. You needed to stop it — Suguru had always teased that his best friend had a thing for you — hell, Satoru had all but admitted it with teasing words and promises to steal you away if Suguru ever had fumbled your relationship. But you knew he’d never would do it.

Or you thought he never would do it.

His hands slide down your body, pulling your hips closer to his, “tell me stop, if you want me to,” he murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I want—”

And you’re kissing him again, pulling him along your living room to your bedroom, “I don’t want to stop,” you breathe, you want something else, you want Suguru’s touch cleansed from your body, you want something more — you want to be wanted.

It had been so long since you had been wanted. The last few months with Suguru felt like an exercise in futility. You barely saw him, much less touched him — mission after mission, and excuse after excuse, piled onto the pyre waiting to burn your love for him alive. How long had it been since you had even kissed him? Each time you tried would end in him pulling away, shaking his head and telling you he was tired.

And he was. He was tired — tired of his work, tired of jujutsu society, and tired of you.

But he didn’t have the courtesy to let you know.

But Satoru…

His fingers are quick to get you naked, deftly pulling your t-shirt over your head, as your fingers tug his jacket off with the same eagerness, “Eager, are we?” he murmurs, half hearted teasing, a ghost of a smile on his lips as you pout, “don’t worry, I am too, baby,” as your fingers tug his sunglasses off, and place them on your nightstand.

You roll your eyes, “Satoru—” and he’s swallowing your retort with his lips — and you can’t help but compare them in your mind, he was so much more aggressive than Suguru was. Suguru’s hands slid over your hips and thighs as if he had all the time in the world, while Satoru’s clung to you desperately, as if you’d dissipate under his fingertips, “should we be doing this? Suguru—“

“Cheated. Murdered. Left us,” And his lips slide from his lips to your jaw, before his teeth graze right under your jaw, drawing a gasp from your lips.

And his lips curl, “Such a pretty noise, just f’me,” and he’s biting and sucking, surely leaving a lovely mark against your skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, “did you make noises like that for Suguru?”

“Satoru—” and his fingers are tugging at your bra, teasing your erect nipples as he’s only tugging the garment down, “fuck—” and his lips kiss your tit, while he’s rolling the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “please,”

“Did you beg him like that too?” his fingers pull at the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin underneath, “no wonder Suguru kept you for yourself,” he’s tugging off your shorts down your legs.

“Can we not talk about him if we aren’t gonna talk—” and his lips find yours again, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, “Satoru—” you gasp as he pulls at your lip, thumb sliding over the kiss bitten flesh.

“How can we not?” he murmurs, as his hands slide up your thighs to squeeze your ass, “is this the bed he fucked you on? Is this the way he touched you?” and he’s parting your thighs, large palms holding you apart, as his half lidded eyes linger on the wet patch on your panties, “is this how wet you got for him? Am I special?”

“Oh, fuck off—” and your words fall away as his finger presses against the wet patch, thumb against your puffy clit while his fingers tease your aching cunt.

“What was that, baby?” and he’s grinning, and he spares you, dragging your ruined underwear down, and he’s leaning down to your sopping pussy only to press teasing kisses to your inner thigh, before his lips press against your clit, “so fucking wet,” and he inhales, a languid moan leaving his lips, “if you taste as good as you smell, I’ll be cumming in my pants before I even fuck your pretty cunt,”

And his fingers sink into you — two at once, making your lips part, teasing your pussy open, the lewd sounds fill your ears as your slick squelches against his fingers, “Hear that? Such a greedy cunt, swallowing my fingers up even when I try to pull out,” and he’s pumping faster now, fingers curling against your walls, making you moan far too loudly, “moaning like that, and I’ve barely even started,” he hums, before his breath is warming your slick cunt as a warning as his tongue begins to lap at your clit, again and again.

“Fuck, Toru, need more—” His other hand is only grabbing you, pulling you impossibly closer as a third finger finds its way into you, and your hips move against his touch, begging him to fuck you in earnest. But he’s unrelenting. You can hear him swallow around you, every flutter of your cunt made just for him, as he nearly growls against you, vibrations only making you nearly grind yourself against his fingers and mouth. His tongue circles your clit, toying with it, before his lips close over it and suck, nearly making you scream, “I’m cummin—”

And his fingers finally find the spot they had been looking for, again and again with deft precision, as your walls clench around his fingers, as you gasp, arching your back, as you cum, and he’s licking your essence up eagerly.

Grinning as he pulls his fingers from you, licking your cum from his digits, before lapping at your leaking cunt, making you twitch around nothing, “Fuck, needy pussy practically begging me to fill you, huh? Hehehe,” he’s looking up at you all fucked out, your thighs twitching, eyes blown out — meanwhile his lips, chin, and nose were painted in your essence, the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen, “didn’t realize how much I wanted this,” and he’s licking up your cum off his face, and wiping the rest on the back of his hand, and he’s climbing back over you, dragging his clothed bulge over your still sensitive cunt, making you both groan, “and I guess neither did you,”

You’re still looking up at him with lust filled eyes, as your fingers find his cheeks, “aren’t you wearing far too many clothes still?” and he’s smiling, “wanna help me out with that, sweetheart?” he asks, as his fingers press your boobs together, thumbs flicking against the abused nipples, cock twitching against your cunt as if he was imaging what it would feel like to blow his load right between them, his warm cum all over your face—

And you’re flipping him in a moment, pinned underneath you, as your fingers undo each button of his now definitely creased white button up, damp with your cum, as your palms drag over the exposed skin of his chest and abs, “Can’t wait to fuck myself on this later,” you murmur, leaning down to drag your tongue up his stomach, making him gasp deliciously, before your fingers busy themselves with undoing his belt, the click of the buckle only making you ache more, as you undo the zipper of his pants, tugging his boxers along with them to bunch at his feet hanging off your too small of a bed, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips.

He’s so fucking big.

Suguru was big, so fucking big that the first time he fucked you, he couldn’t even fit in your tight cunt. He had to give you multiple orgasms, prep you right, stretching you out with his fingers and tongue, and even a dildo, until you could fit himself with lube. And Satoru definitely wasn’t as thick as Suguru, but he made up for that in length — fuck, how deep would that reach? A pretty curve at the end with lovely veins running up that made your mouth water, white pubes dotting along it that were shaved, but grown out — likely from being away on missions for so long.

“You can take a picture, it’d last longer,” and your eyes snap up to the smirk on his lips, “although I tend to last very long,” he’s shrugging out of his shirt and kicking off his pants, before he’s pinning you under him again, “and if you do, maybe I can take a picture of you, full of my cum, my cock fucking it back in — it’s only fair, right, pretty?” and you shiver, as his finally unclothed cock bumps against your cunt, “oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’ll make it my screensaver, you’d like wouldn’t you, filthy girl?”

And your fingers wrap around his cock, finally making him shut up with a hiss, “Gonna talk all night, or you gonna fuck me, Toru?” and he barks out a laugh, but it's consumed by a moan as you stroke him, leaning up to kiss along his jaw, “you gonna fuck the same hole your best friend did? Gonna cum there too?” and he’s thickly swallowing, your words leaving the great Satoru Gojo speechless, “what? If you brought up Suguru, so can I, right? Only fair,” you echo his words, and you’re squeezing around the base of him, “well, are you—”

And he’s pulling your hand away, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock, dragging his pre-cum over your cunt, letting your cum mix together, “Fuuuuuck, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous,” and he’s manhandling you, grabbing your thighs, and hooking your ankles over his shoulders, “gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, any complaints?”

He grins at the way you shake your head eagerly, hips nearly grinding against his cock, and his tip sinks past your walls, “so tight, baby, did Suguru not fuck you right?” You can’t manage a reply, as you grasp at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as he sinks into you inch by inch, his brow furrowed beautifully as he finally bottoms out with a groan, “s’good f’me, so perfect—“ your walls flutter around him, your slick soaking him, and he’s tilting your head by your chin to make you look at where he’s sunk into you.

And he’s pulling out before sinking back in, and you’re gasping and squeezing him — how was he possibly deeper? “Fuck, baby, your cunt is trying snap me half,” and his hips are slapping against you as he fucks you in earnest, the squeaks of your mattress as he thrusts in and out and the lewd squelch of your pussy as it wraps around every inch and vein of his cock, “that’s it, that’s it, take me, take every inch of me,” and his balls are slapping against your ass, “did you take Suguru this well? Did you ever take anyone this well?”

And you’re a mess of just moans as he’s fucking you again and again, as he cups your chin, “I didn’t hear an answer or did the I fuck the words out of you too, baby?” He’s kissing you again, swallowing your noises with lips curled, before he’s pulling away with a groan, “can’t hear myself think with how loud you are — so fucking wet,”

“S’close, Toru, I-“ and he’s grunting, nodding, as he watches you, his cerulean eyes stare at you, right as his tip brushes your cervix—

“Cum for me baby, let me watch you cum around my cock,” and his fingers reach down between the two of you and rub against your clit, making your eyes roll back, as you fall apart around him.

Your walls are fluttering around him as you cum, moaning his name on your lips, as he pistons in and out again and again, thrusts stuttering as your walls squeeze him tight, “baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want me—“

“Inside—please need to feel you cum—“ and you’re moaning, pulling him impossibly closer, and he’s sinks deep into you, and cums. He’s spurting his thick load into you, fucking it into you deeper and deeper, until you’re so full of him and his cum, you can barely feel anything else.

He’s slipping your legs off his shoulders, before collapsing on top of you, sinking into your arms. He’s pulling out, watching your mixed releases slip out of you with a groan, “how are you so fucking perfect?” He’s finding your lips in a kiss, before his nose nuzzles your neck, as your highs wear down.

Your fingers run through his white strands, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” And he laughs, settling on your chest. And for a moment you forget — you forget the nights you spent with Suguru in this bed, the nights spent in tangled sheets with whispered nothings, with his arms around you, just like Satoru’s were now.

But only for a moment.

And as Satoru’s soft snores filled your ears, the only thing on your mind was the one person who you wanted in your bed right now.

~~~

“Still asleep?” your fingers run through his hair, “such a lazy-bones on your days off,” and your lips trace over his jaw, making his lips curl despite the draw of sleep, “gonna leave me hanging after last night?”

And your lips find his, sliding over his with practiced ease, the same way you breathed — it was natural, as his fingers find purchase in your hair, sliding back to your neck. Again and again, your lips cannot part his, if you can’t breathe without him — cannot exist without his touch.

And when you do part, he’s smiling, black fringe falling in his eyes, “So needy in the morning,” Suguru’s voice is gravelly with sleep, even as your fingers card through his black locks, “when did you become such an early riser? Usually I’m the one dragging you out of this bed kicking and screaming,”

Usually, but he’s the one who's struggling out of bed these days. He’s struggling to even function — lifting his arms in the shower feels like too much effort — and what’s the point? Would anything change if he left his bed today? Couldn’t he escape into the recesses of his unconscious for the rest of the day?

But you’re here — and you’re leaning over him, your lips curled in that smile that damned him into submission, because what could he do except submit to you — “who said anything about leaving this bed?”

But he needed to leave this bed, he thought, as your lips found his again — and how did you always taste so sweet? — he needed to leave these warm covers and inviting embrace. Because he couldn’t stay here.

He couldn’t stay with you.

But then your lips find his, and he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re climbing on top of him, straddling his waist, his growing bulge tenting in his boxers. He can he stop when you’re murmuring his name like that, eager fingers tugging the damp fabric down, letting his dick slap against his stomach — a bead of precum that you lean down, your tongue darting out to taste.

And he hisses, as your fingers wrap around him, teasing the head of his cock, thumb dragging over the slit, “sweetheart—“ he's warning — but you know he’s all bark and no bite — but he would be biting you later surely, with the way you toy with him — both his cock and his feelings.

Your mere presence in his bed has him questioning himself — questioning how necessary is it to end things? Why does he need to? He had this future planned — a certain way things were to go — he was the strongest, him and Satoru, he was going to work and settle down later, marry you, maybe even a kid or two — but now — the plans had changed.

He had changed.

Satoru was the strongest. Not him. And work as a sorcerer was killing him now, as you and Satoru were sent farther and further away, and Shoko had resigned herself to medicine — what did he have? Another year of this hell — he didn’t even know if he could last another day of swallowing curses. It had become second nature to him, but without a purpose, without a reason without any principles to guide him — it became worse than torture.

It was his personal hell.

And yet, as your soft lips closed around his leaking tip, fingers playing with his balls, as you sank your mouth onto him, drawing soft moans from his lips — he didn’t wanna give it up. How could he, when you were here? He could burn his life down to ash, watch what he worked for, what he had thought was his purpose fall to pieces in front of him — let himself fall to pieces — but that would mean burning you along with it.

And could he bear that?

Your tongue flicked against his length, tracing his veins as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him, as his fingers settled in your hair, “fuck, sweetheart, s’fucking good f’me,” and his hips shallowly thrust into your mouth, “take me so well, practically swallowing my dick,” and you swallow around him, pulling a moan from his mouth, his eyes flitting down to see the telltale press of your thighs together, “such a filthy girl, look at you, probably dripping wet from sucking me off,”

And he’s tugging you off, strings of spit and his precum connecting your lips to his aching dick, “Sugu—“ your lips are red and puffy, parted still, with cum and spit slipping down the corner of your mouth.

And he’s pulling you on top of him, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, hissing as the damp fabric of your far too thin sleep shorts press against his still sensitive cock, “don’t even have to get you ready baby, already all prepped from just tasting me, aren’t you?”

He shouldn’t be doing this — he told himself today would be the day, he promised himself he’d stop pretending everything was fine. But when you felt so perfect on him — soft skin and soft sighs, your little gasp you gave when his fingers slide his t-shirt — the one full of small holes you had stolen from him when you first spent the night that you refused to throw out — up and over your head, exposing your chest to him — how can he stop?

“Suguru, please,” you whimpered as his mouth took one nipple in his mouth, warm tongue flicking against the pebbled flesh before his teeth graze it, pulling another hallowed moan from your lips, “need you,”

“Do you?” He hums, half teasing, half truthful — did you need him? Would you fall apart when he left? Would he spend nights wondering if you were anxious without him? Spend days wondering how you were filling them without him?

And you pause, strange look on your face, as your eyes scan over his features, palm sliding over his face, “of course I do,” passion falls away for a moment replaced with a different intimacy, “you’re my best friend,” and your lips slide over his as you lean down, “I’ll always need you, even when we’re both dust — I hope we spend it bathed in sunshine together,”

But would you? His eyes can’t meet yours — because he can’t see the sun in his future, only a dark descent into madness — a future spent alone. Because even with your smile at the end of his days, he couldn’t imagine spending another minute doing thankless work for miserable, ignorant, weak monkeys, only to do it all over again the next day. And his silence has you questioning him, but it’s like water fills his lungs, paralyzed by his own thoughts, and even as concern fills your eyes, he still can’t find anything to say.

So you say it instead.

“C’me here,” you murmur, and your hands slide over him, “I love you,” you kiss him all over his face — his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, before your lips hover before his, “can I—“

And he’s flipping you under him, pressing bruising kisses to your lips, as his fingers snake between your thighs, “you don’t need to ask— you never need to ask me,” he whispers in the dark, but even so, he knows — it can’t stay like this — even as he pulls your shorts down to bunch around your ankles and presses his leaking tip your messy folds — it can’t — because you were meant to live in the sunshine.

And he hilts himself in you fully, inch by inch, until he’s groaning your name in a grunt — and he belonged in the dark silence.

He knows this would be the last time. It would be. Because he had to — he couldn’t wait. It was only a waiting game until he was called to another mission, time until he dragged himself lower — until he couldn’t blame the heat for his dark bags under his eyes and the lost weight.

He had to.

And as he fucks you to your orgasm, instead of your lips moaning his name, your hard eyes meet his, lips parting, “I hate you—“ and his hands curl around your neck, “I hate lying traitors,” you choke out as his fingers squeeze your neck.

SNAP.

And he jolts awake, as whispers fill his ears, as his heartbeat slows, “Master Geto?” His eyes flicker over, spotting Nanako and Mimiko trying to snap a chocolate bar in half, “can you help us?”

A dream. It was a dream.

And he’s helping the girls, as they curl up beside him, “are you okay, Master Geto? You were talking in your sleep,” Nanako asks, ever curious, “you looked like you were having a bad dream,”

“I was,” he admits, eyes fixed downward, trying to force the image of you choking below him from his eyes, “about someone I used to know,”

“Who?” Mimiko pipes up, nibbling on her chocolate, and he sighs, running his hands through their hair, a bittersweet smile on his lips — he could still feel your lips against his, the smell of your sweat, the feel of your body.

“Someone I loved — who I left, but I guess…I guess I miss them,” why was he spilling his guts to these two little girls? Ones who had been through far too much to hear about his petty problems.

“Then why don’t you talk to them?” Nanako asks, “maybe you can tell them to live with us,” and his lips curl sadly.

“I don’t think she would want to talk to me,” and why would you? After what he had said, what he had done, and what he was going to do.

“You can try,” Mimiko says, she bites a chunk out of her share of the chocolate bar, “you tried to save us and you did — maybe you can do the same thing — save her,”

And he considers it — maybe he didn’t have to drag you down. Maybe he wouldn’t be — maybe he’d be saving you. Saving you from a system that would only land you in a pile of bodies — just like Riko, just like Haibara.

Maybe — maybe he could. Maybe he could be enough for you. Enough for you to leave. Enough for you to stay. He could have his family — and have you too.

~~~~

He still had your key.

You hadn’t bothered to ask for it back — maybe you had forgotten, maybe you didn’t care — but a part of him hoped it was for another reason, maybe you wanted him to come back.

Even so, he didn’t know if it would still work — maybe you had the foresight to change the locks — but it does, sliding into the lock with ease, as the tumblers slide into place and he’s turning the knob into a silent apartment. And it plants a stubborn seed of hope in his chest, maybe it wasn’t so crazy — aside from breaking and entering — maybe he would find his way back to you.

You’re likely on your walk this morning still — the same way you started the weekend, a walk and visit to your local coffee shop where you got the same order each time, and then you’d spend an hour browsing the shops for something to read or make. He scans the apartment — he knows you’re on vacation this week, from what Shoko had told him last, before he had spoken to Satoru. You hadn’t heard of his news, but you probably did now — if Shoko hadn’t told you, he knew Satoru would have.

And he wonders how that conversation went. Wondered how angry you were. Wondered how much you must hate him now — maybe you even wanted to kill him. But the logical side of him knew you didn’t have the skill to do so — you were a grade 1 — a cut above the rest, but still, your abilities weren’t enough, but emotionally…he may let you kill him, if only to spare him the agony of having to kill you — but he knew it’d kill you just the same.

He can see his days spent here before — you had finally moved off campus, convincing Yaga to let you have your own place early before graduation. You two had celebrated being free of dorm rooms with far too little space and too thin walls (too many times Satoru had spoiled the moment by either banging on the wall, blasting polka music, or just with smug remarks about yours and Suguru’s lack of sleep). He sees himself sitting at the kitchen counter, your stools pressed close as the two of you read the paper together, or laughed about something Shoko had texted or something stupid Gojo had done to piss off Yaga over burnt toast you had only burned while he’s pressing his lips to you. Or evenings spent on the couch cuddling while a bad movie he had picked played, but he’s more preoccupied with teasing you with brushes of his fingers against your bare skin or burying his face in the crook of your neck. And nights spent in your bed, entangled together, his arms around you listening to you breathe, skin dappled in the moonlight that streamed in from the window, wondering how did you ever exist at the same time as him?

And then the front door swings open, as he steps out from the bedroom, and he hears a bag slip falling to the floor, groceries spilling out, and his gaze finds yours, “What—”

“I came to see you,” he moves closer, and you step back — and he’s stopping, he doesn’t see fear in your eyes, he sees hurt — and he almost thinks maybe fear would pain him less.

“Well, I’m here,” you cross your arms, unable to quite meet his eyes, “anything else?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You don’t get to call me that, Geto,” your words were sharp as a knife, and you were trying to cut — and you did, deep. He bites back the sting, as he stares at you — your hair was longer, your eyes had bags, but your lips were twisted with pain, when normally it’d be quirked in a smile pressed against his cheek, “what do you want? Unless I should just save myself the trouble and call Satoru or Yaga?”

“I came to get you,” he steps forward slowly, and you don’t move away this time, “let’s be together. I—”

“You murdered people, you murdered your parents, you left Jujutsu Tech, you broke my heart, you broke Satoru’s and Shoko’s — and you want me to come with you?” you shake your head, barking out a harsh laugh, “did you lose your grip on reality between all the damage you’ve caused?

“If you let me explain—”

“And why should I let you? Your silence these past months was enough for me, you not fighting for us was enough for me, you spiraling without letting me help you was enough for me,” and your voice breaks, “and you cheating on me was enough for me, enough for me to know it’s over.”

“It’s not over, it’s not. I tried to force it to be over. I lied to you, I lied to myself, and said it was over, but it’s not, it’s not,” and he’s so close in a moment, and he can smell the familiar scent of your perfume mixed with your sweat — lavender, hibiscus, and something all the more sweeter, “not when it’s us,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, “please—”

“Don’t do this,” you’re shaking your head, again and again, “don’t, don’t, don’t, please—”

“How can I not? How can I not when I was foolish enough not to the first time, pretty?” he’s murmuring, “I love you, I do, I never stopped,”

“No, you don’t—”

“I do, I do, I know I said a lot of things, I need you to know, I need to explain, if you just let me—” and his fingers are sliding along your jaw, and finds uneven skin, and his eyes lingers, as his fingers tilt your chin up to find a fresh hickey left underneath.

“I—” and he’s drawing you close, so close, his dark eyes narrowed to slits, a deadly silence that makes your skin prickle under his gaze, until he’s warming your lips with his breath.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” but the telltale sign of your breath catching, your chest heaving against his, your lips parted as your eyes can’t pull away from him, his grip is slack enough for you to pull away — but you don’t.

You can’t.

And his lips hover before yours, warming your own with his heated breath, “Kiss me, baby,” and your cheeks warm, butterflies erupting in your stomach, heat blooming wherever his other hand sneaks, dragging over your sides.

“Why should I?” you’re grumbling, but you’re staying right where he has you — right in his arms, and you don’t know why, “you want to kiss me so bad so you do it,”

And he clicks his tongue, fingers sliding behind your head, weaving into your hair and against the soft skin of the back of your neck, tugging you closer, “you kissed someone else with those lips, tasted them, maybe a day or two — were you this bratty with them?”

“Oh fuck off, Suguru, you’re one to talk—“ and his lips swallow your bitter words, tasting them on your tongue, as he parts your lips with a rough squeeze of your hips. And his lips only quirk when your moan rumbles against him, his calloused palms sliding between your thighs.

“You open your legs this easy for them?” he says when he’s pulling away from your mouth, thumb dragging over your swollen spit soaked lips, “how’s that fair? I’m your first, baby, and I’ll always be your favorite—“

And any retort is lost as his teeth drag over your jaw, lips closing right over the hickey he had hated so much, normally calm eyes filled with dark contempt, and he’s biting down, pinching your already bruised skin between his teeth, sucking and soothing with his tongue, “Mine, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nod wordlessly, and his fingers slide forward, wrapping around the front of your neck, thumbing the hollow of your throat, “Use your words,” and there was something darker — something he had let you have glimpses of in moments of missions, of arguments, even in bed — but it wasn’t a glimpse now — it was the whole goddamn picture above you.

“I’m yours, Suguru,” you manage, words strangled by a moan as his lithe fingers tug at the waistband of your panties, making them rub against your drenched cunt, “please—”

“So pliant now, aren’t you?” he hums, as he pulls harder, making the wet fabric rub against your aching clit, “maybe I should make you cum this way, don’t know if you deserve my fingers or my mouth yet,”

You’re a mess — mind swimming in the need for pleasure, why did it always feel so right with him? So perfect. It shouldn’t be. He cheated on you. He slaughtered humans. He left you. He left you without telling you anything of what was plaguing him, until it was too late.

It was too late. He was too late.

So why were you letting his hands tear your panties apart as he fucked you with them?

Because — your fingers reach for his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, as your lips parted and met — it was Suguru.

It was always Suguru.

“Please, Suguru, I need you, need more—ngh—” and the fabric of your panties snaps under his fingers, as he’s ripped them off, pocketing them without another word.

“Did you let him touch you?” he’s kissing down your body, wet kisses, his lips lingering at your pebbled nipples, sucking one, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger, before he switches, kissing down your stomach — tongue teasing your belly button — before he’s finally settling between your thighs, his fringe unrulier than ever, strands of his long hair slipping from his bun, “Answer me, sweetheart,” he orders, as he presses mean fingers to part your thighs for him, surely leaving bruises with how hard he’s holding your soft flesh.

“I did,” you can’t manage the words to tell him who — how can you tell him his best friend fucked you? That you let Satoru fuck you the night you found out he left. It was one thing for him to cheat with a random person, it’s another for you to go and sleep with his best friend, “Suguru, please—”

“Mouth or fingers?” and you swear, despite them not speaking, they still share the same dumbass brain cell—

“What the fuck does it matte—” and your words are cut off by Suguru slipping in two fingers at once into your leaking cunt, fucking you meanly as he watched your mouth fall open, head tilted back as your hips jerked against him, desperate for more. His fingers curled as they fucked your hole open with rapid thrusts, the squelch of your cunt going straight to your head and straight to his already hard cock.

“It fucking matters because this is my pussy, isn’t it, baby? I fucked it first, I fucked it best, and I need to know what others did while I was gone, don’t I?” and a third joins the other two, pulling another moan from your lips,“but if you won’t tell me, I’ll just use both, fuck you with all five fingers and tongue if that’s what you want to do,”

“Sugu—” you’re already so fuckin’ close, your walls shuddering around his cock, “I’m—“ and he stops moving, smiling down at your open mouth twisting in a scowl, “fuck—“

“That’s what we’re trying to do, baby, but I’m not gonna let you cum that easy,” he coos, his curled lips leaning down to lap at your cunt, warm tongue dragging up your clit, before sucking lightly, making you squirm, “tell me you want me,”

“Your fucking ego—“ and he’s plunging three fingers into your messy entrance, making you gasp — god, you hated how good he felt — his fingers bullying your insides with practiced ease, “Sugu— please—“ as his tongue teases your clit, flicking it, before his teeth nibble at it. You’re squirming in earnest now, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue.

He laughs, pulling his mouth from your cunt, lips glossy with your pre-cum,“How quick you’re going from cussing me out to begging me to cum,” you don’t care anymore — you need to cum, “tell me what you want, Princess,”

“Need to cum, please, please, Sugu—ah—“ and he’s sinking one more finger in you, before his lips close around your clit and suck, hard. Your back arches as something in you snaps, as the squelching and slurping of his fingers and sucking send you over the edge. You flood his mouth and fingers with your cum, squirting all over him, as he eats you out and fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as you clench around his tongue and fingers. Your thighs shake and quiver in his grip, fingers holding you still in place, as he keeps overstimulating you, “too much, can’t—“ you cry out, shaking your head, but he’s not relenting until you feel something build in again — more and more, until his fingers find that one spot in you that has you silently screaming as you cum again, even harder than the first. You’re soaked — soaked the sheets through, chest rising and falling as the pleasure ebbs away, tears slipping down your cheeks, folds fluttering as he pulls his fingers out.

His breath warms your dripping cunt, lips glossy and eyes dark, groaning as he watches your cum slip from inside you, as he looks up at you with a dark, half lidded gaze, “So fucking good for me, even hotter when you cry,” he’s licking his lips clean of your cum, before he’s pressing the pads of his fingers into your open mouth, “clean them f’me, baby,” and your tongue swirls around him obediently without question, pretty eyes glassy with tears making his rock hard cock twitch in his pants, “good girl,”

And he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth, before leaning up and pulling off his black sweater, the click of his belt as he kicks off his pants, your eyes glued to his thick cock — he was thicker than Satoru, so pretty too — black pubes groomed, nearly pressed against his stomach.

“Always so desperate for my cock, aren’t you, Princess? I’ll let you clean your cum off of it after, but I have to have you first — got to reclaim what’s mine,” and he’s dragging his cock against your clit.

You gasp, twitching against him, but more than the pleasure, the guilt creeps in — flashes of Satoru from the night before with hands over your hips and thighs, and you had kept quiet about your life from the time you spent away. You had done your best to stay away from Suguru, even though you knew he hadn’t exactly done the same — asking Shoko questions, for pictures, for any scrap of you.

And you couldn’t lie — not about this.

“Suguru,” and he’s pausing, eyes meeting yours with a flash of concern, but the words tumble out with warning, just the way he had done with you, “I slept with Satoru,”

And he’s silent — emotions roll in and out on his face — confusion, hurt, anger, and acceptance — they all fall away as he’s only staring off to the side, unable to even look at you. Words fall away, stopped in your mouth after the bitter truth that’s left it and you wonder — is it over now? Seconds feel like hours — your fingers curl into the sheets, looking for something to hang onto, to ground you. Why did he have to start this? You were fine with the burnt ashes of the love he had scorched over, but now he started a fire, and you didn’t want to put it out. You didn’t want to go out.

You didn’t want him to go.

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes finally find yours for a moment, before he’s kissing you again and again and again, bruising kisses that slaughter any sense of logic and words from you — but his message is clear, he doesn’t wanna talk, especially as his hand reaches does to brush his aching tip against you, smearing his pre-cum over the length of you.

And he’s sinking into you, and somehow you’re still so tight around him, “Fuck,” he hisses, the first word that leaves his mouth, “did Satoru not fuck you right last night?” and your lips part as he thrusts harshly and smoothly, bottoming out with one single movement, “still as tight as when I took your virginity, aren’t you, baby?”

“Suguru,” you’re so full, he’s so thick, and these last few weeks without him almost had your cunt forgetting what he felt like filling you — his hands gripping your thighs to press them back against your stomach, as he pulls back only to slam back in, making you head loll back, “s’good, s’full,” it’s all you can feel, all you can think about, was him, just him.

“That’s right, I’m the only one who can fill you like this, the only one that makes you feel this good,” the sounds of his hips slapping against you send more heat flooding downward, as he grunts, watching himself piston in and out of you, “take me s’well, my good girl, mine,” he growls, “squeezing me so tight, never want me to leave this sweet cunt, do you?” your thighs shake as he presses them back, balls slapping against your ass, as he only sinks deeper and deeper, “could fuck you all night, don’t hide that face from me,” he’s forcing you to hold his gaze as he fucks you — your glassy eyes blown out with pleasure, your kiss ruined lips parted for him as you panted and moaned, forehead glossy with sweat, “wanna watch you cum around my cock, wanna see you scream my name, pretty baby,”

His hand slides behind your ass, grabbing a fistful and finding a better angle before slamming back in, and with his filthy words, its enough to have you cumming with his name on your lips, “Sugu—fuck, Suguru!” your voice goes to a pitch you didn’t know it could reach. Toes curling as your gummy walls swallow him in, your pretty mouth forms an ‘o’ and he grunts, imagining those lips around his cock, his thrusts growing sloppy as he fucked you through your orgasm. His dick was soaked, his precum mixing with your cum.

But he wasn’t done yet.

He’s slapping your clit, making you jolt, as he’s still pressed inside you, “Sloppy fucking girl, I know you have one more for me,” and you’re so fucked out, he’s guiding your legs around his lower back and hips, making you gasp, “gonna cum in this perfect princess cunt,”

“Sugu, can’t, It’s too muc—” you nearly sob, but he’s already fucking you, thrusting again and again. And it doesn’t take long for another orgasm to build, already far too sensitive from your last. It’s too much — the feeling of his hips slapping against yours, the feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls, the small moans that your tight cunt pull from his lips, and when his tip brushes against that perfect spot, as his thumb bears down on your clit — it’s too much. You see stars as you cum again, even harder, the loud squelch as he fucks you still pulls a deep groan from his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby, gonna make a mess of you, fill you up,” he’s grunting, and you’re only nodding and moaning “yes,” still fucked out from your orgasms, but it’s enough for him notch himself deep in you and cum, painting your womb white, as he spurts his seed inside you.

And his hips stutter, as he eases your legs down, still shaking and quivering from being fucked, and he rubs them, as you pant, his fingers then reaching to wipe your tears, as he eases himself out, groaning as he watched your mixed cums leak out of your cunt.

“Suguru,” you murmur, and he’s leaning over you, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your hand reaches for him, cupping his cheek, “I love you,” and you do — you always loved him, you always would — there was never anyone else. Only him. But the words can’t find their way out of your mouth, sleep calling for your attendance, as your fingers run through his hair, pulling his hair tie off, and carding their way through his long hair, “I love the long hair,” you hum, eyes fluttering and heavy with sleep.

“Do you?” His voice is gravelly, as he leans down, his lips finding your own for moment, before reaching for a bath towel you had slung over your metal bed frame, as he cleans you up, “how much?”

“Too much, Sugu,” he chuckles softly, as he finishes cleaning you and himself up, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, as he moves to get up and put the towel in the hamper — your hand catches him by the wrist, “Don’t go,”

And his gaze softens, as he shakes his head, “I’m just taking this to the hamper, I’ll come back to bed,” and your lips form an unfairly cute pout, but you relent, letting him walk away to the bathroom to dispose of the towel, and when he comes back, you’re already asleep, curled up.

He stands in the doorway, watching your chest rise and fall — and he’s walking over, pulling your comforter over your body, as he holds it open for himself, pausing, only to let it fall and settle on your side.

He couldn’t ask you to come with him. Couldn’t whisper those words in the night, because you couldn’t save him from the dark — not you, not Satoru, not a single person. Because he wasn’t cut out to live in this world with a smile on his face — and you always deserved to have one on your lips. And Satoru could do that for you. Not him.

It was never him. He was never good enough — his fingers trace over your cheek, pressing another kiss to your forehead — not for the jujutsu world, and not for you.

And he turns to leave, sparing a single glance at you — but he’d make a place for him. And maybe for you — make a world that’s safe for them to live in. Where he didn’t have to watch you join the other bodies piled up around him.

He’s pulling the door shut to your apartment softly, his key left on the table.

It was over.

~~~

“You’re late again, as usual,” Suguru smiles, slumping down against a wall, “Satoru,”

“The ones in Kyoto, they were under your command?”

“Yes, they all were,” he sways, holding his shoulder, he didn’t have much time left — he couldn’t feel anything, even as he held his wound, he felt nothing — no pain, no anger, no hatred, “no matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys,” and his thumb brushes lightly over his shoulder, “but I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School,”

“Did you not? Could’ve surprised me,” and his head turns slowly behind Satoru, and he sees you — sees you for the first time in a decade. Even at his visit to Jujutsu High, you weren’t around — away on a mission, just as he had intended.

Satoru only sighs, sparing you a glance, “I told you not to come here—”

“And I told you that I needed to see him,” you brush past Satoru, kneeling by Suguru — and he can’t take his eyes off of you — he had seen pictures, ones he had his twins take (not wanting those money grubbing monkeys to have even an image of you), and he saw you had done quite well for yourself after he had left. A teacher, just like Satoru — trying to foster a new generation of sorcerers — he was right, you were just like him, weren’t you? And he watches as your brow furrows, scanning over his injuries, gears grinding, but he has to halt them right then and there.

“There’s no saving me now, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, “but you know that already, don’t you?” he takes an unsteady breath, leaning back against the wall, his eyes falling over you again, “still so beautiful — how’s that possible?”

“Not beautiful to stick around for though, am I?” your words aren’t laced with bitterness so much as it’s a question, a question of why he had left you. Why did he never had come back.

“But beautiful enough to always stay faithful to,” his words are soft, “I don’t have many regrets, not any at all truly in retrospect, but I did lie to you about cheating—”

“I know,” your hand uses your sleeve to clean some of the blood on his face, scarlet on your palm, “I realized once I thought about it — and I’ve had plenty of time to think about you, Suguru,” your fingers trace his jawline softly, “because thoughts were all you left me with,”

“Not all I left you with,” his eyes slide back to Satoru and back to you, lips curled in a smile, “you two were always more better suited than I ever was to you, princess,”

“Suguru—” Satoru starts, but Suguru is shaking his head.

“It’s rude to interrupt a person’s last words, Satoru,” he clicks his tongue, and his lips curl as he finds your gaze again, your eyes glassy, “don’t look like that, sweetheart,”

“Suguru, why did you have to leave?” and he’s shaking his head slowly, resting it against the wall behind him.

“Because I didn’t belong there — I couldn’t live in this world with a real smile on my face,” and his hand reaches for you, but stops, falling back to his shoulder, and tears slip down your cheeks, “but with you, I came close,” he murmurs, and he knew it was time, “Satoru,” and that’s all he had to say to have Satoru start to pull you away.

“No, no, please—” you’re shaking your head, trying to push past Satoru, but you slump in his arms, “I love you, Suguru, I always will,”

And he gives a small chuckle, lips curled in that smile that always damned you — “At least curse me at the end,”

But you never could, as you step away, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear the distant splatter of blood. And you knew — you knew you would have stayed forever, stayed with him forever, if he only had told you not to go.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The two of you bury him, somewhere secluded, where no one would find him. The cold ground was hell to dig up, but the two of you managed somehow, each shovelful feeling like a funeral march with no end in sight. Neither of you could bear the thought of his body being poked and probed for its secrets, before being burned, turned to the ash and smoke, the very same he had left your lives in when he had torched it all to the ground. But even so, you couldn’t bear it — and as you look at the mound before you, you want to claw his body up — dig him up as if it would bring him back to life, pull whatever being or force out of the sky and make them give him back.

But you can’t — it’s over.

Satoru’s hand finds your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, burying your face in his chest, as he holds you tight to his chest. And he’s leading you away from Suguru, a single flower left over his grave, as the cold air freezes the tear stains left on your cheeks.

It’s over now. It was over now, right? Right?

And it was.

Until Shibuya.

a/n: this was supposed to be 3K, and ended up being over 10K. story of my life. this fic is thematically sponsored by 1989 (taylor's version), in particular, the vault tracks that helped me write this. you can literally spot lyric references almost throughout the entire thing

tag list: @ghostkonigkeegan141, @lightblueexorcist, @aemondseyesocket, @lemonpoppy-seed, @stran-dedforyou, @tiaraqueen123, @sun-daddy-yoriichi, @grooveandshit, @prettyabc, @kaskasi, @moranguitosz, @haunting-venus, @ninneko19, @psychicai, @d1rtv, @forest-fruits-jam, @katie91239, @dud3vil, @robynnikole151, @ivory-cove, @ohbi-the-way, @numbinyourchest, @dabisdolly, @kal0pssiaa, @glaceliy, @3atinguout, @iovesatoru, @imthebestbye-blog, @michelleeveline, @ichikanu, @ummcumfurtable, @collectionofdolls, @auraeum, @reesesnieces, @goldfishsmemory, @itshobiscussposts

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cas-writes-stuff-ig · 2 months

Text

Regina's Pet

CONTENT:

Word Count: 10,210 words

f!/nb!reader x regina george (dom!regina sub!reader)

-reader and regina smoke weed and cigarettes, but reader has never used a bong before

-drinking

-the reader has a shoulder tattoo and Regina finds

-cady and janis are friends with the plastics

-smut (she collars you later) (mommy kink) (degrading and praise) (semi-public stuff) (a bit of BDSM) (she eats you out and fingers you, and she rides your face) (edging and overstim)

-gross guy hitting on Regina, reader helps her

-fluffy shower aftercare

-she dates you in the end

-regina is kinda more nice here, but she still calls you a dumbass

(btw the smut is at the beginning and the end if you want to skip to it, but there's a lot of teasing build-up between there.)

Hi, i’m really new to writing so sorry if its shitty. I hope you like it. I might make a Part 2

(small unrelated note: I accidentally posted this while I was still writing it out yesterday, mb to those 15 people who saw this and didn't read the finished version, I'm kinda new to writing on Tumblr [i also haven’t written anything since i was 13 so bear with me])

——————————————————————————————

In university you were more or less a wallflower, leaned against a wall near the kitchen counter watching people come and go with drinks, watching the dance floor. Your friends had disappeared somewhere in the house leaving you unintentionally. It was Friday, and the night was young.

You looked into your red solo cup and downed it all, then walked to the kitchen counter to pour yourself another cup of liquid courage with coke.

Just as you were about to resume to leaning against a wall a hand tapped your shoulder from behind and you saw her, Regina George. You assumed she just came from the crowd of people dancing since you hadn’t seen her before that.

She’s been in some of your lectures and had taken a liking to you, her normal spot was always near you or next to you, so you could share notes, but she always had friends around her. With others, she was snarky but with you she was snarky in a more friendly-flirty way. You couldn’t tell if she was actually flirting or not. But she often invited you out to study outside of class.

She was taller than you and you looked up a bit at her, then she stepped forward and you stepped back against the wall “Hey little wallflower,” she grinned as she saw your face of surprise, “Didn’t expect you to be here” and looked you up and down. This was one of the only times you saw her in a non-educational setting.

While of course she looked stunning, you looked down at your own outfit and scratched the back of your head, you wore just a T-shirt partially tucked in jeans. “Yeah kind of, I don’t know where my friends went. I got a little lost.” You admitted.

“You smoke?” she asked.

“Weed or Nicotine?”

“Either, I’ve got both if you want” her voice enticed you like a siren call.

Tired of standing around watching like a loner you nod “Preferably weed right now, just warning you, I’m a bit of a lightweight, but sure” you said

“Hmm, okay loser, c’mon” Regina smirked took your free hand, and led you through the crowd toward the side yard, where two girls were sitting around a table passing a bong, finishing up a bowl. You recognize them as part of Regina’s pack of friends, but you never formally talked to them.

Regina let go of your hand, “Hey guys you know Y/N, Y/N you know Gretchen and Karen right? Right.” she sat down on an empty chair and beckoned you to sit in the empty one next to her.

Gretchen stood “Actually we were just about to go get more drinks and find Cady and Janis, we’ll be back Gina” Karen also stood and handed Regina the bong and the lighter.

When they were out of earshot you whispered nervously to Regina, “Um, Regina? I’ve smoked weed but I’ve never used a bong before” you were bright red wondering if she’d judge you or something.

She had stared packing a small bowl and laughed at you a little “Sweet little thing” her voice was flirty but you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol in both your systems. She turned back to you “Move closer to me, I’ll help you” she ordered. You pushed your chair toward Regina and sat in front of her, knees almost touching. “Hands out flat hold the bottom, sweetheart” then she placed it on your hands. “Now, breathe in” you did as you were told and the water bubbled. Then, she lit the bowl and looked straight into your eyes, and then finally took the bowl out and nodded signaling for you to stop breathing in.

You breathed out the smoke which felt smoother than any smoke you’d ever had in your lungs “Good job Y/N, baby” her voice was a little condescending, but you warmed inside still at the praise. She took it out of your hands and used it herself. You alternated turns using it, with her still helping you and only giving you small short hits.

Feeling more at ease, you relaxed more in your chair and melted in it a bit. Regina looked at you cunningly, obviously enjoying that you were starting to let loose. “Regina, why are you hanging out with me I’m not exactly the most riveting thing at this party” you circled your hand insinuating that she was the riveting thing here.

“You intrigue me sweetheart” she said nonchalantly “Do i need another reason?”

“No I guess not..”

She added sarcastically “Oh, I remember I only keep you around for lecture notes and help with homework.” you laughed and she spoke again “you don’t look half bad either.” Was that Regina saying she thought you looked good? You ignored that thought and took a sip from your solo cup.

“Hey Regina” you slurred your words a bit while she took another hit herself “Can I have another hit, please?” and grinned at her.

You leaned forward so you could hold your hand out again, instead she grabbed your shirt collar eliciting a gasp from you, lips as close to hers without kissing, she started blowing smoke into your mouth and you obliged breathing it in. Then pulled you in for a quick kiss, leaving you speechless. “Cat got your tongue loser?” still holding your shirt, keeping you from moving backward.

Pausing for a moment trying to process what happened and to find the words, you spoke softly your inhibitions lost “No, you do” and she pulled you in again for a deeper kiss tasting her lipstick. She let go of your shirt and her thumb cleaned your lips of her lipstick.

Your head spun from the alcohol, weed, and adrenaline, your body was warm and fuzzy. “Fuck, you’re amazing” you said under your breath without thinking. Your heart hammered.

“Of course I am Y/N” she stood up and held her hand out to you, a silent order for you to get up and take her hand.

“You’re like a goddess” she stared down at you, like you were her obedient servant. Then you took her hand.

“I know loser”

——————————————————————————————

She called an Uber for both of you and brought you back to her dorm. She told you that her roommate wouldn’t come back tonight, since they head home on the weekends.

She led you inside and you asked “You sure your roommate isn’t gonna come back?” you closed the door behind you.

“Ugh no, shut up don’t ruin the mood just kiss me” she shoved you against the door and tilted your head up to look at her “You gonna be good for me?”. You just nodded and kissed her, she pushed her knee between your thighs and you whined into her. You opened your mouth more to let her tongue inside.

With your core aching for more touch, you started grinding on her thigh and she pushed her knee up higher into you. Regina broke the kiss with a bite to your lip eliciting another moan from you. “Shit- Regina” you buried your face in the crook of her neck and moaned out, she took your face to look back at her.

“Do you want more?” she asked, but you only nodded. “Ah ah” Regina scolded you “use your words.”

“Shit, please Regina? Please, fuck me. Be mean to me” You begged her not thinking about your words.

She smirked at you feigning disgust “Oh? Shy, innocent, little wallflower is so dirty” She removed her leg from between your knees and started undoing your belt and pants. Then she walked away from you towards the bed and started removing her shirt, while you did the same. She then sat on the bed with only her panties on and spread her legs. “You want me to fuck you? Get on your knees and earn it”

You both were still very crossfaded and you eagerly went on your knees kissing her from her knee to her inner thigh biting as you went. You looked up and saw her flushed face and kissed above her clit through her panties. “Take them off. Make mommy feel good.”

“Yes mommy” You loved her telling you what to do. You slid her panties off and she spread her legs for you. Regina’s pussy was wet, and hot. She looked down at you expectantly. “You’re beautiful” you said before pressing your tongue to her clit. Regina moaned out and you squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve your own ache.

You tongued at her clit and pulled away to use a hand to rub circles around her bud “Can I use my fingers inside you?” and she let out a yes between moans and you watched her face as you slid two fingers easily inside her wet cunt and curled them pressing her g-spot her head threw back. You then returned your tongue to her clit pressing and licking harder.

“Shit baby, I’m close, don’t stop” she grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer suffocating you between her legs a little bit. You rubbed your thighs together trying to relieve yourself and moaned into her pussy while you curled your fingers inside of her.

A loud “Fuck” between pants and moans was the last thing she said before she arched her back, one hand pressing you hard into her pussy the other supporting her while she came on your fingers, you continued the assault on her clit while she rode out her orgasm. When she finished you licked her pussy and thighs clean.

"You have a tattoo, I never took you for a tattoo kind of person" You looked up at her as she traced your shoulder. Regina found it hot "You never told me" It was always well hidden behind a normal tshirt

You replied "You never asked" and gave her a smile "It's not finished yet though"

She pulled you up onto the bed with her and you straddled one of her thighs. “You did such a good job pet” She still breathed heavily, and she kissed you tasting herself on your tongue.

You grinded down on her thigh a bit while you worshiped her body, a little whine escaping your mouth. Though your core aches for attention you dare not ask in fear of upsetting the goddess. Instead you worshipped her body with a trail of kisses from her neck to her breast. Leaving hickeys and marks only on places that could be covered easily. When you leaned back to look at the marks you left, you just stared looking at her perfect figure.

You heard Regina let out a scoff “You done gawking at me sweetie?” you reddened realizing how long you stared for. Smirking at your embarrassment, she decided to give you mercy “You ready for your reward baby?” her voice sickly sweet and domineering.

“Please” you said under your breath, you couldn’t take waiting any longer, it ached between your legs.

Regina laughed a bit at you “So needy” She took a hand and signaled for you to lift your hips, her other hand placed on her thigh where you’d been grinding slightly. “Ride it, ride my fingers slut.”

You lowered down onto her hand and as soon as you took her fingers in she curled them hitting your g-spot, a loud moan escaped from your mouth and then you started to grind your hips. You covered your mouth with your hand and closed your eyes, your other hand on her shoulder supporting yourself. Riding her hand, the base of her palm rubbed against your clit “Shit- Regina..” you moaned out but muffled against your hand.

She stilled your hips and threatened “Move your hand, let me hear you or I’ll stop” you opened your eyes half-lidded and let your hand drop to Regina’s other shoulder supporting yourself with both hands now. “Good pet seems like you can follow orders hm”

She started guiding your hips against her hand to start you back up again. You didn’t break eye contact with her. You moaned out loudly when her hand from your hip found one of your nipples and pinched it hard. “Regina” you panted out desperately and she just bit her lip.

She curled her fingers repeatedly hitting your g-spot and let you grind, you synched your hips with her movements. Each press inside and each time your clit moved against her palm sent pleasure shooting through your body, and heat started to burn in your core “Fuck, Regina- please I’m close. I can’t” you were almost tipping over the edge

“Cum for me baby, go on” She instructed and your legs shook and you moaned out her name over and over, she continued to guide you through your orgasm still pressing against your inside until you stopped grinding against her hand.

When she started to pull her hand away, you lifted your hips to let her, Regina let her fingers slide through your slit and rubbed hard against your overstimulated clit. A loud whimper escaped, but you tried not to move away “Shit- Regina, I’m sensitive” You looked at her pleadingly, legs trembling

“I know baby” she smirked deviously as your legs shook “come one more time for me, can you do that?” she circled your clit faster.

“Yes, fuck- anything for you” you weren’t going to last long, especially when she talked to you like that.

Regina hummed “Such a pathetic toy for me aren’t you?” you whined out a yes and she pressed harder. She loved seeing you come undone.

“Regina, please, I’m close again” you managed to get out, then she started rubbing horizontal strokes right against your clit and you felt like you saw stars “Mommy- please I can’t, I can’t-”

“Go ahead pet” she purred in your ear and you came all over her hand again. This orgasm was more intense than the first, white-hot pleasure struck through you. She whispered praises and encouragement while you came, but she never slowed down wanting to prolong your orgasm as long as possible.

When you pulled your hips away you she brought her hand in front of both of you. “Look at how messy you are baby” then she made a show of licking your wetness off her hands.

You sat on her lap still straddling her and she sat up to kiss you, she wrapped her arms around your waist and your arms went around her shoulder and neck. She kissed your jawline and then your neck leaving a sizable hickey that would be hard to hide. She pulled back to look at you.

“That was incredible” you said breathily coming down from your orgasm high and the weed. “Thank you” you murmured quietly.

“You did say I was amazing” she pulled you close to her lips again, “of course I’m incredible in bed” sounding cocky as ever.

Regina let you climb off her and she helped you clean yourself up. You sat on the bed while she rummaged through her drawer and she threw a pink t shirt and a pair of sweats at you. She decided to keep the stray in her bed. “Stay tonight”

“Thank you” you said as you stood up and got changed into her pjs.

She rummaged more through her drawer and pulled out a small tape measurer “Sit up” she instructed and you did, then she wrapped it around your neck measuring it quickly.

You were confused, but before you could ask what it was for, she lifted the covers to get in bed and anxiety suddenly took over you. You were about to sleep in this gorgeous woman’s bed. But your mind raced. Was this just a fling? Were you really just kept around for homework and a good fuck? Your expression changed and you furrowed your eyebrows a tiny bit. “I’m gonna go get some water really quick” you grabbed her water bottle.

Before you could walk out, she said “Okay nerd, just come back” she sounded irritated, but the way her hand had tugged on your shirt showed you she wasn’t really upset.

“Of course” you grabbed your phone and walked out to the communal bathroom. You went to the sink and splashed water in your face. “Fuck” you said to yourself looking at the mirror, you then tilted your head to the side looking at the hickey she left on you. Your stomach fluttered, you’d just fucked one of the most beautiful people and she wants you to come back to bed.

You opened your phone to worried messages from your friends

Y/N: so sorry guys I’m at someone’s dorm right now

Max: shit we were worried about you, we tried finding you at the party but you weren’t there

Y/N: you guys have my location you know

Jade: whose dorm r you at? did you, yk?

You hesitated before texting back, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Your friends knew that Regina had taken a liking to you and gave you special treatment, they also knew what a huge crush you had on her

Y/N: i’m with regina...

Max: so you’re the one people saw with regina huh

Jade: hope you had fun

Y/N: mm details later, i’m going to bed goodnight

Jade: goodnight

Max: night

Next to the communal bathroom, was a small water fountain and you filled it.

You walked back to her room and she put her phone down quickly and lifted the covers for you to come in. “Hey Regina?” you said nervously as you got shifted to be comfortable in her bed.

“Yes” she replied while she took your arm around to hold her. You were cuddling her, and she scooted closer to you.

“I was just wondering, is this just a one time thing or..” you paused anxiously wondering if she was mad.

She turned over in your arms and looked at you “You’re a good fuck, you’re good with school, yes.” Regina said a bit sternly, almost offended at you asking. “but you don’t look half bad, and I actually happen to enjoy your company” she said under her breath. You wouldn’t know if she actually said that last part if you didn’t feel her breath on your lips.

“And if you want this again, which I know you do, then you’ll get it, understand?” she said cockily again, you didn’t reply but just passionately kissed her, and her hand came to cup your face. “I’ll take that as a yes” This was the nicest Regina ever was up till now, and it warmed you.

She turned back over for you to spoon her and you pulled her close this time and kissed her neck and shoulder. “Thank you, goodnight Regina” you murmured, sleepiness taking over your body.

“Goodnight loser” she replied with no malice in her voice. You nuzzled your face into her shoulder and Regina felt you smile into her shoulder. You were her loser, hers. And hopefully hers for more nights.

——————————————————————————————

In the morning you realized where you were, in Regina George’s bed and reddened at the realization. In the night you switched positions with her, and she really just held you like a teddy bear. You awkwardly slipped your phone out from under the pillow and checked the time, it was around 10AM.

You felt her stir and pull you close to her, and your heart beamed, the snappy Regina George likes to cuddle you. “Good morning” You felt her breathe against your neck.

“Good morning Regina, did you sleep okay?” you replied and turned over to look at her.

She let go to stretch her arms out a bit. “Good, you?”

“I haven’t slept that good in a while” You admitted, her smile full of pride.

“What? You worn out from last night baby” she teased and you just didn’t reply and turned your head into the pillow. You felt her get up out of the bed then you looked at what she was doing. She handed you your clothes from last night.

She threw you a glance and told you “Get dressed we’re going out.” She sat in her desk chair and started putting on make up.

“Wait what?” you asked surprised.

She turned around annoyed and looked at you “We’re going shopping loser, get dressed” she turned back to her mirror and teased “Don’t worry I wont look at you change, not like I didn’t see you naked last night right?” you flustered and got changed.

You sat on the bed waiting for bed to finish getting ready, kicking your feet a bit “Hey Regina, you got any coffee?” you said as she was slipping on her heels.

“Some in the fridge” you kneeled down to get some and opened a bottle of cold coffee.

“Thanks” you turned and saw her put on her black leather jacket, then she walked up to you, and used a finger to tilt your head up.

“You ready to go?” she smiled looking down at you, the heels she wore made her much taller than you. Your face was red and she reveled in the effect she had on you. You just nodded.

——————————————————————————————

You sat in the front passengers seat, and of course Regina had a sexy car too. You had chugged your coffee out of nervousness. Regina told you that Gretchen and Karen ended up at some frat guys house, and picked them up.

When they got in you really stuck out like a sore thumb. Three pretty girls and there was you. While they all talked amongst themselves about their night, you just stared at the road.

After arriving at some mall parking lot, Regina led the three of you through an expensive clothing store, you were in the back following them like a lost dog. Regina instructed them to find clothes for you, and you were stunned, you thought they were here for themselves, and you were there to tag along.

“Y/N, sit there got it?” She pointed at some chairs near a dressing room “We’ll be back.” You went to go sit and waited for them.

Gretchen and Karen came to you first and surprisingly they let you pick the clothes that you felt comfortable wearing. They put the clothes you didn’t choose on a rack and dispersed again to pick out clothes for themself. You yelled a “Thanks guys” before they were out of earshot.

Regina came back and walked toward you, “Hey try this on” she handed you a white wife beater and some ripped jeans and she looked through the clothes the girls had chosen for you, and removed some items from the pile. You saw a plastic bag so she had already bought herself some clothes while she was a walking around.

“Okay” You stepped into a dressing room and slipped the clothes on, you saw how expensive they were and grew anxious. You looked good but you still felt nervous and self-conscious, the shirt revealed your tattoo, which you never showed off. You poked your head out and saw Regina looking at you and raised an eyebrow, wanting to see the outfit.

You stepped out and she got up from her chair and approached you, circling you like prey. It made you nervous. Her hand touched your waist and she spoke, “Wear this with your belt” Regina walked in front of you and tucked the front of the shirt into the pants “You look cute” she put a finger on her lip and looked you up and down.

“Th-thanks” you replied nervously.

Regina then walked behind you and smacked your ass lightly. It made you yelp a little, and she let out a soft chuckle. Her fingers laced through the loops on the jeans on either side and pulled your hips into hers and whispered in your ear “Your ass looks nice in these jeans, wear this outfit tonight” Then she nipped at your ear, and you suddenly felt hot. She traced your shoulder again "Also show this off more often"

You stammered out “What’s tonight?” She let go of you and smiled.

“Another party of course” she sat down in the chair and crossed her legs “Get changed again, then let’s go pay”

When you stepped out, Regina took the clothes from you and handed you her bag of clothes to hold, and went to go to the register to pay for you. “You really don’t have to do that Regina it’s fine,” you said, feeling bad if she paid.

“If I’m going to be seen again with you tonight, especially on the dance floor, I want you to look good.” she glanced at you and inserted her card. It was nice that she paid even though it was for her own selfish purposes.

“You sure you don’t want me to pay you back” You felt bad because it was pricey.

“Don’t question me baby” She threw you a glare and walked past you handing you the bag of clothes making you hold both bags but you didn’t really mind that. And you nodded obediently.

Gretchen and Karen were also paying and when you all were reunited at the entrance, you offered to hold their bags as well, which they let you. You walked around more with them at the mall, Gretchen and Karen ended up walking off on their own to another part of the mall, then it was just you and Regina again.

You both were talking comfortably, even though your heart was racing, you wanted to tease her back a bit. You sat at a table, sitting across from each other, drinking some soda, then you leaned forward, elbows on the table resting your head in your hands smiling “So you really do enjoy my company don’t you”.

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever you think”

“Oh come on, you said it last night, I remember it” You tilted your head to the side and grinned wider.

She crossed her legs and her arms and was frustrated “I did, so what? We were drunk and high” She spat, and it almost hurt your feelings. She then put on a devious smile “And if you keep acting like a brat about it, you’ll regret it tonight, understand me, baby?”

Heat instantly went between your legs at what she was insinuating but you continued your facade of confidence “Regret it how?” you laughed and said “Should I fuck around and find out? or be good for you?”

She returned your sentiment “Up to you, either way you’ll end up begging” That made your facade crumble away and you felt your face grow red, and she just relished in your shyness, knowing she won.

Once you were reunited with them again, Regina drove Gretchen and Karen to their respective dorms, and you last. Before you got out the car she grabbed your shirt again and pulled you in for a quick kiss. “Meet back at mine at around 7, got it? I’ve got another errand to run”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there, thanks for taking me out today” You stepped out and waved.

“Mmhm whatever, thank me later” her tone was mean but she pulled her sunglasses down a little and gave you a look that made your heart flutter for a moment.

She drove away and you walked into your dorm where your two friends were. “Hey guys” you put your bag of clothes down and kicked your boots off.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in” Your friend Jade said to you.

“Yeah a bag of clothes Jade it isn’t a big deal” you replied tired of walking around “Turn around I’m changing”

Max and Jade turned around but still probed at the topic “But you were with the Regina George last night” Jade said.

“And you slept in her dorm” Max added, you changed into your comfortable pjs to lounge around in until 7 o’clock approached

“You can turn back around now” you said and they turned toward you arms crossed

“Details please” they both said and you sighed defeated.

“Promise me you won’t tell a soul” you put your pinkies out for them and the promised.

“Of course Y/N”

You sat on your bed and they sat across from you on Max’s bed, and you huffed out “Fine, she found me, we smoked a bong, and then we left, got an Uber to her dorm and we fucked” you sighed.

Max smiled “I would say sorry for losing you last night, but It seems like you had a great time without us” and pointed to your neck. You had completely forgot you had a hickey there and you were cherry red in the face. Jade and Max laughed at your obliviousness.

“But come on was it good?” Jade pressed.

You had grabbed a pillow and stuffed your mouth and nose into it “yes, she liked my tattoo” you said through the pillow.

“Does she like you? Was it a fling or does she want you again?”

“I don’t know, but she’s insinuated she wanted to fuck again” you mumbled.

Max and Jade high-fived each other “Y/N getting laid with the prettiest girl around” Max said teasing you.

Jade and Max were actually pretty sociable and had connections to parties, so when they got you as a roommate they took you on as their token introvert.

Jade laughed and added wiping away fake tears “They grow up so fast” You threw the pillow at them and their laughter only grew. Once they regained composure, Jade asked “There’s another party tonight, you coming with? Regina might be there” she waggled her eyebrows at you and you held up your middle finger.

“Actually, Regina invited me out to the party with her friends..” you grabbed the bag of clothes and took out the outfit Regina bought for you “that’s what this is for, she bought it for me”

They whooped and cheered, then Max spoke “She must really like you then Y/N” They paused and looked at your anxious face “Don’t sweat it, you’re gonna be hot shit tonight”

“I hope so” You ran your fingers through your hair.

7 o’clock approached faster than you expected, it was already 6:20 and you had gotten some notes done for a class. Then you started to change into the outfit Regina chose for you, you ripped off the tags and threw them in the recycling trashcan near the mirror, putting on your clothes. Max whistled when you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. “Regina has good taste”

“In clothes or people?” you asked, while putting your belt on

“Both Y/N” Max walked up to you and fixed your hair a little. You sat and bounced your knee anxiously “Breathe you already fucked her once you’ll be fine” you just felt silly, your outfit wasn’t too out of your comfort zone but you were scared again.

Max patted your shoulder. “You’re fine, you should wear that gold cross necklace you have, it’d look good with your outfit” you grabbed it and handed it to Max to clasp around your neck.

It was an indulgence purchase from months ago, you saw it and decided you needed it, it was actually expensive and real gold too. You were rather attracted to shiny things, and people like Regina.

Jade was absorbed in some video on her laptop and Max beckoned her “Jay look at them” She paused her video and looked at you.

“Wow go get ‘em tiger” Jade said jokingly, you rolled your eyes and cringed at her

“What are you my dad?” you grinned and then looked at your phone, “Ah shit I should head out now guys” You grabbed your small cross bag and slung it over your shoulder.

“We’ll see you at the party!” Max and Jade called out, you waved them goodbye. Then you walked to Regina’s dorm, it was about a 10-15 minute walk away and you texted her to let you into the building. You were only 3 minutes early.

Y/N: Hey Regina i’m outside, mind letting me in?

Regina G :0 : Be down in a sec

You didn’t wait long as she opened the door for you and led you back to her dorm. She didn’t look at you just yet, she was in a hurry to get back and finish getting ready. When she was finished getting ready, she stepped in front of the mirror and ensured her outfit looked good. She wore a pink shirt that complimented her breast well and black leggings and heeled boots. Then she turned around to you.

She hummed in approval and then you were red again. She traced the gold cross you wore. “Nice touch”. She grazed your arms which were nicely toned but not super muscular.

“Thank you” you stood awkwardly as she was staring at your outfit and your body. You avoided eye contact.

“Real gold?” she took the cross into her hands and looked at the fine details, you nodded. “Consider me impressed” you breathed out a sigh of relief only for her to pull you by your belt into a kiss. “You ready for this little wallflower?”

“Yeah” you said quietly.

She handed you her leather jacket “Hold this for me, don’t lose it” the she leaned over to apply her lipstick and walked back over to you pressing a few kiss marks to your cheek and neck. “Don’t wipe that off either” She pulled her phone out “Just waiting for Gretchen, Karen and Cady now”

——————————————————————————————

You left your bag at Regina’s since you assumed you’d come back for it anyway but took an unopened pack of Marlboros and a lighter and put it in Regina’s jacket. It was about 8 o’clock that you all left, Cady drove you all to the house party. Regina sat in the front leaving you with Gretchen and Karen in the back. You held Regina’s jacket in your lap.

Karen and Cady were the more amicable of the four in the car. Karen leaned and looked at your back "You've got tattoos Y/N" Suddenly Gretchen leaned over and looked at you.

"You do" She was also surprised "looks good on you"

You swore you saw Regina glance over at you raising an eyebrow, it screamed 'told you I was right nerd'.

Karen complimented your tattoos and asked many follow-up questions you weren't prepared for, but she leaned in and whispered "Regina likes them, she keeps staring at you through the mirror"

Before you could reply back thanks, Cady parked at the curb near the house where you could already hear music, the houses in this neighborhood were huge. Gretchen opened her door first hopping out, and let Karen out. Karen sent you a wink before shutting the door.

Regina led them to the door and opened it, all eyes were on her again. But since you walked in together it felt like they were on you. You all grabbed drinks before Karen and Gretchen dragged Cady to the dance floor. You grabbed some Jack and Coke and Regina just poured herself some Pink Whitney. “Hey Regina can I try some of yours?” you asked trying to loosen up before the alcohol kicked in.

“It’s vodka sweetie, aren’t you a lightweight?” you nodded She placed her cup down and picked up the bottle of Pink Whitney and a clean shot glass and poured you a shot, handing it to you “Bottoms up” You drank it and it burned on the way down but it was sweet and decadent much like Regina herself. She mouthed ‘Good pet’ and smirked then dragged you to the dance floor where you were already tipsy.

“Regina, can I wear your jacket for now so I don’t lose it?” you said loud enough for her to hear through the music and people, she nodded and continued to dance. Your bodies were close together and you were drunk. Alcohol was the best social lubricant.

You danced together and at some points she took your hand and let you spin her around. You had to extend your arms a little bit more than if you were her height and if she wasn’t wearing heels.

You turned your back for a little when you heard Jade and Max call after you and you greeted them, they said they saw you and Regina together and playfully punched your shoulder, and then heard Regina’s voice “Get off me weirdo!” you turned to see some frat guy with his arm wrapped around Regina’s waist.

“Dance with me” he slurred his words very drunkenly but he wouldn’t let go of Regina and she wiggled her way out of his grasp.

“I'm here with someone, get lost” Regina spat.

“Yeah where is he then huh?” The guy stepped up to her, this guy was easily almost a foot taller than you, but Regina didn’t care and she pulled your arm and you instinctively hooked your arm around the back of her waist.

You glared at him and Regina pulled your face towards hers kissing you in front of him and someone others watched, a shy little nobody that no one’s seen is kissing the Regina George. You were drunk and didn’t care, you were pissed this guy wouldn’t leave her alone. Your hand trailed down to her ass momentarily and you both broke the kiss.

He was about to say something else but Gretchen, Karen, and Cady showed up, “Leave her be, fucking jackss” he just scoffed as more people were watching and walked to another girl. You and Regina quickly let go of each other, you wiped off her lipstick from your lips.

Her friends were checking on her and she was just dusting her outfit off obviously irritated as well but she just kept saying she was fine. You were seething inside and chugged the rest of your cup but maintained composure “Regina you okay?”

She looked up at you and snapped “I’m fine Y/N” and she looked at her friends “I’m fine, gonna get more to drink” She stormed off and her friends just stood looking at each other but you weaved your way through the crowd following her.

“Regina” you put a hand on her shoulder, she poured more alcohol into her cup, and she ignored you “Regina let’s go outside for a second” You saw an open case of water and took one out. “Come on Regina please?”

She gave you a death stare but she found the backyard, opened the sliding door, and you followed her when you were alone she sneered at you “I’m fine seriously lay off it” You dare not take her alcohol but you handed her the bottle of water and she sat in a folding chair.

You took out the cigarettes and the lighter and then slipped the jacket off to place around Regina’s shoulders. You sat next to her and opened the pack of cigarettes, placed a piece of gum in your mouth so it wouldn’t taste bad, and lit the cigarette. She drank a third of the water you gave her.

“Smoke break?” you passed her the cigarette and smiled a little, she took it from you wordlessly. You just looked down at your phone and let her have her silence. You got a couple messages from Max and Jade including a picture of Regina and you from the 2nd floor window. You looked at Regina who was turned away from you and then you looked up behind where you saw your friends giving you thumbs up, you flipped them off quickly.

Regina passed the cigarette back to you and you took a long puff. Then she spoke “Men are such jack asses, ugh” she crossed her legs and complained, you listened. “Like get the fuck of of me” she rolled her eyes and then you flicked the ash off and passed the cigarette back to her.

She ranted on for a while before she turned back to you, and murmured a soft “Thanks though” she flicked the cigarette butt away but it landed toward your feet, you picked it up and stuffed it in your pocket to throw away later. Both of you were still thoroughly intoxicated so you felt like you could tease her a little bit.

You put a cigarette in your mouth used one hand to protect it from the wind and one hand lit it up, you took a long puff before smirking. “Regina George? Saying ‘thank you’? I can’t believe my ears” You passed her the cigarette again.

“Shut it nerd” She took a deep breath of the cigarette and blew it at your face. You were glad to see her back to her snarky teasing ways.

“Or what?” You challenged her with no intention of winning. “You gonna punish me, Regina?” You leaned back in your chair and spread your legs to get comfortable, but she stood up.

She walked in front of your chair and towered over you “It seems like that’s what you want” her knee pushed harshly between your thighs, one hand on the back of your chair and the other still holding the cigarette. She looked down at you and you smiled wider, knowing she was back in a better mood. “You better wipe that smug smile off your face L/N”

You tried leaning up to kiss her but she straightened herself out of your reach and shoved her knee harder into your cunt. You whined “Regina” You looked up at her and she held the cigarette to your mouth and watched you inhale, you turned your head to not blow the smoke at her. She looked at you expecting you to say or do something. You put your hands up in defeat “I’m sorry Gina please forgive me” You wanted a taste of her lips.

“Again” she said smiling down at you cruelly, and you swore she could feel the pulse between your legs.

“Regina please, I'm sorry I was joking, I’ll be good now” You put your hands down on your thighs and leaned forward again “Please kiss me”

Like yesterday, she breathed smoke into your mouth. Regina leaned down towards your lips and you inhaled what she gave you, and she pressed her lips to yours. She pulled away and said “You’re forgiven, I suppose”

“Thank you goddess” You smiled at her more timidly. She removed her knee from between your legs and finished off the last of the cigarette. Before she could flick it onto the ground somewhere, you put your hand out to take it from her.

“Oh a good Samaritan too aren’t you?” she taunted you and handed it to you to put in your pocket. She looked you up and down again her eyes lingering at your necklace, then she smirked “Well, God bless you baby” she said seductively, and started to walk away “Let's go back inside shall we?”

She walked ahead of you and you looked up at the window to see if your friends were still there, and they were. Jade mouthed to you ‘bottom’ and you rolled your eyes, then speed walked to catch up with Regina.

Regina got a message and then took your hand and led you upstairs, to a room with a pool table and in the corner, Gretchen, Karen, Cady, and Janis, with two guys you assumed were gonna go home with some of them tonight. They passed around a bong and Regina looked back at you and said quietly. “Hope I trained you well last night, or does my stray need help again?” She sat down next to Cady on the couch and you sat on Regina’s right.

Regina got her turn and then it was yours thankfully you did it right. You passed it around maybe three times and talked and didn’t get awkward or anything, when it was your turn again Regina leaned to whisper in your ear, “Let me know when you wanna go back to mine, I have a surprise” a hand lightly traced the back of your neck and you coughed out then she leaned away to talk to Cady.

You stayed a while, just chatting, and you were pretty sobered up, but you felt needier. You let Regina finish her conversation before tapping Regina’s arm and nodding your head. Then Regina stood up “Cady, me and nerd are heading home now, just gonna take an Uber” You and Regina said bye to everyone else and walked out. Walking out the door she interlaced her fingers with yours.

——————————————————————————————

Regina traced the inner part of your thigh in the car and you had to bite back a whine when she got too close to your core, and you returned the favor pulling her leg apart slightly as well. Your stomach filled with butterflies.

When you got to her dorm she took her jacket off and kissed you relentlessly, both of you kicking off your shoes. Regina undid your belt and slipped a hand underneath your underwear and felt how wet you were. “Been waiting all night for this pet?” she dragged her finger from your entrance to your clit and pressed lightly.

“Yes, I want you, please” you begged, she took her hand out and licked her finger clean.

“Strip for me and kneel in front of the bed, like yesterday” She commanded and you were happy to follow, you took your gold necklace off and placed it on the desk and rid the rest of your clothes. Her back was turned to you and you heard her opening something while you stripped and went on your knees.

“Hey Regina? Can I keep a shirt on?” she turned to you and you were in nothing but held her pink t-shirt you wore last night.

She was amused to see you wear her clothes “Yeah, sure” she went back to fumbling with something and you put the shirt on and stared at your knees.

When you glanced up at her, she wore only her shirt and lace panties now which made you blush and look at the ground, then you heard a clink of metal. Regina sat on the bed right in front of you, and you looked up and saw what she held. A pretty black collar with a tag on the front engraved with the words “Regina’s Pet” and a ring on the back and front of the collar for a leash or for her to tug on.

“Hey you sober right?” her voice was soft and caring, which surprised you.

“Yes, I am” you replied quietly you were eager.

“Do you want this around your neck?” Regina unclasped it and held it in front of you.

Your mouth went dry and you said “yes” weakly.

“Good” she leaned down and fastened the collar onto your neck. “You’re my pet now, yeah?” she hooked her finger through the loop on the front and pulled you close.

“Yes” is all you could manage to say as she beckoned you to straddle her lap. Your legs were spread as you sat on her and she inspected the collar on you.

“is it too tight?” she yanked on it a little and stuck two fingers between your neck and the collar.

“No- no, it’s good thank you” you were nervous again.

“You’re familiar with the color system, yes?” Regina asked.

You nodded “Green for good, yellow for slow down and red for stop”

“Good you’re gonna need it” She replied and kissed your lips

She let go of your collar and one hand was against your back and the other trailed up your thigh and pressed lightly on your clit. “So about you being a bit bratty earlier today..” she circled your clit gently and she stared into your eyes, “I think I have to discipline you a bit, yeah?”

You were willing to do anything she asked really, and said “Yes” She rewarded that answer with her moving pressing slightly harder, you ached wanting more “I’m sorry Regina, I’ll be good” she let out an approving hum.

“Tell me when you’re close baby, don’t finish unless I say so,” She said, “can you do that for me?”

“Yes” and she rewarded you by pressing against your clit faster “Ah, Jesus- Regina, it feels good” you moaned out and rested your head in the crook of her neck. “Faster please,” you begged needing more friction.

“God you’re so fucking pathetic” but she obliged and touched you faster. “You like when I call you pathetic baby?”

“Fuck, yes!” each thrum against your clit sent you closer and closer to orgasm, and you felt your stomach tighten and your legs trembled “Regina I’m close,” But as soon as you said that her fingers were off you and you whined “No.. please, let me come” your orgasm dissipated and your clit ached.

“Mm no” she responded back, “Lay down spread your legs” You climbed off her and spread your legs, and she lifted the shirt to reveal your wet cunt to her. You closed your legs when she stared, but she pried them back open. She started at your inner thigh and left kisses, marks, and bites all the way up to your pussy, where she licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. You arched your back wanting more.

She licked your clit gently at first and then harder, “Regina” you gasped out, and you bucked your hips into her face then she pushed them back down. You looked down and you saw her looking back at you while she ate your pussy out. She flicked her tongue across your clit and you said her name between moans and pants.

While her tongue abused your clit she gathered your slick around her fingers and slid two digits inside you, making you gasp. Pumping her fingers in and out hitting your g-spot your legs began to shake again “Fuck, I’m close. Please don’t stop mommy” But she pulled away leaving you on the edge again. She moved up and kissed you, tasting your wetness on her tongue.

“You’re doing so good for me, pet” She praised and kissed you again letting you rest before she edged you again. “Color?”

“Green” you replied, the ache between your legs hurt but it felt so good to be at the end of her wrath. Then she went back down to lick your clit again, slower this time wanting to draw out your agony a little bit.

She pulled away to look at your cunt “You have such a pretty pussy, you know that pet?” she then thrust two fingers back inside you before you could respond, curling them against your g-spot, your back arched again, making your collar clink slightly and she went back down to lick your clit again.

Her tongue slowly increased speed and pressure as she licked circles around the bud, her fingers still moving inside you. Suddenly she sucked on your clit and you almost fell over the edge “Wait! close- fuckk” you said to her and she stopped again, you didn’t want to come without her permission, you wanted to be good for her.

You were sexually frustrated, tears pricked at the corner of your eye and she took her clean hand and wiped them away “Does your pussy ache sweetie?” her tone was sadistic as she smiled. You just nodded and she cooed “My poor pet” you whined as she teased you. “One more time, can you handle it?”

You nodded eagerly and she lifted your shirt revealing your tummy and left marks down your stomach to your pussy once more, you involuntarily bucked your hips and she slammed your hips down against the mattress, she was stronger than she let on. She started licking once more and it drove you crazy, your clit was sensitive from the edging, she sucked on it occasionally. Then slid two fingers inside you again. “Regina” you drew out her name and she bit gently at your clit. “You feel so good..” then you were sure you could feel her smirk between your legs.

Your legs trembled again as she licked over your clit directly and relentlessly. A third finger stretched your pussy, and you moaned her name again and again. You pleaded “Regina please, please let me come, please” you whined out and looked down waiting for approval, but she just looked at you and sucked your clit hard. “Regina, please- fuck! I can’t, I can’t hold it, please I’m all yours please”

You were about to come crashing over the edge and then she lifted her head replacing her tongue with her thumb and she strummed your clit quickly “Go on baby, come for me” You almost screamed her name but she kissed you and muffled your sounds, she pulled away from the kiss.

The only words that came out of your mouth as you came was her name “thank you” and “don’t stop” She loved watching the scene before her. Her collared pet writhing and coming under her touch. Regina only stopped when you pushed her hand away, overstimulated.

She put her fingers in your mouth “Clean up your mess pet” you sat up and licked her fingers clean.

When you finished you kissed her hand and murmured “Thank you for letting me finish” she smiled and grabbed a water bottle from her table and held it to your mouth. Your mouth was dry from moaning her name so much.

“You okay there nerd?” she asked gently. She was worried she was too rough on you.

“I’m all good, my legs just feel like jelly” you gave a soft smile and she leaned down to kiss one of your legs. She smiled back at you.

“You up to return the favor?” she straddled your hips as she waited for your answer. You pulled her by the collar of her shirt like she’s done to you and kissed her.

You let her pull away and said “Of course” and she pulled her panties off.

She moved up so her pussy was right over your mouth, she was practically dripping “Be a good doll and make me feel good” She lowered herself onto your mouth and you greedily licked her pussy, you loved how she tasted and you grabbed her hips to put her full weight onto you.

She groaned and began to grind against your tongue, you guided her hips back and forth and she started to move her hips faster “Oh fuck Y/N” you saw her close her eyes. “You’re such a good fuck toy aren’t you?” you moaned at her words and it sent vibrations through her clit “Do that again baby, touch yourself while I ride you” You reached a hand down between your legs and moaned against her again. Your body was sensitive too and you moaned loudly at how overstimulated your clit was.

Your other hand now moved to her ass and you squeezed it digging your nails into her ass and pushing her further down into your face. “God, you’re so good at pleasing me” she gripped your hair and moaned “Don’t stop, please” she sounded desperate and who were you to deny her pleasure when she asked so nicely?

As she approached her orgasm you felt her legs start to squeeze your head a little, and you also got closer, thrumming your finger against your clit. “Fuck I’m close, are you close baby?” she looked down at you “Can you come with me?” you nodded and sucked her clit harder she moaned your name and streams of obscenities, “Fuck- baby” is what she got out before her back arched and she tilted her head back. You moaned into her as your orgasm followed quickly after. She rode your face prolonging her ecstasy as long as possible and then she lifted off you.

You wiped off your face a little before she kissed you again “You’re perfect” you got out between her kissing you.

She climbed off the bed and held her hand out to you, “Let's get cleaned up, how’s that sound?”

You just took her hand and followed her to the bathroom attached to her room. She turned the shower on and got rid of her shirt, then turned to you, undoing your collar. Then you also stripped your shirt off.

She was so sweet it actually caught you off guard. She let you into the shower and asked “You sure you’re okay?” then started to wash your hair.

“I’m way more than okay Regina” you looked up at her and she continued to wash your hair gently “Did you have fun?” You wondered.

“Mmhm, I rode your face and came all over it, of course, I had fun” She rinsed your hair and you began to soap her hair up as well. You turned her around washed the ends of her hair and kissed her shoulder. "I also enjoy making a mess out of you, I hope I wasn't too rough on you"

"You weren't, it felt amazing" you whispered and placed another kiss on her shoulder.

She took a washcloth and washed her own body. Then turned you around, Regina started to lightly wash your back and shoulders "You're so cute" you heard her say quietly, while she washed the rest of the suds away.

When you hopped out of the shower she handed you a towel and you dried yourself off. You wrapped the towel around yourself and followed her back to the room where she got you clean clothes once again.

Instead of crawling into bed right away, Regina was seated on the edge of her bed and actually patted the empty space next to her, you sat next to her “I want to be very clear to you” her voice was serious with an air of worry to it.

Suddenly you felt like you did something wrong and apologized “Shit Regina did I do something wro-“

She cut you off “No! no, you didn’t,” she said quickly “Just listen okay?” Regina was nervous, and you knew she didn’t like to feel coddled but you grabbed her hand trying to support her and she let you. “I like you Y/N, not just to fuck or for homework” Your jaw dropped and she got defensive. “We don’t have to do this-“

“Regina, you like me like…” you paused to breathe “Crush like me?” you gripped her hand tighter hoping you interpreted that right.

“What other kind of ‘like’ is there for a confession, dumbass” she was rude and then apologetic “Sorry” you just laughed.

“You’re fine Regina, I can take when you’re mean to me” and brought your hand up to your lips and kissed it gently “But why? You have so many other people lined up for you other than me, and I’m like, socially awkward and weird”

“The awkwardness is a little charming” She claimed. “You were also hard to read at first, so quiet too. Like a little mouse”

You smiled "Glad you think so" and you kissed her hand again “You’re a little scary Regina”

“I know it’s a blessing and a curse” She just smiled back at you.

You stared at your intertwined hands “I didn’t know you liked me, like that” you bit your tongue “I thought you were just kidding, I’m kind of slow, aren’t I?”

“A bit,” she smiled “It’s okay loser, I know I send mixed signals sometimes, but I was flirting with you all those times before yesterday just so you know” Shit you were really slow.

You leaned in and kissed her “I like you a lot” You broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. You opened your mouth to say, ‘Please be mine’, but nothing came out.

Regina still looked a little nervous "I meant what I said you know, you're mine" She said possessively, she paused and was about to say something else but you cut in.

"I want you Regina, and I want to be yours as well." You declared

She poked fun at your statement "You're so cheesy" and pushed you away slightly and playfully. "Just get in the bed" You stood and lifted the covers and climbed in and let her in as well.

You laid on your back and she was on her side, she looked at you like she was admiring your features. Then you turned to ogle in realization, dumbfounded, "Wait you're my girlfriend now right?"

She flicked your forehead earning an "Ow" from you. She rolled her eyes "Yes loser, and for someone so smart, you're kinda dumbass too"

You grinned wide, "Your dumbass though right?"

The corners of her lips tugged up slightly, showing she enjoyed your small cheesy banter with her "Shut up"

"Fiiine" You inched closer to her and kissed her passionately, "Goodnight Regina" She turned over and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her.

"Goodnight nerd" she said tiredly.

You smirked and mumbled quietly "Your nerd" and you just heard a tsk sound and fell asleep with this beautiful goddess in your arms.

(heyyyy just wanted to add here at the bottom, that i moved really fast with all the kinky shit and collar stuff. this isn’t a perfect representation of bdsm, so please do your research! [I might rewrite a version of this over on ao3 to be longer so i can better portray that stuff realistically {also it’s because i feel bad}])

#renee rapp #regina george #mean girls #smut #regina george x reader #regina george x you #x reader

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darlingdarkly · 2 months

Text

New Year, New You Part 7

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.2k words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, gaslighting

Part 1, 6, 8

You begin to drift up from a deep slumber, your head hurts and the room is too bright, you can tell even through your closed lids that the room is filled with an ungodly amount of sunlight. Had you forgotten to close the curtains before bed? Very unlike you but not an impossibility. You sure as hell were regretting it now though.

You were also still very drowsy, you can’t ever remember waking up this sleepy. Maybe you’ll rest your eyes for a bit longer.

You stir in your sleep, tongue moving over the roof of your mouth, it’s dry as sand. But you don’t want to get water, you’re still so tired and your head, Fuck! Your head kills. Maybe you could get up and get some water, close those damn curtains while you’re at it.

Your eyelids feel like they’re glued closed. One hand comes up to shield your eyes while the other rubs the crustated sleep from the corners of them. Your vision clears, and you're squinting but your eyes are open. You lift your head just slightly and examine the room.

It’s not your room, but it’s familiar. Like a room you’ve seen in a dream. Were you dreaming? Had to be. This wasn't your room. Everything blurs and you blink your eyes, your dream eyes, to clear your vision. It helps. You’re lying in bed, not your bed but the dream bed. The duvet is dark blue, it’s familiar but from where is far from even the tip of your tongue.

The room is neat, there's a dark wood dresser in the corner, a pull up bar and a stand with dumbbells progressing in weight off to the side. You turn your head to see a digital alarm clock, it reads 9:48. Fuck! 9:48?!? You’re late for work. That gets you moving, you sit up but it’s too fast and your headache triples as the world begins to spin. The dream bubble pops. Not a dream after all, but still not your room.

You recover but slowly as the room gradually stops spinning. Where were you? It looked familiar, but you still couldn’t place it. What happened last night? It’s very hazy. Nancy, you can remember that much. You had gone out with Nancy, everything else might as well had been a dream for as much as you could recall of it.

Someone was in this house with you, you could smell something delicious in the air and your stomach growled its approval. You groan and put a hand to your forehead. You needed water immediately. You stare down at the bed, dark blue, a deep navy shade. A memory, hazy, begins to come forth. Your pounding head is slow processing it, it rises to the surface from the depths of your murky brain. Your dry mouth falls open just as the door swings inward and just as your recollection had summoned him, here he was, huge grin on his face and a glass of cold orange juice in hand.

“Bonnie!” You wince at his volume and he tenses up, quieting down and even stepping lighter, trying his hardest to not pain you. “Sorry, lass. Ye might be a bit woozy. Had a helluva night last night.” You must be dreaming, but you’re not. You know you’re not.

You start to say his name but all that comes out is croaky garbles. “Here, drink this.” He hands you the glass and you’ve never coveted a glass of orange juice so hard in your life. You take huge, greedy gulps and when the juice runs over the dried strip of leather that had become your tongue you nearly cry from the joy of it. You downed half the glass and heard him from beyond it. “Easy, hen. Drink slow. Ye can have as much as ye want.”

You reluctantly pull the glass from your lips and lick them, the saliva that had burst forth from your mouth now that you’d had something to drink was overflowing and you wondered how you could have produced so much in such a short amount of time if you had been so extremely parched just moments ago.

With it under control you made another attempt at speaking. “Johnny? What’s going on?” He took the glass from your hand and set it down on the nightstand next to the bed. “Well lass, ye had a bit too much tae drink I’d say. I’m no doctor hen, but if ah’m nae mistaken I’d have tae say maybe there was a bit more to it than jus’ that.”

You definitely had had too much to drink last night. But had you? You certainly don’t remember drinking in excess but then again you couldn’t really remember much of anything about last night. Wait, what did he just say? “What do you mean Johnny?”

“Well hen, I’m no expert, but I’d say maybe ye weren’t watchin’ yer drinks too closely and I’d say maybe someone might’ve spiked ye.” What? Spiked you, like roofies or something? That can’t be. Can it? But fuck your head did hurt something unnatural.

“Ahh fuck, Johnny. I’m late for work, I’ve gotta go.” You begin to pull back the covers and get up when you notice you’re naked from the waist down. “Johnny! What the fuck! Where are my pants?”

“Jus’ slow down there, hen. First of all ye dinnae need tae worry about work, I’ve already called in tae say ye won’t be comin’ in today. Yer in no condition fer it and as yer personal trainer I took it upon mahself tae take care of ye in yer time of need. Dinnae worry, Johnny’s gotcha.”

You groan as the headache throbs back into focus with a vengeance. You have sooo many questions, like how did you get here? How did he find you? What happened? How does he know where you work and how did he call into your work and use one of your sick days for you? They swirl behind your eyes, pulsing in time with the throb of your head and instead of asking all of them like you should, you just don’t. There’ll be plenty of time for questions later.

Instead you grab again for the glass of juice and down it. With it empty he takes it from you and stands. “I’ll get ye some more, are ye hungry?” The question reawakens the grumbling earthquake in your belly and you look up at him and nod. He smiles and says nothing just turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

You sit in place for a moment, staring down at the bed and trying to get a grip on your memories of last night. You remember Nancy suggesting the two of you go out, you remember not wanting to, you remember getting ready and getting in the cab anyway and then it all takes on a fuzzy, unreal feel, like a dream instead of something that actually occurred.

You remember drinking and dancing but not much else. The watch on your wrist vibrates and it surprises you, you’re not sure why, you’ve only taken it off a handful of times to charge it but there’s something about it, a piece of knowledge floating on a cloud above you, refusing to grace you with its enlightenment.

You have a look through it, see the text notifications from Nancy.

“Where are you!” 12:29 am

“Are you alright?” 12:35 am

“Ok well, Thanks for coming out tonight, it was fun!” 12:44 am

“See you tomorrow ☺️” 12:47am

“Sure, you have like a dozen of them, I’ll let Mrs. Magna know. don’t worry about it.” 6:45am

All of her replies were there as notifications, but with only her half of the conversation at your fingertips you could only imagine what was said. You assume you told her something about leaving and then the last text was about not coming into work today but you certainly weren’t up at six in the morning, you didn’t feel like you were working off of only three hours of sleep.

You had to find your phone and see the rest of the texts. You got out of bed and remembered you were naked from the waist down. In all your confusion you’d forgotten to make him explain that detail, you’d have to ask him again later.

You stood and made your way over to the dresser, pulling the top drawer open and found a neatly folded stack of boxers and socks, not what you were looking for. The next was full of shirts, also of no use to you. The third drawer down you found what you were searching for. Pulling out a pair of sweatpants you pulled them up and around your waist.

Ok, that’s one thing taken care of, now you need to locate your clutch. You look around the room, on the other side of the bed, open the two other doors in the room Johnny didn’t leave through to find a bathroom and a closet. It’s in the closet you find it but still not your pants, they must be somewhere else. You pull the phone from it and immediately begin to go through your messages.

Nancy is the only person you’ve messaged in the last twenty four hours and the conversation is foreign. The first text is from Nancy asking where you are and you had replied

“Goin’ home.” 12:32 am

That’s it? That’s all you said? That doesn’t sound like a text you would write, you’d add more detail and reassure her that you’re ok. You decide to read out the whole thing.

“Where are you!” 12:29 am

“Goin’ home.” 12:32am

“Are you alright?” 12:35 am

“Fine, just had too much to drink.” 12:42am

“Ok well, Thanks for coming out tonight, it was fun!” 12:44 am

“Oh yeah, so much fun!” 12:45am

“See you tomorrow ☺️” 12:47am

“Nancy, I won’t be coming in to work today. Can’t stop getting sick. Feel so bad. Just can’t get out of bed. Can I use one of my designated sick days?” 6:30am

“Sure, you have like a dozen of them, I’ll let Mrs. Magna know. don’t worry about it.” 6:45am

???? You don’t text like that? It’s all so short hand and formal. Did Nancy really not notice how unlike you these texts were? Of course she didn’t, she was as drunk as you were.

You lock your phone as you hear him approaching the door and slip it into the pocket of your sweats. He walks in and stops in the doorway, a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. You think for a moment he may drop them but he seems to recover and sets them down on the nightstand and rushes over to you.

You are immobilized with shock as he grabs you, hands sliding down your legs, planting his firm palms on the globes of your ass and lifting. You can feel the pure strength he possesses as he pulls you up his body and into his arms with no assistance from you whatsoever. Your mouth parts in surprise and he takes the opportunity to seize your lips with his, tongue slipping inside and melting to yours.

It felt good, his lips against yours after so long, you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed it until they were upon you again and for just a moment you let yourself be lost to it. Your watch beeped and you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled away, embarrassed at being ousted once again by it.

You wanted to slip out of his arms but he held you steady, his mouth moved to your ear with a slow trail of kisses. When he reached it he whispered into it. “Did he miss me, hen? Cause I missed you.” He gently lowered your body down his until your ass nudged something hard, his erection prodding you eagerly.

“Jus’ cannae help it, hen. Saw ye wearing’ mah sweats an’ just about took ye right there against the dresser. Gonna give a man a heart attack surprisin’ me like that.” You let out a surprised little gasp as he nipped at the shell of your ear. “But there’ll be plenty of time for that later. My lass is hungry isn’t she?”

You nodded, the angry pit that had become your stomach crying out at the mention of food. He let you down and followed you back to the bed, the surface dipped as you both sat onto its plush surface. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the plate he’d carried in.

Sitting atop it were two round things, they looked sort of like huge meatballs. You looked up at him curiously. He simply picked one up off the plate and handed it to you. “Try it.” Hesitantly you picked yours up. It was crisp to the touch and smelled faintly like oil. Definitely deep fried whatever it was. You looked up at him once more and he nodded encouragingly. You brought it up to your mouth and took a small bite.

The rich, savory flavor of sausage floated over your tongue and you welcomed it. You chewed and swallowed and went back for a second bigger bite, this time biting into the core and getting hard boiled egg along with the sausage and you looked up to see Johnny smiling and digging into his own breakfast.

“Johnny, what is this? It’s delicious.” You took another bite as he explained. “Scotch egg. Mah mum used tae make em’ when I was wee. They’re a personal favorite. Do ye like it?” You nodded, and munched on the egg appreciatively.

“You're a good cook, Johnny.” He beams under your compliment, cheeks reddening, eyes bright and gleaming you barely catch a glimpse of as he quickly looks away to try and offset the effects. “S’nothing, hen. Cookings jus’ chemistry an’ I’ve always been good at that.”

This sparks a memory, the jumpstart of a thought just like the first that just refuses to reveal itself fully, there and gone, like someone hit you with the forget it stick.

Before you can think about it too hard he picks up the mug next to him and hands it to you. It’s warm and fragrant, a nice hot cup of coffee and as you took a sip your face puckered up a bit as the bitter twinge hit your tongue, it had a distinct pungent aftertaste, there was definitely alcohol mixed in.

He laughed and you scowled at him a little. “S’just a nip, Bonnie. It’ll help with yer hangover.” You grumbled a little and took another swallow, it went down easier the second time.

Eating made you feel a little better you had to admit, but then those questions you had made themselves evident again, circling your mind and trying to push past your lips. Before you could voice them he began asking questions of his own.

“How have ye been, lass?”

“Fine.” You lie immediately, it’s first nature. What were you supposed to tell him? You’ve been moping for a week? Just trudging through life like a lost puppy since you'd seen him last? Your watch starts to beep, indicating a tick up in your heart rate. “Lass.”

You can’t look at him, you avoid it even though you can feel the icy stare of his baby blues chilling you and you have to suppress a shiver. “I’ve been fine, works just been… hard on me.”

The watch stops as your heart rate slows. “Have ye been doin’ yer homework still?” Easy question, you answer honestly and the watch stays quiet. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment and you think the interrogation is over but then he drops the hard one.

“Why haven’t ye come back to the gym, bonnie?” You tense a bit in your spot. What would you say? That you can’t? Does he not know your trial is up? That you can’t possibly afford a membership? What would he say if he knew you’d been by, everyday for a week but have just been too chicken to go in?

You force yourself to relax and answer nonchalantly over another bite of your egg. “My trial ended.” You prayed that he’d leave it at that, but he didn’t. “So ye havnae come back because yer trial ended.” You nod to avoid speaking but the watch on your wrist says it all for you, it beeps against your words, turning your truth into lies. “Bonnie.”

The stupid thing won’t stop. Why? Why do you keep this thing on? Yet another errant memory tries to come to the surface. Something about that watch but it’s not clear, you just can’t remember. It hurts almost, the strain of trying to remember things that just won’t disclose themselves so you let it go and give him a piece of the truth. “Ok, so I’ve been by once or twice, but I didn’t go in, I just was passing by.”

You stuff the last of the egg into your mouth to quiet yourself. He scoots closer and pulls the plate from your hands, setting it down on the nightstand as you swallow and take a sip of your coffee. He takes that from you too and there’s nothing left to hide behind.

“Why did ye nae say anything tae me, ye didnae text me or anything, jus’ disappeared.” You felt hot all over, guilty and shamed, you can feel it pulling at you, tugging you with ropes, go to him they say. Push yourself into his arms and promise him you’ll never leave. Atone.

You can’t. You have questions of your own. You take your watch off, eyes locked with his as you undo the clasp and you can see the panic in his eyes but it turns to confusion as you wrap the gadget, in all its golden beauty around his wrist. He furrows his brows but doesn’t pull away, just sits and lets you.

“What happened to me last night?” He shifts a bit but you hold his arm steady, the sensors pick up his vitals and perhaps it’s dawned on him what you were doing, but if he did he didn’t fight it. “I was comin’ home late and I ran into ye outside of the club. Ye were hanging ontae the wall, couldnae even walk, hen. I tried talkin’ tae ye, tried tae find out who you’d been with but ye were out of it so I brought ye home tae sleep it off.”

The watch stayed silent the whole time, not a beep out of it. “Practically had tae carry ye if ah’m honest. Pretty lucky I came by I’d say. Ye were right sloshed.”

You didn’t know what to say, you should be thanking him but there’s still a rift between what he’s saying and what feels like truth. He just happened to be walking by just as you just happened to be outside of the club. Did you go outside by yourself? Really?

Why would you not be with Nancy? Why would you not have talked to her first? Clearly you hadn’t because she’d texted you and asked where you were. And if you’d been too drunk to walk, how could you have texted Nancy to tell her that you were going home? You were supposed to believe you could text intelligibly but not stand upright without gripping the wall? Why can’t you remember anything?

You wished you could remember more but you can’t and your little mock lie detector test hadn’t indicated he was lying to you, it sure as hell had ratted out your lies. You decided he had to be telling you the truth, as odd and coincidental as his story was, it wasn't impossible.

You sigh, accepting his account of the night before as valid, despite your inconsistencies and you felt him slip the watch off his wrist and drape it carefully over yours, he secures the clasp and lifts your hand up to his mouth and kisses the pulse point just below where the clasp sits. A soft press of his lips in a kiss so tender you feel your face heating up at the gentleness of the gesture.

He climbs up your arm in kisses, outside looking in it would have been comical to watch him treat you like Pepe Le Pew. The sheer affection in it almost cheesy but all you could do in the moment was relax into his touch. He’s reached your neck and your head dips to the side automatically, giving him more access and he takes it. Lips parting as they skim your jaw until they’re over your lips and you lean into his kiss, anticipating it, you want it, crave so very badly to be swept up by it, but he stops and leans back.

“How do ye feel?” It’s a simple question really and you find that somewhere between breakfast and your recount of last night your headache had subsided and you had a whole day ahead of you with nothing to worry about, no work to do, just you and Johnny. You felt exalted, after a week of trudging through your love sick blues you now somehow had everything you really wanted right at your fingertips.

But you couldn’t tell him that. So you just told him that you felt better and smiled, the first genuine smile you’ve had all week and it must be enough because he leans back in like he’s read your mind and gives you what you were wishing for.

His lips are soft but demanding, urgent in their press against yours and you have no choice but to succumb to their will. You lean back and he follows, chasing your lips until you’re pressed back against the pillow and he’s straddling you, strong arms stationed on either side of your head as his tongue pushes into your mouth and dominates yours.

You want more, want to roll him over and mount him, spend the rest of today alternating between riding him until your legs quivered and being flipped over and ravaged but he has different plans as he pulls away from you and backs off the bed. You stare at him in disbelief as he gathers up the dishes, smiling that gorgeous toothy grin as he does it.

“Dinnae look at me like that. We’ve got work tae do, hen.” You can’t believe he’s actually walking away from you until he does it, leaving you to stew in your arousal and stare after him. He’s gone for a bit and when he comes back you've already gotten up, made the bed and now sit on the edge watching him expectantly. He rifles through his drawers for clothes, setting out an outfit for him and then disappears into his closet, he comes out with a very familiar bag.

“What work?” He smiles and flexes, biceps bulging as he shows off his guns, you’re lost a bit at the sight of them. If he wasn’t anything else he sure was handsome, strong and lean just like you’d always fancied men to be. It’s like he’d appeared from your teenage dreams and you took him as sort of obsessed with you on top of it, an intoxicating combination indeed. “Why, our next session a’course. What else, hen?”

He hands it over to you nonchalantly and begins to strip. You recognize it immediately, It’s your overnight bag. You pull the bag close and try not to stare as he pulls his shirt off. Rummaging through it you find your workout clothes, garments you’ve worn around him multiple times, nothing shocking but you find more than just that, the bag is practically overflowing, stuffed full.

In the bag are also sets of clothes that you usually lounge around the house in, comfy things that no one ever sees you in. There’s also a few outfits that you’d normally wear to work, business casual folded neatly in the bottom. There's underwear and bras and even a couple pairs of shoes. There’s a smaller bag of toiletries tucked in the side pocket. It looks like a bag you’d pack yourself when planning to be away from home for a weekend or maybe a whole week by the sheer volume of your wardrobe stuffed into it.

“Johnny.” You look up from the bag and catch his gaze as he pulls his shorts up around his waist. “Aye, lass.”

You don’t even bother asking him the first few questions that come to mind like when did you pack this? And how? How did you know where everything was? How did you so perfectly root through my clothes and pack me a bag so thoroughly accurate of what I’ll need while I’m away? You could even see your soap, shampoo, conditioner and toothbrush. Everything you could possibly need he had grabbed.

But you don’t know how to ask him those things, don’t even know if you’d want the answer to them if you could so instead you ask the one question you don’t think you already know the answer to.

“Why is there so much?” He looks up at you like the answer is obvious and you’re stupid or perhaps just playing coy. “So ye could stay.” And he says it like it’s a concrete thing, as sound as the sea, the decisions already been made. Signed. Sealed. Delivered.

“What are you talking about?” He looks at you and his eyes are piercing and serious. “Ye cannae go home. S’nae safe.”

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod soap #twdubcon #dark!johnny #darkfic

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wayfayrr · 5 months

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I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them

Source: the Owl House :)

I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)

[masterlist]

“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!”

“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”

Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either.

“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”

“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”

That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”

“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”

“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”

I hope he doesn’t.

He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.

It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.

Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.

It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it.

Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!

IT’S STILL ALIVE!?

Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it -

Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side.

“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”

Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.

“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”

“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”

Is that really what I sound like right now… I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.

I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?

“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”

A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so.

“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”

The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.

“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”

“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”

“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”

“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn’t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”

Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected.

“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”

A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?

“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”

Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…

“We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”

He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while.

“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”

“I will Wars, I swear.”

“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”

#linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #humans are space orcs #kinda #feels appropriate still <3 #this is the heaviest angst I've written so far lol #moss✦writes #lu warriors x reader #lu warriors #yandere link

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apalapucian · 23 days

Text

green light (2024 ver.)

an: old fic rewrite; the war is over, everybody lives AU. (well, not everybody everybody, but the potter family + sirius + remus + even peter* live.) entire fic under the cut. also on ao3 (better formatted there lol). * = you'll see.

—

1982

saying certain names out loud still hurts, so they don't.

they wake up early. a nervous hush settles in the whole house, the kind they thought has gone over the past year, but — well, it is october 31st. it's bound to return. not to haunt them, exactly. just remind them maybe. that they ought to stop a bit. commemorate. they owe it to their friends. they owe it to — frank and alice.

frank and alice. water beats down james's bare back and he leans a hand against the tiled wall before him, the other reaching up to massage his nape. he breathes deep slow breaths through his mouth, watches rivulets chase each other on the floor. thinks, what does it take to wash all the guilt away? frank and alice, frank and alice...

he steps out of the shower and stares his reflection down in the bathroom mirror. frank and alice.

yeah. still stings.

he holds lily's hand under the table throughout breakfast, and lily smiles — soft, fond, if a bit incredulous — at his one-handed attempt to eat.

it's still dark when they step out. they don't leave harry. they can't.

they apparate before old rusty gates, harry's tiny fists balling up and clutching james's shirt at the racket, but otherwise staying asleep in his father's arms. he looks so calm, their harry, so content in slumber. james strokes his hair and kisses the top of his head. he's sorry for everything else, he really is. but he's not sorry that harry's here, safe and close and breathing against his chest.

the graves look new. augusta, james guesses with a pang. lily stoops down to press a hand over alice's name, brushing away a stray leaf. they don't say anything. lily sniffs, and james puts his free arm around her.

the walk back out is better, lighter. lily's hand is no longer dawn-cold. harry stirs again, his usual wake-up time now, opening his eyes at the sound of the gates creaking close. for a moment it seems like he's going to cry, but the sun breaks over the horizon, and in awe he watches the light spill onto the dewy graveyard over james's shoulder.

—

1983

james is asleep, and lily rolls over to her other side to stare at the window. it's a wider window, and there's a different tree silhouetted against the dark, an unfamiliar picture framed in the night-dimmed white wood. the insects are quieter here, and the stars are... hmm. shier. although it might just be the weather, of course. the lone desk in the room is devoid of her potion books, of her research notes. no quidditch posters are tacked on the walls. no gryffindor things. the shelves, too. the list goes on and on, a disorderly parade of bullet points going too fast, so fast that even james's quiet breaths from behind her can't catch up and calm her down this time: the floors creak in different places. the staircase is longer, wider — not by much, still nothing to james's family house, but the difference is still stark. there is a patch of mildew in a corner of the kitchen ceiling. the cupboards are empty, two spare rooms are unfurnished, they need a new couch, maybe a coffee table, yellow roses in the garden...

she closes her eyes and sighs. for now, she reminds herself. mostly empty for now. and there's nothing wrong with that. there's nothing wrong with coming here, leaving godric's hollow. they needed this. she and james and harry. godric's hollow was home, but it was home during the war, and try as they all did to sweep away the remnants of battle from its corners, it stayed in the air and taunted them every time the house got too still, too quiet. echoes of terrible midnight news lingered, and the constant attacks of... of uncertainty, of terror still. god, the terror. of being shut up forever. of getting fucking murdered when they step out. of losing everything at any given second.

they needed this. this is right. it will be a better home.

a short, stuttering creak cuts through the silence, startling lily's thoughts. she turns, and harry is in the doorway. (they leave the door open so they can hear the house and harry, a habit they haven't shaken yet.) in the dim room, lit only by what little light spills in through the window, lily makes out her son's furrowed brows and the jutted-out bottom lip.

she raises a hand to beckon him in, but before she can speak, james says, "hey, mate," without any indication of having been sleeping at all.

she sits up to survey her husband in surprise, but his currently specs-less eyes are fixed, squinting, on harry, who shuffles into the room feet bare and glasses askew and hair a mirror of the same storm on his father's head. he stops at the foot of the bed and says in his tired little voice, "can i sleep here?"

"of course," says james, who's sat up now as well. "d'you want us to go to your room then?"

"daaadddd," groans harry, and james laughs, and he and lily scoot to the sides so harry can cuddle in between them. the pillows are righted and the sheets are pulled up to harry's chin. his glasses are laid beside james's on the bedside table.

"okay, i think i can sleep now," says harry, eyes already closed.

they all go silent then, james and lily just staring at each other in the dark over their son; wearing the same content, worried, happy, tired, everything almost-smile.

james reaches out for lily's hand, tracing circles against her knuckles with his thumb. harry shifts a little beneath, mumbles, "all right, mum? daddy?"

and their almost-smiles crack into full sigh-smiles of relief; an exhale of happiness they didn't know they were holding in.

"yeah, we are."

"sweet dreams, harry."

—

1984

she wakes up late and james is not beside her when she does. her heart skips a beat, but the panic doesn't last long anymore, and she feels more sure of her steps and the floor and their presence here than she ever was.

three years. three whole years, and it's really, really gone, isn't it?

there are yellow roses on the kitchen table. a cup of coffee charmed to keep warm for a time. a scrawled "morning! :) –james & harry" on a scrap of paper, the torn bottom of a receipt for... milk, she finds. and strawberries. harry was signed by harry himself, and lily wants to cry at the shaky strokes, the crooked lines. she can hear them in the other room where james's window seat project is almost finished. harry is laughing. he asks questions, mocks his dad's shabby handiwork, drops the things he's asked to hand.

roses and handwritten notes and coffee and giggles nearby. this is her life now. she skims the flowers, the sun itself in her heart.

—

1985

"d'you think moony's okay?" sirius asks, sat all thoughtful and cross-legged on the counter, and james wonders if he realizes that this isn't the first time he's asked him this. not even the second time.

"dunno," says james, feigning distractedness. good thing it doesn't take much at the moment. he looks at his reference sheet for recipe number three, taped on the wall, barely making out his own handwriting. cooking without magic is such a hassle. but he's in charge of it this year, and — because he's a proud dumbo, an arrogant toerag — he asked lily and harry to get out of the house while he cooks up the greatest dinner of their lives, so that none of lily's interventions or harry's endless bouts of 'taste-testing' ruin it. yeah, he thinks, because he's ruining it on his own just fine, thank you. "hey, will you pass me that jar — no, not that — yes. thanks..."

silence. james glances at sirius without moving his head, and is filled with exasperation at the look on his face. he asks, "look, why don't you just owl him?"

"he might still be mad at me," says sirius, and the immediacy of his response is proof, yet again, of how much he's been thinking about this.

not that james hasn't been. it's just — moony needs it. he needs to be away and sulking or whatever right now. but he'll be back. james is sure. till then there's nothing to do but wait.

which sirius sucks at, apparently. "d'you think i shouldn't have said anything?" he asks.

james stalls by ticking off two more instructions, probably getting the measurements wrong, but what the hell. "i don't know," he answers eventually.

sirius rolls his eyes. "loads of help, you are."

he gets a puff of flour in the face for that. james didn't need to look at him to aim. he smirks when he hears him cough and swear.

and then, later, while sprinkling salt (that's definitely way too much salt than just the required 'pinch'), james adds, quietly, "no, i don't think so."

"huh?"

"i think it's good that you — " james repeats, but he is distracted, because he looks up and notices how clean sirius looks. james is like, marinade-smeared and flour-dusted all over. "you know," he starts, "you're no better help than harry around here. at least he doesn't ask stressful questions while i work."

"first of all, you're not working," sirius retorts. "you're — i don't know, bullshitting this. second of all," this he says with a hand held up to silence james, who was about to talk back, "so it does stress you out. i knew it. you were trying to be all cool about it but i knew."

"oh, shut up. of course it stresses me out, padfoot, you always stress me out. you're an extremely stressful person. and this is even especially stressful. you're my best friends. but — like i said, i don't think it."

"don't think what?"

"that you shouldn't have said anything. i think it's good that you told him. otherwise it would have been this big wedge between you two, and no one would like that. not me, not lily, not you two."

sirius frowns. "so you like that he's not talking to us?"

"he talks to me," james points out, "and lily."

sirius arches a brow at him.

"fine, i don't like that you two aren't talking. but you obviously still feel guilty. you're always so... polite. so careful around him. you don't think we don't notice? and that wouldn't change unless he forgives you, which would never happen if he didn't know you had an offense to begin with."

"yeah, well. now he knows, and he hates us."

"just you, mate."

"thank you, prongs."

james drops what he's doing. "of course he'd react this way! you did tell him you didn't trust him. that you thought — "

" — i thought he was the spy, yeah. but that was before, you know that. you know it, don't you?"

"i do know it, padfoot."

"now i know — for sure — that i can trust him with my..."

"your life?" james prompts, when sirius leaves the sentence hanging.

"well, no. i don't know. my motorcycle, maybe."

"same thing."

" — true."

they stare at each other; sirius drags his gaze away first to pull his god this is so stupid face. "why did i have to fucking tell him? it's long over. we're all okay now. i should just have kept it to myself. forever. god."

"stop beating yourself up. you — hm. you get a point for honesty from me."

"it wasn't even honesty. it wasn't like anyone asked."

"well, you were drunk. we all were a bit."

"i screwed up."

" — yes, you did."

sirius looks scandalized. "wow. you didn't even hesitate."

"i've already made two excuses for you and i'm this close to dumping this casserole over your head," says james. "let's give him a week, okay? no — three more days. if he still doesn't talk to you then, i'll talk to him. but let him stew for now, yeah?"

sirius sighs. he doesn't say yes or nod or anything, but james can tell when he concedes. they leave the topic at that, and sirius begins his three-day wait by finally jumping off the counter to help. he briefly surveys james's dish (or what atrocity has become of it), narrows his eyes at the godawful handwriting, and then thumps james on the head. "you forgot number four, master chef," he points out, jabbing a finger on his cheat sheet.

"oh goddamn it..."

—

1986

harry goes missing. sirius picks remus up from hogsmeade and they drive to the potters' on his motorcycle, sirius barging in before remus can knock.

"how long does it take you two to change?" sirius scolds james and lily, while they all rummage around harry's usual hiding places, finding nothing. "you got fucking distracted, didn't you? i swear to god — "

"he wishes," snaps lily. "he was being an idiot."

"oh i'm being an idiot — " begins james, but remus and sirius cut him off.

"you were arguing?"

they (that is to say remus) find harry in the cramped cupboard under the stairs. he fell asleep. with james's invisibility cloak, which he procured without the knowledge or permission of his parents, as it turns out, and honestly sirius doesn't know whether to be admonitory or proud about that, and is only glad that it's not his business to be either.

"i was only going to scare you," harry says, looking properly guilty. "but you took so long to come down! i fell asleep."

"you succeeded, mate," says remus. "we were all very scared."

"never ever disappear on us like that again," lily tells off harry, but she's hugging him so fiercely, and james is still raking his fingers through his hair, wild-eyed, but is now also looking at his wife and son like he's forgotten whatever petty fight held them up upstairs. as he should, really.

james kisses her long and hard on the doorstep before she leaves to meet some important guy for work or some other. remus, who's leaving with her as he's supposed to go back to hogwarts now that the problem's solved, rolls his eyes while he waits for the gross affair to finish. sirius is staying in the house with james. he fakes retching gestures at the conitnued kissing, making harry giggle.

later, in the living room, sirius and harry swap chocolate frog cards. james is in the kitchen, doing the dishes. in the late afternoon lull, harry softly confides to sirius that while waiting in his nook earlier, before he fell asleep, he thought his parents might never bother to try and find him anymore.

"nah, they'll always find you. did you see them? they were all — " he makes exaggerated expressions of anguish. harry laughs again.

"but i was 'sleep then. what if i wasn't? what if i'm just lost?"

"they'd still find you."

"even if i have the cloak?"

"why are you lost and wearing the cloak?"

"um. i dunno."

sirius nods solemnly. "even if you have the cloak."

"even if it was under aunt petunia's stairs?"

sirius laughs. "even if you were under my mum's stairs."

harry grimaces at that. and then, "uncle moony found me though," says harry.

"does it matter?" says sirius, rumpling harry's hair. then he gently rights his glasses. "he just beat your dad to it. and me. and your mum. but one of us is always, always going to find you... oh, look — " he fishes a card from his deck, trapping it between index and middle finger and then flicking it neatly towards harry's pile. "it's your granddad!"

the longer harry stares at it, the deeper the lines between his eyebrows get. "why is... um, my hair's not gonna be like that when i grow up, is it?"

—

1987

lily shifts in her seat so she can look miss cole square in the eye. beside her, james squeezes her hand, but she doesn't know if he's just being twitchy. "i just don't see how anyone can turn someone else's hair entirely blue," explains lily, "without the other's... ah, full participation."

"and eyebrows," james reminds her, nudging her side.

lily nods. "and eyebrows, yes. thank you, james."

"you're welcome, lily."

miss cole looks positively pained from behind her desk, with her lips pursed mcgonagall-thin and her beady eyes sinking beneath her frown-lines. she inspects james and lily and harry, the last standing beside his seated father and is still glaring in contempt at the other boy in the room. kevin. big burly kid who could so easily have been dudley's twin brother, if not for his hair (and eyebrows) being the most vivid shade of lapis lazuli at the moment. his parents (filthy rich from what they've heard) are not around; he's accompanied instead by a furious, flustered, really bewildered nanny named (nicknamed?) baby.

"kevin says he did it," says baby, pointing a wrinkly-knuckled finger at harry. she speaks in this loud spitting hiss that's her attempt at 'keeping quiet' after getting told off so many times for being so loud. "kevin would never do this to himself — "

"oh, why not? it looks amazing on him," says james, straight face and amazement and concern and all. harry's glare breaks, but he has the sense to bite down on his lip to keep his laugh in.

harry doesn't get in too much trouble for it, thank god, mostly for lack of evidence. lily had a point, and miss cole is driven to just conclude that the boys must have just agreed to mess around and color kevin's hair, and kevin initially agreed, except now he looks (even more) ridiculous and he's not happy about it. (what happened, really, if anyone wants to know, was that between morning break and maths kevin wanted to give harry a free haircut, because he thought his classmate 'four-eyes' looked stupid with his 'mop-head'. he stole harry's glasses, cornered him, held him by the collar and loomed triumphantly over him with a pair of scissors — then harry grappled blindly at his head and his hair was just — suddenly. all. blue.)

harry and kevin mutter their respective apologies, as asked of them by miss cole, and harry glances warily at his parents when the counselor asks them to shake hands. lily nods; james smiles at him, puts a hand around his shoulders and urges him forward. harry swallows at the glint in kevin's eye when he takes his small hand in his hammy fingers, ready to retaliate — but then james cocks his head to one side and — lily couldn't entirely see, standing behind, but she's pretty sure james just gave kevin the look. not the glare, he reserves that for equal grounds. it's the look; that calm, icy, smug, unhinged james potter look that knows it can't lose and dares you to try. it has made fully grown adversaries waver in the past, so lily can only imagine how downright terrifying that could be to a seven-year-old.

kevin drops harry's hand in barely two seconds. he's out of the office in five.

james glances back at lily to smirk. she smirks right back.

—

1988

the parlor is crowded, but they find an available table for two in the patio, under the shade of a giant green umbrella. halfway through his ice cream (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts), harry adjusts his glasses and opens his mouth to say something, but his uncle moony beats him to it: "the answer is no, harry."

"i wasn't gonna ask again!"

"alright. what is it then?"

"i was only going to say... that i promise not to tell anyone. i promise. not even daddy. or mum!"

remus laughs. "d'you think they don't know?"

harry's eyes widen, and he actually drops his spoon in disapproval. "they know what your boggart is? why won't you tell me?"

"because i don't want to lie to you. you're a grown up now, as you're so constantly reminding us — and we're friends! but i also don't want to tell you what it is yet."

"but — "

"come on now, harry."

"but now you're missing the list."

"i'm truly sorry about that."

harry pouts, digs in again, and then, "okay, what about your patronus?"

remus considers this for a moment. "wolf," he says quietly.

"cool."

remus beams at him. "yeah, cooler than your dad's. and padfoot's."

"oh. hm. well, i don't know about that," he quips honestly. "i do like that dad's is a stag... hey, uncle moony?"

"yeah?"

"what about uncle padfoot? does he know? i won't tell him, if you're worried about that."

remus chuckles, leaning over to wipe chocolate off harry's nose. "i'm sorry, he knows. look, how about i take you to hogwarts next sunday? i'll take you to the kitchens. that'll make up for being the lame uncle, won't it?"

harry lightens up. "really?"

"yes."

"yes! yes, please. thank you."

"alright then."

"can we go on saturday?"

"ah, no. the joke shop's opening on saturday."

"oh, yeah..."

ice cream is finished and the walk home is a quiet, autumn-colored calm. when the crowd thins on a particular stretch of the road, harry nudges remus's side. "hey, uncle moony."

"i really hope you're not going to ask me again."

"i wasn't."

"go on, then."

harry grins up at him. "i don't think you're lame at all."

—

1989

"you're kidding," says james, reverent and awestruck, and lily knows she's made the right decision.

"we're not," she replies in sing-song.

"but this is... this is the latest comet." he runs his hand along the smooth length of the new racing broom, mouth still open in amazement. "how — "

"we all pitched in. sirius and remus and — "

"and me!" says harry, jumping in and hugging what he can reach of james. he's been bursting since the idea came forth, and it's a miracle, really, that he managed to keep the secret in until now. "i pitched in! i broke mr. jupiter!"

"you broke mr. jupiter?" says james, torn away from the moment at once. "but mr. jupiter was for your broom! and you love mr. jupiter! you loved his smooth pink butt!"

harry giggles. "mum bought me another one. it's a tardis piggy bank! it's bigger on the inside. and uncle moony said hogwarts has brooms there i can practice with, dad, and uncle padfoot said he'd buy me a broomstick himself once i'm a really, really good flier. and, dad, they said — you're going to play in the world cup."

"oh. i — who said?"

"all of us," says lily, smirking.

"that's... the world cup. huh."

"yeah!" says harry, almost yelling now, practically bouncing in excitement. "you're going to play for puddlemere united, aren't you? i mean, the wasps are fine too, and i suppose the magpies would be excellent as well, but — "

"easy, harry," says lily. her grin is ear-splitting.

james holds up a hand. "alright, back up one second — but, lily, your work — "

"they've given me permission to work on the potions research at home. i can use the spare room upstairs — don't worry, harry and i have it all sorted out. right, harry?"

"yeah, we have." harry holds up his palm for a high-five, lily gives it to him, and james grins at them fondly.

"there's also that prophet column still going," continues lily, "and the boys already said tom can handle the joke shop just fine on his own now. i just thought... you haven't forgotten, have you? i know you always tell me it's okay, but i see you when you play with harry, and... it's always been your dream. you can now, james. go for it."

james exhales a shuddering sigh of disbelief, overwhelmed. and then, shaking his head at... them, at the feeling of being with them here, now, god — he drops the broom and takes his wife's face into his hands. her lips taste like flying, like winning, like lily evans under the beech tree by the lake that very first time, and so, so, so much more —

"good thing uncle padfoot's not here," remarks harry, righting the broom up from the floor and watching his parents in equal euphoria. "you guys are disgusting."

—

1990

kingsley shacklebolt is minister for magic, and james doesn't have to (re)practice his patronus charms, because it's a tall, bushy-eyebrowed auror who leads him down the poorly lit corridor and not a swarm of hooded barbarities who want to suck out his soul. the auror leaves him by a cell almost to the end of the hallway, and there's nothing at first, just varying shades of darkness everywhere james turns, the echoing beats of water dripping, the muffled rage of waves around the island. he thinks he can hear laughter from somewhere close; a cold, high-pitched female giggling, and he considers just walking out because — christ. this place is mad. but then there's movement from the corner, behind the bars, and then he's in front of him, and james... doesn't know. feels a lot of things. wants to punch him, most of all.

"prongs," says wormtail. no — peter. peter pettigrew. his voice is a scratchy whisper, his face sunken and his hair a long wispy dead mess. he's thinner than james has ever seen him.

"shut up," says james, voice low. he feels the urge to back away one step, not expecting peter to cling on to the bars and hungrily squeeze his face through them to see him.

"prongs." he says it so reverently, like a god's name. "i'm — what are you — " he's surveying james up and down, drinking in anything he can from beyond azkaban. "prongs, fuck, i'm so happy you're here — "

"i said shut up. i didn't come here for you."

peter looks surprised, then hurt, then his grip on the metal loosens as a maniacal grin starts to spread on his lips. "clearly, you did. you can't help it. dear god, i can't believe i almost gave up."

james blinks at him in incredulity. "what?"

"i am sorry, prongs. i am. and i knew you'd know that, i knew you'd come back for me, but it's been so long — "

james starts to laugh. "are you insane?"

peter shuts up.

james looks at him, really looks at him, and the anger threatens to bubble up the surface again. but he holds himself down, keeps his clenched fists on his sides. he takes a deep breath, licks his lips, and then: "we're happy."

"i'm — sorry?"

there. that's why he's here. not to lash out, but to... to drop the last of what's still been weighing him down. and now that he's said that, we're happy — he didn't know it's what he was supposed to say, didn't plan it. it just sort of came out. but now he does feel like he just rid himself of the last of it. the last bad thing.

his hand slackens. he thinks of his first world league match next month, of sirius and regulus talking again, of remus getting promoted in hogwarts. lily and harry brewing potions in the spare room. idle evenings eating ice cream at the town plaza fountain. the joke shop's first anniversary. that time they danced to the weird sisters' new song in the rain... "we're happy," he repeats. "me and lily and harry. sirius. remus. everyone left is happy, pete. everyone alive."

peter opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"and i don't know if i've forgiven you. maybe i have, or maybe... i don't know, maybe i just stopped going back. i certainly haven't forgotten, but trust me, i will. soon enough no one will even remember you anymore."

"i'm..." but there's nothing peter can say now. maybe he really is sorry, and maybe it'll never be enough, but james doesn't care. and he knows that peter knows this, sees it on his face, because his former friend cuts his sentence short. "james..." not a god anymore.

"i'm done with you," says james, knowing it in his heart to be true. "goodbye, wormtail. from all of us."

and he's sure then that he really isn't angry anymore, that he's okay, truly and finally, because the name no longer hurts so much as it did years ago.

the same way, he thinks as he walks down the halls of the most desolate place on earth, feeling so strange to be so... so full of light, in a place like this — the same way frank and alice (and marlene and dorcas and benjy and gideon and fabian and all the others) haven't stung in a long while.

fin

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆˙⟡٠⭑.

bookmark/kudos/leave purple hearts on ao3? :) thanks for reading!

#jily #jily*#jily lives au #everybody lives au #jily au #jple #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #jily fic #wolfstar as cute uncles because. pls #domestic fluff #HAPPY ENDING!!!!!!!#apalapucian*

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sunshinevanfleet · 1 year

Text

flower - j. kiszka

pairing: josh x reader

a/n: helloooo i'm back with my first josh piece since i came back from hiatus <3 promise i'm planning on updating oh, what a sin here soon, but i wanted to post some josh content because i've been neglecting him lately. so, josh girlies come get y'all's food <3 this one does contain some smoking of the devil's lettuce so if that's not something you're into, then this one isn't for you. also, idk why i can't write anything under 2k words here lately i guess i'm dedicated to setting the scene for my porn. anyways, hope u cuties enjoy! ok love ya.

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), fluff

word count: 2.8k

summary: the reader and josh spend the morning smoking and spending time together. they find an interesting way to enjoy their high.

warnings: marijuana usage, swearing, explicit sex scenes, oral (f receiving), non-penetrative unprotected sex, etc.

A hum settled in your throat as you sat in the sunroom, legs crossed beneath you as you rested on the large cushion in the corner. Pillows surrounded you, cradling your form as you relaxed in the hazy room. Plumes of smoke billowed around your face, the room reeking of weed, sandalwood incense, and the numerous potted flowers surrounding you. A dreamlike state had overtaken you, your head swimming deliciously as you reveled in your high; Josh had gone back inside, grabbing a pre-roll out of the little baggie on the kitchen counter. He had always been able to smoke you under the table, but you gave it your best shot. Safe to say, you were on cloud nine.

“Should I open a window out here?” Josh waved his hand in front of his face as he joined you, the unlit joint resting between his lips. He leaned over your perch in the corner, his shirt brushing against your face as he reached for the window above you to open it. You giggled, watching his shirt ride up to reveal a sliver of his lower stomach above his sweatpants. Reaching up, you trailed one finger over the soft skin. Goosebumps bloomed, and he swatted your hand away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled halfheartedly, still grinning like an idiot. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“All right, silly goose,” he laughed, “Whose idea was it to hotbox the sunroom anyway?”

“Yours,” you sighed. You closed your eyes and laid back on the cushion, feeling your boyfriend settle onto the plush area beside you after a moment. “Dunno how we even managed that, anyway. This room’s huge.”

You heard the smile in his voice, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Then came the click of the lighter again, and you smelled another cloud of pungent smoke floating past your face. Then, the subtle breeze of Josh waving his hand through the air. Blindly, you reached for him, fingers skirting past the plants on the windowsill above you, and finding solace in the feeling of his skin against your fingertips. You brushed over the back of his neck, hand entangling in his curls. He sighed contentedly.

“Lay with me, will you?” you asked quietly. You finally forced your eyes open, blinking through the fog around you to eye your boyfriend. The early afternoon sunlight framed his face, shining across the planes of his gorgeous face. You admired his side-profile, watching as his lips curled around the joint and took a long pull. He put it out in the ashtray, his freehand resting on your bare shin. Though his palm was warm, the touch sent a shiver up your spine.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, then leaned down to settle into the cushions next to you. You turned to face him, your other hand curling beside its counterpart in his hair. You stared at him, admiring every miniscule detail of his being. From the tiny bump in his nose, to the growth patterns of his facial hair, to each microscopic pore on his face, you wanted to memorize him. You wanted to burn the sight of him into your mind forever, yours alone to keep. No one else would ever be in this moment with him; he was completely, entirely yours. You brushed one hand over his soft face, leaning in to press your lips against his. The touch was feather-light, barely even there as you laid there. He met your mouth with an exact match in delicacy, his breath mingling with yours.

“I love being close to you,” you whispered, blinking at the intensity in his gaze. You imagined your own expression matched his, blissed out by his presence in front of you. Your skin flushed as you felt his eyes examining you as closely as you had been him. You wanted to close your eyes, bashful, but you couldn’t force yourself to look away from him.

Josh smiled, dazzling you momentarily. “You’re so pretty, flower,” he brushed the back of his hand over your cheek. You moved one of your hands to grasp his, holding his soft hand against you. You pulled it to your lips, kissing his hand, his fingers, his palm. “Prettier than the sun, the moon, all the stars in the sky.”

You grinned at his words, your face flushing even more. Closing your eyes, you pressed his hand to your forehead, trying to hide your face.

“Oh, don’t get all shy on me now,” he giggled, peeling your hands away from your face. He began to pepper kisses all over your face, soft lips tickling your skin. You burst into laughter, his mustache tickling you as you struggled against him.

“You’re tickling me,” you breathed, writhing beneath him.

“Am I?” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, still kissing you. You squirmed, running your fingers through his curls as your chest shook with laughter. He moved his hands again, trailing down your sides to poke at your ribs and elicit squeals from you. You were both thrashing on the cushions, pillows flying across the room as you tried to fight him off.

“You’re killing me!” Your stomach ached from the laughter; he was holding you down easily, his arm muscles flexing deliciously as he pinned you to the floor and continued his onslaught with his mouth. You wiggled desperately, your hands pinned above your head by one of his. It always surprised you just how easily he could overpower you.

“Oh, I’m not done yet…” A mischievous glint flickered behind those honey brown irises, and you knew you were in for it. He was practically straddling you at this point, holding you down so there was no possible escape. His free hand slowly slithered down your side; you were still giggling, shifting beneath him to try and break free. You hissed as his hand trailed over your lower stomach, and found its destination. The inside of your thighs, where he had quickly found out you were extremely ticklish. You screamed with laughter, bucking your hips and jerking to try and get out of his grip.

He was still amused by this, but underneath that there was a darker look in his eyes.

“Hmm, okay,” he gasped after a second, “Ah, I think that’s enough…” You shifted beneath him, managing to twist your body so that your legs were now wrapped around his hips. But he no longer seemed as playful, instead his face was slightly pink and he leaned back on his haunches.

“What’s wrong?” Propping yourself up on your elbows, you eyed him carefully. You still had your legs hooked around him, and you tried to use your thighs to pull him in. Then, you felt it.

“Oh,” you said, eyes widening as a small smile tugged at your lips.

He flushed a deeper shade of crimson, pulling away from you.

“Who’s getting shy now?” you said, amused.

“Hey, don’t tease,” he whined, wrinkling up his nose. He was so cute, sitting there blushing. You wanted to ravish him.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you soothed.

Leaning up, you snaked an arm around his neck and pulled him back down against you. His skin burned against yours–coupled with the sun filtering in around you, you felt like you were on fire. Lips brushing his, you rolled your hips up against him. He was half-hard, though you could feel him stiffening as you kissed him, tongue darting out to greet his. He moaned softly against you.

“Need you,” he muttered, already panting by the time the two of you parted for breath. “Need to taste you…”

You sighed at the thought, watching him with hungry eyes as his hands trailed down your sides and found the waistband of your shorts. His eyes skirted down your body, sweeping over the thin t-shirt covering your bare chest, your exposed midriff, his sights finally landing on the shorts that he was dragging down with agonizing patience. Finally, he dragged them over your ankles and threw them to the side. His touch trailed back up your legs, hands massaging and squeezing the flesh as he made his way back towards your center. His fingers pressed into the skin of your thighs, pushing them open to expose your slick center to the air. You gasped as you felt the cold air, sending a shiver up your spine.

“This okay?” he asked, looking up at you with those saccharine eyes. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down your calf, slowly making his way to your inner thigh.

You nodded.

“Need to hear you, flower,” he breathed against your skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“Josh, please,” you sighed, chest heaving with the effort of not pouncing on him. “Please, I want your mouth on me…”

His lips parted into that dazzling smile. The sight of him between your legs was intoxicating; that smile, his curls shining gold in the light, the unwavering eye contact. A flutter shot through your stomach down to your center. His tongue darted out for a second to moisten his lips, and then he gave you exactly what you were craving.

A moan erupted out of you immediately; his lips wrapped around your clit, suckling softly. One of your hands found his hair, the other gripping one of the pillows below you. As he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, your eyelids began to flutter.

“Oh my…” you breathed, unable to even form a sentence as he continued his steady pace. One of his arms circled around your hips to pin you down; the other joined his mouth, prodding at your needy entrance. He coated the digits in your arousal, before inserting them into you slowly. Another breathy moan broke through the air around you.

You forced your eyes open to look down at him; his eyes held your gaze as he devoured you relentlessly. White hot pleasure pulled in your lower belly, coiling up at an unprecedented speed; at this rate, you would be cumming in less than a minute. Your toes curled as he massaged his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot. Your entire lower body clenched around him, your hand pulling at his curls with desperation.

“You like when I hit that little spot, don’t you, pretty girl?” He watched you intently. “So pretty writhing and moaning like that baby… I could just eat you up…” He circled his tongue around your clit, flicking the sensitive spot without any hesitation.

“Josh–” you gasped, your hips jerking beneath his strong grasp on your waist. “Shit, I’m gonna cum…”

He grinned, tongue licking your juices from his lips. He continued the slow thrusting of his fingers into you, keeping you right on the edge. “You want to cum, flower?”

You nodded, unable to speak as he entranced you with his movements. The sight of his fingers entering you steadily, his chin and mouth dripping with your arousal, the want in his eyes. A tremble shot through your thighs. You were so, so close…

“Please, baby,” your words were barely audible. Nothing more than a whisper as you shook under his ministrations.

There was that smile again. He could never deprive you of anything you wanted, especially not something that you were so desperate for. No, he was eager to please you. Anything for his precious flower.

He removed his fingers, now using both of his hands to pin your legs wide open. The muscles ached dully, but that was the last thing on your mind as his mouth reattached to your clit. He licked and sucked it with renewed vigor, sending electricity shooting through your entire body. You screamed in pleasure, your voice cracking as you held onto his golden locks to ground you. It felt like you were flying, your entire body seizing and shaking as you came. The muscles in your abdomen and legs tightened so much that it almost hurt. You cried out his name, and felt him smirk against your center. He enjoyed every second of your undivided attention, was content to worship your body for hours and hours if only to hear the sound of you crying out for him. He reveled in it, bathed in it, burned it into his mind as best as he could.

As you came down from your climax, he pulled away. One of his thumbs replaced his mouth, drawing slow circles over your clit. You jerked at the feeling; he placed a lazy kiss against your thigh, reddened by his hand holding you down.

“You okay, flower?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, in a dreamlike state as you let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. “You’re too good at that…”

He laughed, the sound like music to your ears.

“You always make me feel so good, Joshy,” you continued, humming gently as he moved to lay down beside you. “I love you so much…”

“I love you, flower.”

You turned on your side again, brushing your hand over his face. His lips had become raw and swollen, practically glowing red in the sunlight. You traced your finger over them, admiring their plump shape. God, he was too good.

Gently, you reached for the waistband of his sweats and pulled at them.

“Take these off.”

He obeyed instantly, kicking his sweats off along with his underwear. He flushed pink as you hooked a leg around him, and used your hand to grasp his length. A tiny moan filled the space between you. A smile graced your lips. You pressed your hand on one side of his cock as you brought it to your slick center, and began to grind against him. Your fluids slicked along the underside of him, the head of his cock nudging your sensitive clit. You breathed in unison, pleasure blooming through both of you even without his cock inside of you.

He hummed his satisfaction, pressing his face into your neck. “I could cum like this…” he admitted, his cock twitching against you.

“Do you want to?” You breathed, still rutting your hips against him. “Wanna cum all over me, Joshy? All over my hand and my pussy, hmmm?”

“Ahh–” his hips jerked against you. His length pulsed again, and you moaned into his ear. You loved making him melt, loved that you could have this effect on him without him even being inside of you.

“Tell me what you want, honey,” you cooed. You began to stroke him as you rolled your hips into him. You were getting close again, too, the feeling of his cockhead dragging against your center was delicious.

“Ah, Y/N, wanna cum just like this…”

You nodded, your free hand petting his hair as you continued your movements. You felt the muscles in his stomach clenching and releasing as you grinded against him. His breaths came shakily in your ear. His fingers found your waist, digging into the skin as he began to rut against you needily. Your combined voices were a chorus of moans through the quiet room as you both chased your release. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be taken by the sensation of having him close to you, the pleasure blooming through your body as the both of you held onto one another.

“Are you there, baby? I’m so close,” you sighed. This seemed to invigorate him.

“Yes, flower, I’m there. Just need you with me… Need you close to me…”

“I’m close to you Joshy, I’m here,” you breathed against him, finding his lips and pressing yours against him softly, slowly. Your mouths moved together tentatively, contrasting with the desperate rocking of your hips against one another. He swallowed your moans as you tensed against him. Your orgasm overtook you, each wave rolling over you more intense than the last one.

He groaned, then came your name in that beautiful voice as he found his own release. Sticky ropes of cum coated your hand and your center, mixing with your own release. You both continued rutting against each other, slowing your movements until finally you were both still.

“I love you so much,” Josh whispered. He kissed your head, stopping to breathe in the scent of your shampoo. A contented sigh left his lips as you shifted, him laying on his back and you letting your head rest on his chest. The steady thrum of his heart comforted you. The sound, coupled with the weed, and your physical exhaustion made you want a nap desperately.

“I love you, Josh,” you yawned. He brushed your hair out of your face, glancing down at your tired expression. A smile played on his lips, and he kissed your head again. “Can we take a nap?” you asked hopefully.

“You don’t wanna clean up first?” Josh inquired.

“No,” you mumbled, fighting back another yawn. “Just wanna sleep…”

“Okay, flower… Nap time it is.”

#josh x reader #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka imagine #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet #gvf smut #gvf imagine #gvf x reader #my writing

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minimujina · 2 years

Text

ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴏɴᴀᴛᴀ !

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs. venti, thoma, kazuha, xiao, albedo

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs. the boys x ballerina reader; kazuha’s a flirt; albedo’s a menace and a tease :)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs. she/her pronouns used. normally i write in 2nd person, but i didn’t even realize i wrote in 3rd person here, so i just went with it. im so sorry! also there’s lots of smooching :) none of it is sexual or meant to be interpreted that way, intimacy like that is just beautiful, or i use it as a sort of comedic medium (kazuha’s <3)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ. perhaps i’m biased as a dancer, but i’ve always wanted to write something like this :) hope you enjoy!

i worked very hard on this piece for a long time, so if you like it, reblogs are much appreciated <3

ᴠᴇɴᴛɪ’s breath caught when he saw the familiar silhouette of a girl at the foot of his statue. she had always left such a prominent impression on him that her form could never appear foreign to him, even in the cover of darkness. as usual, she was dancing without music, alone—but he knew that there was a content smile on her face. there always was.

the girl danced with such grace that the wind god was consumed by wonder; it ate his heart away bit by bit until he could feel and think of nothing but her. permanently imprinted in his mind was the image of the ballerina drifting elegantly along the ground as if it were ice, swaying in a nearly hypnotizing manner. she was so delicate, so gentle, so lovely—like a whisper in the wind, venti mused. her movements conveyed deep emotion without words, emotion that couldn’t be expressed by words. fabric fluttered around the girl as she twirled and leapt and leaned, arms following suit in a form not perfect, but uniquely beautiful.

every other night, the girl was there. every other night, venti came to watch. and every other night, he began to expect her. so when she started to arrive only every two nights, then every three, then four, the god’s smile fell when he watched her dance, because what he saw in her movements was no longer the same as it had been.

before, the girl’s dance seemed to be her expression of joy. she had looked so happy. now, her movements were slower. they were solemn. sorrowful. he saw it in the way her fingertips no longer reached for some invisible object like they used to, in the way her lips never once showed an inkling of a smile, in the way her elbows sagged in her arabesque. occasionally, she would simply stand with her head bowed, one leg crossed behind the other. it crushed venti's heart. even more dispiriting was when he could hear the girl humming a tune he did not know—and venti knew every tune. but now, all he identified in the girl’s humming was a song of broken desperation.

so the god stepped forward into the light, startling her slightly, but she saw that it was only the bard. the bard, who had unashamedly pursued her for quite some time now—chasing her around mondstadt with his lyre while he tried to convince her to go on tour with him; the bard, who reminded her of a child's laughter and the smell of a summer breeze; the bard, who had surprised her with new shoes to dance in when her own had become much too worn. the ballerina had witnessed the sides of this flirtatious and fun-loving musician that no one else had.

her lips melted into a sad smile, and she welcomed him with open arms.

before venti enveloped her in his embrace, he lifted his lyre into the air; it floated on its own and began to play a much lighter—but still mellow—tune. it was a clear invitation to waltz, the lyre swaying mischievously as if encouraging her to just go on and dance already. the girl’s surprise was evident, but when the hands of the bard found her hips, everything melted into the background except for him.

venti guided the ballerina, letting his own joy pour into the movements in hopes that the girl would find her own. his hands brushed around her waist as she pirouetted three, four, five times, her arms floating above her head. as she came to a stop, the two faced each other once more, and venti could finally see that beautiful smile of hers again; her cheeks flushed, hair messed, and eyes bright, venti thought that no one could be more lovely. and he told her so, too, as he brushed stray hairs from her face, his touch like lightning on her skin.

they danced to the lyre until their feet stung and muscles ached, but their faces were sore from smiles and laughter. they had waltzed until dawn, and now the townspeople's chatter began to rise like heat, sending the ballerina into a sudden panic. their night of solitude and fairy tale-esque atmosphere had ended rather promptly, and her heart was beginning to feel the effects.

"hey, hey! it's okay!" venti murmured, placing the girl's hands in between his own. "do you trust me?"

she tilted her head. "i...i think so? what kind of question is that? are you gonna do something weird?”

venti's grin turned from sweet to sly, hands snaking around her torso to hold her to his side. "oh, no," the girl laughed nervously. "no, no, no, venti--"

but then the two were up in the air, blurred scenery of the city of freedom and its surroundings rushing past. the ballerina clung to the bard for dear life, barely managing to bite back her screams of terror; yet as quickly as the journey had begun, it ended, and the they landed in a secluded clearing of trees and underbrush.

as the couple composed themselves, little birds and squirrels began to approach them meekly, and venti swore the girl’s eyes lit with a joy like fire in that moment. she chittered back at the small animals in what most would consider just a goofy voice—but to venti, it was goofy and incredibly endearing.

after resting their achy muscles for a good while, and perhaps sharing a kiss or two (or seven), their waltz started back up right where they had left off, animals of all kinds hidden away in the trees to watch the lovely scene unfold.

every second ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀ waited, the eagerness in his heart grew.

she visited komore teahouse every so often, needing a place to stay after a performance or during travels, and every time, without fail, thoma somehow managed to fall more in love with her.

even when she wasn’t dancing, she was the embodiment of grace—lovely, gentle, charming. thoma could barely restrain himself from following her around like a puppy at all hours of the day just to see her smile and laugh and, well, dance. he loved nothing more than watching her dance, for when she did so it was clear that she was the fullest version of herself. the most happy. the most confident. the most free.

but thoma had no idea that the ballerina happened to be quite in love with him, too. half of the times she came to the teahouse with the explanation that she’d just had a performance were lies—she came simply to spend time with the housekeeper of the kamisato clan, just because she liked him.

“i’m bored,” the girl murmured, resting her chin in her palm to stare at the man across from her. they’d just finished eating a meal thoma had prepared which was, as usual, perfect.

thoma felt a slight panic rise in his chest. did he do something wrong?

but a sudden smile lit up her features as she sat up straighter, wiping any negative thought clean from thoma’s mind.

“let’s dance,” she whispered, a certain fire in her expression that only appeared when such prospects came about.

“what?” did he hear her right? thoma couldn’t dance. thoma was a housekeeper.

“i said let’s dance, pretty boy!” she laughed, wrapping her hands around his upper arm and pulling him to stand. “it doesn’t have to be perfect—you just do what you feel like doing.”

leaving him with an eager grin, she rushed to the music player in the corner of the room, picking a song so unlike anything he’d ever heard the ballerina dance to. it was upbeat, playful, and completely foreign to him, though he wasn’t against it at all. in fact, he felt his chest flutter in excitement as the girl shuffled back to him, beginning to move to the music.

what she did was completely different than her normal style of dance. while the ballet was beautiful and graceful, and she did indeed look happy when pirouetting and leaping, what thoma saw before him was a new side to the girl that he might’ve liked even more.

silly. joyful. bouncy. fun. the girl twirled herself around before grabbing his hands, saying, “come on!” in a sing-song voice. the girl lead him in a kind of duet where their hands were clasped as they danced; a lot of leg-kicking was involved, as well as switching positions with a twirl, or four. the music sounded vaguely familiar to thoma, which was odd, since he was sure he’d never heard it in his life.

“what is this?” thoma laughed, struggling to get a hang of the footwork, but enjoying the feeling of the girl’s soft hands in his own.

she beamed up at him, unable to hide the excited blush on her cheeks. “it’s called the charleston!” she exclaimed, twisting her hips with a laugh. “it’s not from here.” she would’ve liked to tell him where it came from, but that was an unfortunate secret she wasn’t allowed to disclose.

“i’m terrible at this, but i love it,” thoma yelled over the music as he tried to copy the girl’s movements. they danced until the end of the song, chatting and laughing until their lungs hurt from breathlessness; and as the last beat of the song died out, thoma and the girl collapsed in a heap of giggles, bodies cradling each other, their hands still tangled.

the atmosphere gradually became more calm as the two rested. thoma couldn’t help but say what had been burning at the back of his mind for so long now.

“sometimes…i wish you came around more,” he mumbled. “no, always. i always miss you when you leave, you know that?”

thoma ran his thumb over the back of her hand wistfully, waiting for a response. the only thing he got, however, was a brief kiss smack dab on the lips and a smile that could shame the stars. but these affirmed him better than any words could.

he was shocked—not that he didn’t like it. he’d wanted to do that for a while now. so, after seeing her happy little grin as she leaned over him, he took the liberty to lean back in, stealing as many kisses as he wanted. between each kiss, he mumbled ridiculously sappy and sweet things such as, “my pretty ballerina…” “my tiny dancer…” “my little cookie crumb…” (she barked out a laugh at the last one).

the girl reluctantly received every single kiss and comment, barely holding back her laughter at his too-sweet attitude. thoma knew what he was doing, and he only continued amusedly. “my beautiful, beautiful sugar plum fairy…” another kiss, more laughter, and thoma’s hands gliding along her hips to pull her closer.

“thoma, you’re killing me here,” she cried, crumbling into a fit of giggles as he attacked her face with more smooches. cheek, forehead, nose, lips, temple—nowhere was safe.

the ballerina ended up coming to komore teahouse even more often than before, and it wasn’t uncommon to find her at kamisato estate either, “bothering” thoma while he was supposed to be working.

ᴋᴀᴢᴜʜᴀ met her on the crux. she often had to travel between inazuma and liyue for shows, and beidou was more than happy to have her as a stowaway—especially when she found out just how much kazuha liked her.

well, it was apparent that the feeling was mutual, because not once, not twice, but three times did beidou catch kazuha and the ballerina making out in some discreet corner of the ship. young love, she mused. it made sense, didn’t it? a poet and a dancer? regardless, she snapped at them each time (affectionately), threatening to separate them if they couldn’t stop snogging each others’ faces off on her goddamn pirate ship. she was met only by childish giggles and kazuha’s dramatized smooching sounds in response.

but hey, how could they help it? they only saw each other every so often. they completed each other, they said, and perhaps this was true—the ballerina would listen with heart-shaped pupils as kazuha recited his sappy, lovely poetry; she flitted to and fro when he played his music, pirouetting to her heart’s content. they had an intimacy so innocent and incomparably tender that beidou often pretended to be seasick. “you’re gonna give me a cavity, assholes,” she would mutter as she passed by the couple, who had practically no space in between them as they “snogged each other’s faces off.”

kazuha was no ballerino, but he could certainly dance a duet. mostly, he loved to hold her hand or support her weight while she twirled and leapt—although he was quite guilty of interrupting her practice with distracting things like hugging her waist or tenderly kissing the back of her neck. each time kazuha committed such an act, he was met with a playful smile, but was ceremoniously and smugly corrected to place his hands on her hips, not his arms. then such distractions could be avoided. he would hum and agree, but just keep doing the same thing, kissing her neck with a grin as she struggled to pry off his leech-like grasp.

eventually, she would have to give in, but kazuha’s hold wouldn’t loosen—his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her ever closer as if this is the last time they’d see each other.

it struck her then that that was actually true—though not for a while, at least. she was going to leave the crux when they arrived to inazuma, and he was going to stay on board; it was likely they wouldn’t see each other for several months. the thought made her skin prickle uncomfortably, so instead she focused on her poet’s hands gliding around her hips.

“zuha,” she whispered. “when will i see you again after this?”

his expression became grim and his movements faltered, but he turned her around and tenderly kissed her forehead in response as if to comfort her worries. they both knew the answer to her question—not soon enough.

“why do you have to leave again? can’t you come off the boat with me? just for a little while?” she was close to tears at this point, tired of losing her love to distance. kazuha pulled her into a gentle hug. once again, they both knew the answer to her question.

kazuha was a wanted criminal in inazuma. if he got off the boat, the ballerina would lose him for good.

so they made the most of their time together, dancing and singing and laughing and kissing until beidou couldn’t stand it anymore (“you kids are gonna eat each other’s faces off, i swear,” she grumbled). however, the captain had no choice but to let it pass when she saw the crew members of the crux smiling and laughing, too, even joining in on the dancing and singing. when tasks were light, kazuha and the ballerina often led spontaneous group dances where most of the crew either joined of their own volition or followed reluctantly by means of force.

when the time came for goodbyes, the ballerina was very tearful, like always. kazuha had composed himself, but he felt deep turmoil at having to leave her again. but soon, he thought. soon they’d be together again. i just have to be patient, he told himself, wiping away his darling’s tears and kissing her forehead with a gentleness that was so characteristic of him.

patient.

how could he be patient?

kazuha knew that he could never be patient again. not after how long he’d spent with her, how deeply he had cherished her presence, how much he had kissed her and loved her and sang for her and danced with her. kazuha was not going to wait. kazuha was not going to leave her again. he didn’t care what it took—if he got arrested, if he died.

but the ballerina knew. kazuha had this look in his eye that said everything he was thinking—such teary desperation, overwhelming sadness, and anger.

she wouldn’t let him come after her. the risk was too great.

this spelled the beginning of a heated debate, one which beidou had to disarm very carefully as if tip-toeing through a minefield. once she was finally able to knock some sense into romeo and juliet, she stated very directly, “kazuha can stay with the resistance on watatsumi. problem solved? yes? okay, great. now kiss, you two—i’m getting bored.”

xɪᴀᴏ would never associate himself with mortals. he wanted absolutely nothing to do with them, not only because he didn’t want to harm them with his karma, but also because most of them were just annoying.

however, there seemed to be a mortal girl he considered to be noticeably less annoying than the rest, given that he allowed her to bring him almond tofu and sit next to him on the roof of wangshu inn. he tolerated her, was all he said when questioned suggestively by the owner of the inn.

the girl in question came to wangshu inn often to perform, as she was a travelling dancer and moved all around teyvat, but her favorite place to reside for long periods of time had always been liyue. this may or may not have been due to the presence of a certain adeptus. was she herself aware of this? not consciously, no. all she knew was that she always felt safe in liyue, as if protected by someone or something, and something about the place was simply attractive to her. she couldn't help but be drawn to the picturesque landscapes of jueyun karst, the warm and charming qingce village, and liyue harbor's lively atmosphere. it felt like home away from home.

xiao just happened to be surveilling the area around wangshu inn when the cliché occurred—the ballerina was meandering down the road to the inn for the first time, drinking in the sights with her small bag clutched before her, when a group of treasure hoarders approached. xiao had disarmed a great many similar situations, so it was no surprise to him when the thieves surrounded the girl threateningly, making her feel small and helpless with their jeering and suggestive whistling. xiao’s heart lurched in disgust.

“get lost,” the adeptus growled before anything more could occur, brandishing his spear as he sauntered toward the band of ruffians. the clear leader puffed up his chest in challenge, but the rest merely shuffled uncomfortably and glanced at each other, seemingly at a loss for whether to flee or fight.

“are you stupid?” the yaksha tilted his head in question; but before anyone could act, the surrounded girl suddenly whirled her travel bag, sweeping the lead thief right off his feet. he landed on his bum with a thunk. the other thieves bristled angrily, beginning to move towards her, but they had all been knocked out by xiao before a single hand could be laid upon her. the leader of the group, as the only one conscious, whimpered pathetic apologies while he scrambled to his feet and scurried away like a rodent.

this was how xiao and the ballerina first met.

her eyes were filled with wonder and appreciation as she profusely thanked the adeptus, but he dismissed her with discomfort, departing in that abrupt way of his—teleportation. she remained in the same place for a long time after his leave, heart beating in her ears, limbs tingly with anticipation. though xiao had disappeared from her sight, he had not traveled far. he watched the girl as she stood, eyes transfixed on her stunned figure until she finally began down the road. if anyone asks, he definitely did not follow her all the way to the inn to make sure she stayed safe. and he definitely did not give the stink eye to anyone who even glanced at her.

to xiao’s faux dismay, the girl became enamored with him. she considered herself in debt to him for saving her life no matter how much he insisted that he didn’t care. she knew that xiao at least didn’t hate her, just by the fact that he still talked to her. and she was right. he acted annoyed and distant, but he truly cherished the moments where she sought him out at the inn and sat next to him at the edge of the balcony, leaning on the rails and swinging her legs restlessly. that was one thing he thought was amusing about her—she was never still, never had been still in all the time that he’d known her. xiao supposed this simply came with her love of dancing and moving.

one of the ballerina’s proudest moments was when she managed to make xiao smile. they were alone on the balcony of the inn as usual, xiao staring into the horizon while the girl danced gracefully behind him to a silent tune. it would occasionally manifest in a hum, the volume jumping in intervals at extreme movement, but xiao was lulled by her voice nevertheless. he refused to face her in fear that she would see past his tough facade, because if he saw her smile, he was sure he would fall apart.

that is, until she slipped and fell. xiao’s head whirled to the sound of the crash, eyes darkening at her crumpled form. “i told you it’s not safe when you’re wearing socks,” he grumbled, helping her up by the hands. once standing, her grip on him tightened, refusing to let go even when he pulled. he glanced up to see the girl grinning mischievously.

“let go,” threatened the yaksha, but the girl was unrelenting. “i will get you to dance with me, xiao,” she smiled, beginning to move and pull him along.

he shook his head profusely, voice rising in pitch as he growled, “no, no you will not. i will not dance with you, mortal.”

“oh, xiao, you know my name by now.”

“i won’t dance with you.”

“but you already are!”

and with that, the ballerina released him with a reserved smile and continued her solo, but now xiao couldn’t look away. he was trapped, watching her dainty form as if in a trance. he was grinning before he knew it, even if it was just a slight upturn of the lips.

the ballerina had seen it, but this was for her only to know. she took hold of him once more, not daring to mention his smile—but now he was more willing to comply, intertwining his fingers with hers, placing one hand on her waist, and responding to her movements gently. she had done it—tamed the beast, danced with him, made him smile. her heart swelled with accomplishment, as well as admiration for the adeptus before her.

they seemed as if paintbrushes dusting across a canvas in the way that they moved, waltzing on the balcony with the kind of silent delight one finds in solitude. they were alone together, not a distraction in sight, allowing xiao to focus on one thing for the first time in his elongated, exhausting existence—the way she smiled. his life had always been dark. it consumed him day by day, the pain inflating like a balloon in his chest, fuzz clouding his vision until there was nothing left but a numb sort of grief. but the way she smiled? it washed away the fuzz. it popped the swelling balloon in his chest. he could see again; he could breathe again. he felt his face muscles lift to mirror the ballerina’s innocent grin as they twirled across the balcony in a dazed stupor, and xiao thought that he’d never experienced something so simply profound.

all in all, he was quite soft deep down.

as a master of alchemy, ᴀʟʙᴇᴅᴏ wasn’t really one to pursue frivolous affairs of the heart, those frivolous affairs being crushes or anything to do particularly with love. but aside from being a scientist, he was also a painter—he could appreciate art when he saw it and was not incapable of finding the aesthetic beauty in things. his deepest desire would always be to watch the universe expand, break it all apart so that he could understand it, then build it back together again; but albedo’s love of art swelled to meet this desire when he encountered a ballerina, and all his preconceptions of love were thrown out the window.

her downright indifference to him was what spurred albedo on in his pursuit. he masked his intentions with the claim that he wanted to study the ballerina and her dancing, both for science and his paintings. he hadn’t fooled her, this was obvious, but she was so unbothered by his false motives that she played along anyways. she wasn’t quite sure what he really wanted, but whatever it was, she was certain that she wouldn’t mind it, given he was just a harmless scientist—as she saw him, anyways.

those who had pegged albedo as the type of intellectual to be inept at love couldn’t have been more wrong—he was wildly flirtatious when he had his wits and confidence about him. just because he normally didn’t take advantage of his attractiveness and focused on his work didn’t mean he couldn’t court somebody properly, by all means!

the ballerina was truly charmed by his efforts, but she kept that to herself, along with all of the letters and paintings and sketches he had sent to her from dragonspine when he was unable to see her, or she him. it was her guilty pleasure to read them over again and again, tummy fluttering unwillingly.

the girl had no clue just how infatuated albedo was with her. something about the artfulness of ballet and the beauty of human movement had inspired and entranced him, and since she was the embodiment of such things, naturally he was drawn to her. the more and more albedo saw her, the more and more his appreciation for her dance grew; and then it became a sort of cycle, where his appreciation for her dance trickled down into love for her as a person. he found himself unable to focus on his experiments and research, instead wishing he could watch her dance all day—or perhaps, he could dance with her. that was something he’d have liked to try, though he was certain his lack of experience would be his downfall in that activity.

despite her soft-spoken nature, sucrose—albedo’s assistant—couldn’t help herself from telling the ballerina many of the things her teacher had accidentally imparted to her, the subject usually being the ballerina herself. sucrose wasn’t a gossip at all, no! she was simply trying to help the girl realize just how much albedo thought of her. as much as the man was charming, at the moment he seemed to be tarrying, as if his courage and energy were waning. all sucrose wanted was for the both of her dear friends to be well and happy (and in love).

this opened the ballerina’s eyes, promoting her to understand albedo’s actions a bit more. when he made advances, she didn’t resist so blatantly, instead finding herself to even be a little bashful.

the girl’s favorite pastime was speaking to albedo in french, her hometown being fontaine. it amused her that this was the one advantage she would have over him, probably ever. that is…until he inevitably decided to learn it for himself. he would probably master it within weeks with that brain of his.

“ta cervelle est assez drôle (your mind is rather funny),” the ballerina mused, observing albedo during his work time. the man replied without so much as batting an eyelash to her, “i told you to stop doing that until i’ve learned it myself.”

“arrêtez quoi ?” (stop what?) her voice was lilting and musical, as if trying to push him to his limits.

“there you go again, being coy,” the scientist murmured, still focused on his work. “perhaps you’ve stopped playing hard to get, no? do you actually like me now?”

she hesitated. but since she believed he couldn’t understand her, she ended up pouring her heart out.

“c’est pas que je t’aimais pas,” she mumbled. “j’appréciais toujours ton compagnie, sincèrement. en fait, je pense…je pense que je t’ai toujours aimé.” (it’s not that i didn’t like you. i always enjoyed your company, sincerely. in fact, i think…i think i’ve always loved you.)

albedo paused in his work. he spun around to face the girl, an unreadable expression on his face.

“i’ve always loved you too,” he said, a whisper of a smile gracing his lips.

so this asshole really did know how to speak french.

“il y a beaucoup de choses que tu connais pas sur moi, ma ballerine.” (there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, my ballerina.)

“tais-toi.” (shut up.)

“ouch, how rude. i thought you loved me,” albedo teased. at this point, both were standing, and he was inching closer to her by the second, each footstep slow and meticulous. the girl’s heart thumped in her ears like a drum; she was still in shock from the fact that she had just accidentally poured her heart out to him. he knew now. he knew.

but all he asked of her was one dance. one dance, and he wouldn’t tease her about it anymore.

her agreement led to the two waltzing around albedo’s workshop, the passage of time forgotten amidst glowing smiles and the touch of each other’s hands. of course, he had no trouble picking up the steps or getting the hang of the movement’s flow. she wondered how he could be so well-versed in quite literally everything—he was truly a gift.

many “tais-toi”’s were uttered that day, albedo’s teasing being unrelenting despite his promise. he claimed that they hadn’t danced enough yet for his standard, so he still had teasing rights. of course, it turned out that this scale of “enough dancing” was decided wholly by albedo, so he could claim that no amount of dancing was enough and potentially tease her for the rest of time if he so wished. and oh, did he wish.

𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ❤︎

also, i am obviously not a native french speaker, so if there are any mistakes or strangely worded parts in the dialogue of albedo’s, please let me know!! im just a student and it’s only my first year learning :)

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artblock-tm · 3 months

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🫂 :)

congrats on your alt being allowed out of the abyss btw

Thank you!!

Since you didn’t specify a fandom, I wanted to try my hand with some Hollow Knight content. I have two fics planned for it, after all.

Sorry if it’s ooc, I haven’t really analyzed these characters in a while lol!

Word count: 534

Characters: The Hollow Knight, Hornet, Pale King (mentioned)

Warning: Some minor blood, mentions of injuries

There was blood spattered on the steps outside the Black Egg Temple. New blood, a new mark left in ancient stones of the modified architecture.

It was the Knight’s blood. Hopefully it was the last thing that would leave behind in their former prison. They sat on the steps, listlessly dragging their finger through the blood with their remaining arm.

On their other side, their sister, Hornet, finished tying the tourniquet on the Knight’s shoulder. “Finished,” she said, stepping back and cutting away the silk that trailed from her fingertips. “That should keep it from getting…”

Infected, she would’ve said, but that word had a new meaning now.

Or, perhaps, that new meaning had died with the Light. Hornet turned, looking over the now-dark surroundings. Vines that had pulsated and throbbed with sickly orange fever had shriveled and blackened in the matter of a few minutes, and now littered the surrounding area. She still had no idea what happened. Little Ghost had not yet arrived, but the Hollow Knight had broken free of their chains as the infection had disappeared.

Despite the fortune of the situation, Hornet could not help but feel something was terribly wrong.

She sat beside her Sibling, folding her legs underneath her cloak. The two sat in silence- not that conversation was common with the Knight, anyway. Normally, that was okay, but silence was so heavy in this dead kingdom. If the Light was dead, it would be safe to form words and thoughts now, right…?

“How did it happen?” Hornet risked a look up at her Sibling, friend, fellow warrior. “The Light has disappeared. Did the Goddess die?”

The Hollow Knight shook its head. That could mean many things, Hornet decided. I don’t know, or I don’t want to speak, or I’m still in shock.

Hornet responded with a nod. Maybe we’re not ready for voices yet. That was okay. There were other ways to communicate. She shifted closer to the Knight, inching closer until their sides brushed. When the Knight didn’t recoil, she leaned more against them. She waited a few beats, letting the contact grow familiar, then wrapped one arm around its side, gently, to not agitate any wounds.

The silence grew a little lighter.

The Hollow Knight lifted its one hand, flicking the droplets of blood away and wiping their fingers on their ragged cloak. Their hand went to their lap, and they tilted their head, appraising Hornet with deep, black eyes.

Hornet returned the look. She remembered the inky depths of those eyes, devoid of light. She remembered those eyes used to be darker. She also remembered that their father’s eyes were the exact same way; though he exuded light, his eyes were sunken and echoing.

But when she looked into her Sibling’s eyes, she didn’t see her father. She saw the eyes that matched her own.

The Knight, silent and stoic for decades, let a sigh escape them. They lowered their head and touched it to Hornet’s forehead.

Vulnerability from the older warrior was something that Hornet had never experienced. So that must mean that Light was gone, and the kingdom was finally safe. She closed her eyes and hugged them a little tighter.

#artbabble-tm #writeblock-tm #hollow knight #hk #hk au #hk hornet #drabble #goblinbugthing #ask game #this is for one of those fics planned btw #But this was the only scene I could do this with without spoiling some concepts from it…. Teehee

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slothcapsule · 2 years

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Kaeya's design

as a kaeya enthusiast and lover, i spend an ungodly (haha) amount of time looking at him so here are some things about his design that others and i have noticed! its gonna be a long post so sorry about that

starting off by saying that kaeya's design mostly consists of "two sides" in a way, his mondstat side and his khaenri'ah side.

his mondstat side includes his vision, the full side of his cape in the back, the earring he wears. the khaenri'ah side includes his eyepatch, the wisp of lighter hair in his bang, a clipped cape ("wing") and the majority of the fur coating. all across his design there a bunch of those stars we see associated with khaenri'ah, one being in his pupil which was a confirmed trait to khaenri'ahn people ever since we saw dainsleif.

(i need it to be noted to kaeya's eyepatch is stressed on a lot in game, its constantly referred back to most of the time when kaeya is brought up, he has a voiceline about it, traveler has a voiceline about it, its mentioned right when we start the quest with dainsleif, and its related back to fischl so. do with that what you will, he's also the only one from the eyepatched characters that wears it on the right side other than signora but fatui and khaenri'ah is an entirely different topic, but we do know khaenriah loves the entire one eye thing)

kaeya shares a lot of overall similarities with cryo abyss mages, mostly in playstyle but appearance as well, most notably the fur coat he keeps thrown over his shoulder, the "bunny ears" in his hair (ahoge?) and his boots. (in playstyle he's similar in the sense that he teleports on his fifth attack, his ult is similar to the icicles they produce after their shield is broken, he produces his own shield at c4 etc etc)

i saw someone point this out on reddit but i cant find because it was a while ago but regardless, they brought up his boob window in his design and how it can be perfectly covered up by the symbol abyss heralds and khaenri'ahn soldiers have on their chests.

which is sort of interesting because we know abyss creatures we fight are cursed khaenriahn people, but also, kaeya is seemingly unaffected by the curse. for those who dont know when khaenri'ah was destroyed in the cataclysm its citizens were cursed to immortality and went through various transformations, yet kaeya seems unaffected because he continued to age "normally" (as normal as someone born supposedly 500 years ago can age)

in the chasm quest dainsleif mentions the existing of a device that apparently keeps him from transforming into something else, (i can find a screenshot of the voice line if someone asks) but doesn't help with the immortality issue. there's a lot we don't know regarding that entire situation but i hope to get crumbs in 2.8 since we're getting mona + diluc content

speaking of dainsleif, today there was a certain story teaser that was dropped and id be a fool not to mention the clear connection between pierro, the first fatui harbinger known as the jester and our beloved kaeya. this is him for reference

pierro shares a few attributes with kaeya that are most certainly worth mentioning. the way that the lightning portrays pierro here sort of covers the right side of his fur cape and only leaves one fully showing, similar to kaeya's one-shoulder fur cape. upon a closer look there is a star pupil in his eyes which as we know is a khaenri'ahn thing, the reason i mentioned dainsleif was because his mask vaguely resembles his. one of his eyes is covered like kaeya's, he has an opening in his shirt on his chest in a heart shape that's come to a close at the top by some type of crystal similar to the ones kaeya has littered all over his outfit.

they both share a blue crystal earring and eye shape, pierro has the long star littered over his design as well, and there is a tuft of blue/dark hair in pierro's just like kaeya has a strand of silver. they also share a similar jacket design, which is more of a fatui thing in general but still should be mentioned.

and regarding the silver hair in kaeya, i find it worthy to note that in his splash art and in the manga, he's missing the strand of hair over his left ear. it might be just because they simply forgot to add it because it is rather small, or the silver in his hair is expanding to other places.

(drawing attention to one of his voice lines,, when we asked about his eyepatch kaeya says he inherited it from his grandfather, similarly to how kids inherit hairstyles from parents.. do with that what you will)

one thing i want to note though is his cape, the full one. if you look at it you might think it looks vaguely familiar, wanna know why?

(a lot of people theorize the log in screen is celestia, and that the nails in dragonspine and now the chasm are fallen pillars from there) for someone from a godless nation its sort of weird that he seems to have that connection to something seemingly celestial huh? and you might think but his cape only has three of those wings, the nails and statues have 6!!! well wrong! kaeyas cape is double sided so he does, in fact, have 6.

(someone in reblogs reminded me its also on the statues of the seven after you upgrade which is right and where i actually first noticed it LMAO but you get the gist, celestial design)

i think its also worth to note that paimon shares that in her design, as well as the star. im going to leave the theories about this for later

this is all i can come up with at the moment, im sure there's more than im missing but this is solely for his physical design, theories will come later because im always thinking about him (im personally a supporter of the prince kaeya theory even though i think like abyss herald or mage is more realistic LMAO but a person can dream)

EDIT: I FORGOT HIS VISION IM SO SORRY

this is the back of kaeya's vision, the only notable things are the lack of a third wing probably signifying he's sort of out of place, and the swirl? wave? whatever you wanna call it is on the wrong side. every other character with a double sided vision has the swirl on the other side like jean, diluc, mona, eula, lisa (etc..? i havent seen anyone else with a double sided vision which is also interesting, at least from mond)

here's diluc's vision for comparison (also backside)

#i wanted to add the unknown god about the star #but that just opens up a black hole of things so im leaving it #for now #anyway kaeya sexy man brr #i like his design a lot #kaeya #kaeya alberich #prince kaeya #kaeya theories #ish #genshin impact #kaeya lore #khaenri'ah #dainsleif #mona magistus #diluc #mondstat #paimon #kaeya's eyepatch #i can make an entire seperate post about kaeya's eyepatch from how much its mentioned #ill probably make another post later including his everything else #namecard and constellation specifically #kaeya's vision #pierro #fatui harbringers #celestia #i think its likely that pierro is kaeyas dad #solid theory that was already brought up before but now with pierro's official design its sorta yk #has a looot more basis and it makes sense #why diluc was so riled up about kaeya being a khaenriahn spy when in reality he told him hes part of the organization that killed his dad L

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tiredsn0w · 7 months

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Hello! (So sorry if this was asked several times, the page kept glitching and I wasn’t sure if it was sent)

I was curious about what mental/physical conditions the characters have, if any. (Of course, for some it’s somewhat obvious, but for others it’s a little less clear, so I just wanted to check)

Hope you have a lovely day/night! :)

It only sent the ask once, don't worry!

I'm assuming by the characters, you mean SCP-6118 and other keplers. And I would be more than happy to answer :)

Content warning for mentions of addiction, self-harm, and suicide.

In order of chronological appearance as per the Altitudes Hub:

Unit 5a82 / SCP-6118 Mentally, I'd say SPD (Schizoid Personality Disorder) and PTSD for absolute certain. (I plan to write more about them as well, though the latter has been touched on a lot already.)

He dealt with a self-harm addiction for an extensive period of time, on and off for some years to not get in the way of intensive physical training (as much as possible). He struggles with suicidal thoughts throughout the story, though never really acts on it, more like throwing himself into severe harm's way on purpose.

I've also seen people interpret him as having ADHD &/or ASD, though I've found this is highly dependent on the person reading him. I'm sure some of my own has unintentionally bled out onto the page so to speak.

Physically, he's albino and would probably qualify for a diagnosis of dwarfism. He has chronic pain and fatigue, mostly global and musculoskeletal related. In an upcoming Tale I plan to touch on more severe neurological issues like acephalgic (aura-only) migraines (why he gets nauseous when he's stressed) and perhaps cardiac issues.

Some kind of hormonal/gonadal difference or DSD like undervirilization could also easily be assumed.

The Handler It has BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and a comorbid substance abuse disorder, as a way of self-medicating for the horrible and debilitating symptoms it has.

It also has ectodermal atrichia congenita, meaning it has absolutely no hair on its body, and never did. Otherwise it's physically unremarkable besides for having lighter skin and eyes (not to the point of albinism), and being slightly smaller than normal for a Two.

Unit 4b80 It struggles with survivor's guilt after everything it went through, and other guilt, just guilt all around.

Possibly some OCD behaviours as well, related or otherwise, but nothing concrete has been written so far about it.

Unit 7cb7 It has chronic pain-- mostly nerve pain-- in its lower limbs after losing them in the explosion, because while regen tanks can do an enormous amount, when regenerating that much tissue, it can be tricky to get all the nerves in the right place.

Also chronic fatigue, because bodies hold on to traumatic events (whether physically traumatic to the body or mentally/emotionally) and getting blown up is a really physically traumatic thing.

I've been pondering 7cb7 having below-knee prosthetics, but it hasn't become relevant in my writing yet.

Units 3f32 & 3f33 They are identical twins due to a mishap in the gestational process where the cloned cells doubled and divided into two organisms. Other than being slightly tall and more towards the hyperpigmented side, they're in surprisingly sound mental and physical health for Twos who joined the rebellion a while back.

That should be most of it. Feel free to send me additional asks with any follow-up questions (or comment/reblog this post). I know it was quite a wall of text, but I wanted to touch on all of the things.

I hope whatever time of day it is for you, it's going well! Thank you so much for the ask!

#ask response #kepler aliens #scp 6118 #scp writing #informative #disabled characters #I saw the parched savanna of disability representation in the SCP community and watered it with my tears #Or something #I'm loopy

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mbslost · 2 months

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I am glad that you continue your activities on the Internet. I respect you for your courage. It's terrible that people think it's acceptable to wish someone dead for words on the Internet that don't harm anyone. people who do this behave like children. Please take care of yourself

On my own, I would also like to note that it is strange for me to see Gato's accusations of racism due to the fact that she gave feedback to artists who depicted characters with lighter skin color than they should be. I'm white, so I can't say if the representatives of the POC consider this to be racism, but personally it looks strange and enough from my side… Exaggerated. this is not something that should cause people to be negative, it's just a feedback. it just looks like another "argument" and an attempt to justify hatred towards a person. Yes, it can be frustrating, but that doesn't make Gato a racist, as it seems to me. it is strange that the claims in this case are made to Gato, but not to the artists. you can correct me, because, again, I may be wrong. it seems to me that the situation could be different if people just talked to each other with words through their mouths, and did not accumulate resentment and did not dump it all on public display. this is sad, considering that the situation itself is an absurdity, brought to disgusting proportions by misunderstanding between people. I am horrified by the culture of cancellation over nothing. to be honest, because of this, I'm afraid to post something online, because I can't predict what kind of harmless actions I think I might be dubbed a racist, Nazi or something like that and cancel, although I despise harming anyone and try to express myself as much as possible correct as far as possible. I am glad that apologies have been made and accepted, but all the lost content cannot be restored. I hope that at least Gato is OK, this is the most important thing

sorry if some of the words sound strange or meaningless, I don't know English well and use a translator

dont apologise for broken english, i aint putting to much effort in it either😭

as for what you said yeah i totally agree since.. like in the last hours i just couldnt stop about this yk. why only gato is being so hated but not the people around her that did the messed up shit. (one of them even apologizing so yea). or people going around and saying that her diversity its almost nonexistent (thing i tried to prove wrong with my post about the poc characters in her work)

just like another user said, she could've chosen to not give them and ethnicity because people would acuse her of portraying that group as bad or whatever.

but oh well.. gotta hope everything will end on a positive note "3

also please, remember that there will always be people that will disagree with your opinion/points of view. if they start getting aggressive, block them and take a moment to relax. people could be such gross living being so yeah.. remember to take care of yourself :3

stay safe and drink plenty of water🫶

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jessy-the-martian-girl · 9 months

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Okay, I´ve finally finished it. And I've started on June, 2nd. This story was intended to be something short and fluffy, but it turned out bigger and with some sad themes (loss of a close relative in particular, and attempts at coping with it).

~5.7k words. Luis x OC.

Sorry for any mistakes and typos. Some things might seem weird - as I'm not completely sure if real people do talk like that.

Idea: Beach day with Luis.

Summary: Sea and cats are the best cure for the soul.

By the Sea at the Edge of Forever

“The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the Living Infinite. ”

― Jules Verne, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

- So, this is your hometown, eh? - Luis could not resist asking this question in the late evening, when the priority tasks were finished.

Other relatives and friends of Jessy's brother were notified of time and date of the funeral. The newfound cats were fed, the minimum cleaning in the apartment was done too. Even soothing tea was brewed and handed to a young dark-haired woman, who looked pretty upset by this sad event.

- Almost, - the girl who settled in Serra's arms smiled mirthlessly and, after taking a sip of tea, continued even without more questions. - My parents moved here when I was a little less than a year old. For the climate, they said. Sea air, and all that, you know...

- Speaking of sea air... Maybe we can go to any beach? - the Spaniard felt that he was treading on uneasy territory, but he also felt the urge to cheer up his girlfriend. - I once heard that cure for everything is salt water: tears, sweat and the sea...

Silence fell over the room. For a while, Jessica just sat there, clutching a mug of tea with both hands, as if trying to warm up her fingers. But when Serra was starting to worry that he might've crossed a line with this proposal, beyond which she would simply stop talking to him (just after asking him to leave), the girl emerged from her trance and finally answered.

- You know, I dig this idea of yours, - she turned a little in the ring of hands to see the face of her Spaniard. - I've had enough tears for now. There is one small beach here, quite secluded. I like it. But it's not easy to get to it, and your back...

- It's fine, mi luz, - Luis smiled at her reassuringly. - I'm in pretty good shape already, such a walk won't hurt me.

- Well, okay then, - still, Jessy decided to play it safe. - However, we can always change the route and stop at any other place on the coast. It's not the high season, so it's not like there will be no free space on the beach.

- ¡Bien! - the Spaniard beamed and hugged his girlfriend a little closer, mindful about the mug of hot tea in her hands. - Then we'll leave tomorrow morning.

The next morning came quickly. And while Luis was cooking breakfast, despite the cats' attempts to sabotage all the preparations (or, at least, to get these new people to take their feline friends with them wherever they were going), Jessy went on with packing stuff they would need. Surprisingly, this apartment still had some of her belongings, although she has not been living here for almost a year: working, traveling, getting stuck in that mess in Spain and staying by Serra's side at the hospital and even after that...

Two small backpacks readily accepted beach towels and a compact beach mat, sunscreen lotion, water and a light snack (sandwiches with butter and cheese, dates and a few oranges)... Besides, she managed to rearrange the contents of the backpacks so that Luis got a lighter one. The same stab wound on his back that almost ended his life was healed, of course, but doctor's orders were to avoid any serious strain until the end of the rehabilitation period. And there were at least a few more weeks before it, so the girl did not want to worsen the condition of the person so dear to her. Also she was used to go hiking with a backpack three times heavier and it was not a big deal for her.

Among her clothes left in this apartment brunette unexpectedly found men's swim shorts, which she once bought for herself as a part of beach outfit. But they remained brand new as Jessy never dared to wear this piece in public because of unusual design with pictures of turtles in various poses from the Kama Sutra. Luis, on the other hand, didn't have any problems with that, he just grinned at the offering and tried the shorts on to make sure it suited his size.

After having breakfast and, at Jessy's insistence, applying sunscreen on their faces and hands, the couple set off. At first they went by public transport almost to the outskirts of this small coastal town, and then by foot, along forest trails. They tried to keep slightly away from the wider road: though its condition was terrifying, there still were some reckless souls who seemingly enjoyed bumpy and dusty car rides.

On their way Serra chatted almost incessantly about all and everything at once. He even told a story how he learned to read animal tracks as a child. Then he asked something about the surrounding area, and, after listening to the answer, gave out a new bunch of questions. But as they came to the seashore, he stopped mid-sentence and stared in fascination at the expanse of water spreading before his eyes. Jessica sighed happily by his side - she had always harbored deep love for the sea, and now she was glad to share this love with someone significant.

- Well, hello, here we are, - the girl said softly, wiping away the welled up tears and not being afraid to seem ridiculous because of this and because of her words addressed to the majestic water element.

For some reason, she was absolutely sure that Luis *would understand* that. And he did, silently squeezing her cold fingers in his warm hands.

- Perhaps, we will have to walk in the water somewhere, and, please, be careful with stones, even large ones, - brunette gave out the warning on the rights of someone who had scouted all the surroundings in her childhood. - I was about six years old, and that stone seemed very reliable... As a result, twisted leg, slightly cut arms... And my dad and my brother took turns carrying me back to town.

At the mention of her relatives, Jessy´s voice quivered, but she managed to regain control of her emotions.

- Point taken, - the Spaniard nodded seriously, adjusted the straps of his backpack and, wincing from the short jolt of pain in his left arm, added with his usual charming smile. - Vamos, I can't wait to see that beach you were talking about with such a dreamy expression on your face.

And they headed to the border of the first beach, where the sand was almost hidden beneath rather large stones. Jessy was leading the way, maneuvering between those stones with ease, but never forgetting to cast a side glance at her companion to make sure that he was all right and that she wasn't too fast for him. Well, another reason for those glances was to take some sweet time to admire Serra's grace.

It turned out soon, that their's timing for such trip was not very great. The high tide period quickly had them taking off their shoes and rolling up their pant legs. However, the first water obstacle also had an unexpected effect: Jessica barely took a couple of steps only knee-deep in water and froze, feeling sudden dizziness and nausea. The water was so clear and shimmering that it was hard to understand what real depth lied ahead. Some underwater stones and common unevenness of the bottom only added to said effect of uncertainty. The brunette almost offered to turn back, unable to overcome this weakness combined with irrational fear of suddenly going under water, but then Luis was the first to step forward and, turning around, held out his hand to her.

- Hold tight and look at me, not at the water, - understanding and care were reflecting in his gray eyes, and confidence that nothing bad would happen.

Jessy nodded and, clutching to the offered hand, also took a step. She almost went off balance immediately, but Luis never allowed her to fall, simply pressing her to his chest and letting to wait out this dizzy spell. Her next step was much more confident, but she never let go of her Spaniard's hand. Fortunately, there wasn't much distance left to go, and just a little bit longer before their intended destination.

The entrance to that small beach was partially covered by a pile of stones — and without knowing that there was a passage there, it could be easily missed. Jessica confidently dived into this very passage, waving to Serra to keep up. To a casual observer it would seem as if they had vanished into the barrier. And there they were met by light sea breeze, gentle sun and salty spray. The couple could also hear the even roar of the surf, accompanied by the rustle of stones carried away by the waves. And absolutely black sand was quite striking addition to the view.

- Vaya, - the Spaniard breathed out in pure fascination. - How beautiful...

- It is, - the girl responded quietly, leaning into her man's shoulder. - I've missed this place so much...

They dropped the backpacks and set up the place for their base camp, spreading the beach mat and pinning it down with suitable cobbles so that it wouldn't be blown away.

- There is a natural pool of a kind here, that area surrounded by rocks, about waist-deep for me... The water usually warms up faster in there, - and Jessica fell silent, realizing that yesterday she was so desperate for any kind of distraction that she did not even ask what exactly they plan to do on the beach. - By the way... You *can* swim, right?

- Only in fresh water, - Luis, who has already managed to pull off his shirt and jeans and even settle on the mat, saw the mentioned "pool" and smiled in anticipation. - There was a swimming pool at the uni, and we didn't always have our lake contaminated with that... thing. But I haven't got a chance to swim in the sea yet.

- It's said it's easier to swim in salty water, it pushes you to the surface, - the girl relaxed a bit and reached for a bottle of sunscreen. - Do you want me to help with your back? The forecast said that sun can be quite active today.

- And why only my back is worthy of your attention? - the Spaniard pretended to be indignant, nevertheless obediently turning over on his stomach. - What about the rest parts of my body?

- Well, if you insist... - Jessy readily played along, squeezing the lotion onto the man's back and applying it with confident movements on his shoulders and neck, trying not to disturb that new scar under his left shoulder blade. Skin at that place was still too sensitive.

She even touched top of his ears with the lotion out of an old habit, explaining to Serra, who jerked in surprise, that people rarely think that such body parts need protection too, and sunburned ears are really unpleasant experience.

- The only thing worse is getting the scalp sunburned in the parting, - the girl giggled, recalling that *unforgettable* experience of hers. - Moreover, no one believes you when you get sunburns in such weird places. So, roll over and let's continue.

A new portion of the sunscreen was squeezed on a broad chest with the older scar, and soft hands got back to work — gently rubbing the lotion onto chest, arms, stomach... Throughout the process gray eyes were never turning away from brunette's slightly smiling face. However, when those hands slipped on his sides, Serra tried to squirm out from under the light touches.

- Don't, Jess, - the man pleaded through involuntary laughter. - Por favor...

- Sorry, sunshine, - the girl quickly removed her hands and gently touched the tip of her beloved's nose with her finger, leaving a little bit of lotion there. - I guess, you'd better finish this on your own.

While Serra was finishing with his face and legs, his companion got rid of her T—shirt and hiking pants, fished out from her backpack another bottle with a sunscreen of higher SPF, and began to apply the protective coating. With her rather pale skin using a more powerful remedy was quite a logical choice.

- And now it's your turn, - the Spaniard almost purred, not even trying to hide a playful glint in his eyes. - Get down and hand me your lotion.

Jessica stretched out on the beach mat with a smile, exposing her back to the man who knelt next to her, ready to return the favor. Suddenly it dawned on Jessy that she really trusted Luis. Not forcing herself to trust him - it was simply there. During their "Spanish adventure" she had absolutely no time to stop and muse about such things, but now the realization has finally caught up with her.

She only instinctively tensed for a second when deft fingers unhooked the top of her swimsuit. It was a public place, after all, and she was not quite ready for being that explicit. It felt just like a quick test for developed trust, so Jessy relaxed. Luis still noticed her reaction and stopped to explain his intentions.

- This is just to cover all of your skin, - his words did not diverge from the deed, with strong hands smoothly sliding along the curves of the female body, carefully wrapping it with an even layer of sunscreen. - The straps and belt are too thin, if they shift, you won't like the outcome.

- Been there, done that, - the brunette admitted with a stifled chuckle, patiently waiting until the Spaniard hooked everything back, in order to roll over on her back and put her chest and stomach under his caring hands.

Of course, she could have managed on her own from that point, but it felt so nice to be taken care of, that the girl just mentally shushed her inner voice and allowed herself to revel in such an uncommon feeling.

They chatted a bit more, while waiting for the sunscreen to "cure" on their skin. Jessy shared a couple of funny sea-related stories from her past. Though shocked expression on Spaniard's face openly hinted her that the particular story about her almost drowning at the age of five was not that funny as it seemed to her.

- Hey, it was okay, - she tried to lighten the mood. - My dad was close by. He plucked me out of water in no time. It was not enough time for me even to get scared.

- I just can't imagine that I could've never met you, if it wasn't for your dad... - Serra whispered, slightly shaking his head and reaching with his hand to touch the shoulder of his vis-à-vis as if to make sure she was still real.

- But I made it to this day nonetheless, - brunette shrugged and smiled warmly.

After a few more minutes of silence Luis easily got to his feet and stretched out his hand to Jessica, helping her to get up. Then he pulled her towards the "natural pool", not letting go of girl's hand. The water, however, was not yet fully warmed up, but it already felt quite pleasant. And it was much, much warmer than in the mountain creeks in the wilderness of Valdelobos, as the Spaniard mentally noted.

As soon as Jessy was knee-deep in the water, she stopped for a while and took a deep breath, taking some time to adjust to the temperature. And then, gently freeing her hand from Serra's hold, she pushed off from the sandy bottom and slid into the water with a soft exclamation. The first dive after a long break was always a little uncomfortable for her and required some efforts. After taking a couple of strokes, the girl swiftly turned over on her back, exposing her face to the sun and letting the water catch her. Fortunately, there were no big waves this time.

Luis followed suit right away, relaxing on his back close by and just occasionally touching his girlfriend's hand or shoulder with his own. His pose was an expression of a tacit agreement for "no active long-distance swims yet".

After floating in the water like this for a little, they slowly swam together to the stone borderline that separated this small lagoon from the open sea. The couple settled there, enjoying beautiful views of the sea or their secluded beach.

Jessica, in gentle reverie, admired how small waves rolled over hardly visible rocks in the water and crashed on the shore. And Luis, amazed by the transparency of the water, tried to look at the bottom of their improvised pool — his gaze was captivated by nimble fish, colorful starfish, colonies of shellfish and corals. Suddenly, an unusually shaped shell lying a little further away caught his eye, and Serra decided to dive for it to get a better look. It took him a few tries, and it also got Jessy's attention. Finally resurfacing with the loot, Luis turned the find over in his hands, then handed it to his girl. She put the shell on the palm of her hand, but suddenly, with an ouch, shook off the object of study into the water.

- What's wrong? - Serra asked, with concern evident in his voice.

- Something pinched me, - the brunette was obviously embarrassed by her own reaction. - Not that it hurts much, more like I just didn't expect it...

The Spaniard examined Jessy's palm for possible damage, then looked for this shell again. When he spotted it, he carefully knelt down, plunging into the water almost up to his shoulders, and took the shell out, turning its aperture to the light. Something with pincers was clearly stirring inside.

- Oh, so it's one of the Paguroidea species, - Luis smiled involuntarily. - I didn't think they can be found here too. - A hermit crab? - Jessica instantly forgot about her palm and, literally hanging on the Spaniard's shoulders, stared curiously at the shell resident, who was clearly dissatisfied with such intense attention. - This is the first time I've ever seen one, not on TV, not in the aquarium and not in the encyclopedia. Awesome!

- They are usually not aggressive to bigger opponents, - Serra nodded, watching how a representative of marine fauna menacingly moved its claw. - We seem to have just scared this one. - Let's put it back to its natural habitat then, - Jessica expressed their shared thought, adding with a chuckle. - As long as it doesn't come back to bite our heels for this.

- It'll rather be glad that it was released and will not risk another encounter, - Luis laughed heartily, arranging the shell in the water closer to the stone barrier.

The girl also laughed at this joke and hugged her man as he swam closer to her again.

- You know, it's warmer around you, - the Spaniard suddenly remarked in a soft voice, returning the hug. - You're like a little sun with an aura of warmth. To hide her embarrassment at such a compliment, Jessy splashed this eloquent subject and, with a laugh, twisted out of his hands, trying to swim away. This unexpected childishness resulted in a small water duel, which ended in a draw. Or, as the girl proclaimed: "friendship always wins!" - after which, with her arms outstretched, she fell backwards into a small wave, raising a cloud of salty spray... only to be almost immediately back in the firm embrace. Luis was glad that his crazy idea worked and his querida is still able to enjoy simple things. Even after such great loss. Only the shadow of guilt lurking in her hazel eyes kept him a bit worried. He himself had only one night *then*. Afterwards there was no time: his studies and the need to provide his living completely absorbed even hints of free time for several years. He managed, and developed the mask of “a good-for-nothing guy, who happens to be quite a ladies' man”. And under that mask there was an acute, painful sense of guilt: he was not there, he could not help, he did not prevent... Now his own experience seemed to be quite useful. Luis could roughly imagine the direction of his girl's thoughts, and see where it would be possible to intervene and lend her a shoulder. After all, even the strongest and most hardy at some point may break down.

- Let's go back to the shore and get some sun? - the brunette, who went quiet in his arms, offered hesitantly.

Her fingers were absentmindedly tracing some patterns on his chest, and it was... rather pleasant.

- I like the idea, mi vida, - Serra planted soft kiss on his girlfriend's temple and pushed her in the right direction. - A snack would be nice too.

The sea did not quite share their intentions, trying to knock the pair down, like a too playful puppy would, and then drag them back into its depth. Thankfully, it was much easier to get out together.

After drying off with beach towels, the couple paid the closest attention to their food supplies. Sandwiches with cheese and dates were delicious, although the sea air usually made everything tastier anyway. And Luis was very surprised, when Jessica took out a thermos with green tea - the most unexpected and uncommon option for a picnic on the beach. However, it turned out that she forgot to take mugs, and they only had the lid of the said thermos at their disposal.

- One for two is a great option, - Serra stated with a playful grin, deliberately taking a sip so that his lips touched this "mug" in the same place as his companion's.

- I'm glad that we share this opinion, - the girl returned both the gesture and the smile. - An orange for a dainty?

- Sure! - the Spaniard grabbed their improvised mug with his left hand so that Jessica could peel the citrus, but then his shoulder was pierced by a sharp pain and his fingers went numb and weak, forcing the man to hiss through clenched teeth. - Mierda...

The girl with a soft cry threw another small towel over the spilled tea and scurried behind Luis's back. He was clutching his hurting limb to his chest and it was such a vivid and unexpected reminder of the past injury.

- Guess, I've overestimated my condition... - the Spaniard's voice sounded strained.

- The doctor warned me that you might still have twinges like this from time to time, - Jessy's hands confidently glided over his aching muscles, starting from the upper back, stroking, pressing harder, kneading carefully. - He was talking about build-up of scar tissue as a possible cause. Now, it should get better... And the pain really subsided, yielding slowly to firm but gentle touches. When Serra's back finally relaxed under her fingers, brunette sighed with relief and pressed a small kiss upon that creepy scar. She remembered how they had to cauterize the wound with the same plaga removal laser, wrecking all the settings and restoring them again to get rid of those parasites. All because there was nothing left to sew up the wound with.

Shaking off those memories, girl wrapped her arms around Luis, pulling him a bit closer. He, in response, covered the palms that settled on his chest with his own and slightly leaned back, sinking into that warm embrace. - Gracias, querida mía, - his fingertips slid over her forearms in a tender caress. - I hope I didn't scare you too much... - I was more scared when you passed out on the operating table in your own lab, under my hands, - the girl admitted with a nervous laugh, carefully moving to her former place next to Luis and snuggling against his side. - As of today... Thank goodness, that the tea was not boiling hot. We'll do just fine without any burns.

After calming down a little, she finally peeled an orange, handed it to the Spaniard and reached for the second one, this time for herself. She noticed the fact that Serra was willing to share only when a slice of orange was already touching her lips. Jessica did not turn down the treat, followed by the man's fingers weightlessly brushing over her lips, his warm palm resting comfortably on her cheek. She smiled and leaned slightly into Serra's touch, turning her face to him for a kiss with an orange-salty taste.

The kiss was short though and when their lips parted, the couple just finished their snacks and went to lie down on the beach mat, snuggling side by side. Pebbles rustled softly, carried by the waves along the bottom, gulls cried in the sky, sunlight caressed the skin... Luis and Jessy were having fun cloud-gazing, sunglasses in place. Strings of fantastic images floated through the sky above them, driven by the wind: a large turtle, a dancing couple, a kitten playing with a ball of yarn, "Enterprise NCC-1701", that space station "Babylon 5", a sailboat, a dragon, an archer...

Soon the wind changed and brought in black clouds. Noticing this, Jessica reluctantly offered to call it a day and, as soon as their swimsuits were completely dry, slowly move towards their temporary home. Even if it wasn't supposed to rain, weather forecasts did not always pass the reality check.

To pass the wait a little, the girl sat up and reached for a small pointed pebble. She drew several lines on a larger flat stone with it. To Luis's surprise, these lines stood out on the black surface in a gray-brownish color, though the pebble was black too. The first clumsy lines were gradually turning into a simple silhouette of a lighthouse above the sea.

- Hey, you're good, - the Spaniard smiled upon seeing the final picture.

- Nah, I can't draw, - the girl dismissed his comment with ease, throwing her pebble "pencil" into the wave that ran ashore. - That's just my itchy fingers, nothing more.

- I dare to disagree on this statement, - Serra squinted slyly, taking the flat stone with a drawing from the brunette's hand before she sent it into the water too. - A little more practice, and it will no longer be "good", but "excelente".

In response, Jessica vaguely shrugged and, picking up another handful of dark pebbles, consistently sent them into the water, immersing in her thoughts. However, she was not allowed to stay like that for a long time and was soon distracted. Drying off after sea bathe, her hair fluffed up a little, curling and framing Jessy's face with a light-brown halo, trying to get into her eyes and mouth. Second distraction was Luis, who plucked a long blade of grass, and took part in the fun mini-game "tickle-a-friend". The Spaniard was quickly caught doing this, but at a reproachful stare, he just smiled broadly and stretched out his hand to smooth his companion's disheveled hair, which only resulted in another hug.

With all this childishness in action, time to go back home came swiftly. Their swimsuits finally dried out, the wind grew stronger, the sea became stormy... Luis and Jessy had to hurry up with packing, yet the first drops of rain caught them almost at the forest edge. Luckily, it gave them a chance to hide from such weather under the green dome of branches, at least for a while.

They still had to run from the forest to the bus stop to avoid getting soaked to the skin. However, it didn't help much. But when Luis and Jessy got back to the neighborhood where they lived at the moment, it looked like there was no rain there at all. After exchanging puzzled glances and quickly assessing their appearance a la "we went swimming in our clothes", they both burst out laughing. That attracted the attention of a passerby who turned out to be one of Jessy's distant relatives. And that man didn't hesitate to express his disapproval for such behavior of the girl in mourning for someone as significant as her own brother. Jessica visibly stiffened from being scolded, her guilt rearing its ugly head again. Serra noticed this change in his girlfriend's mood, and realized that he neither can nor should tolerate it. He stepped forward, as if trying to shield his girl from unpleasant conversation with his body. It was hard to contain his anger, but Luis mustered the calmest tone he was capable of at the moment. He was not aiming for a fight after all.

- I don't know about you lot, but I personally prefer that miss Jonzz here stayed among living, - he added more menacing undertone to his voice, pinning the other man with a slightly disgusted glare. - And not cried herself into heart attack or cardiac arrest just to maintain someone's else believes of how it's appropriate to grieve.

This rebuke somehow silenced an uninvited do-gooder and forced him to beat a hasty retreat. As soon as this person disappeared from sight, Serra turned to face brunette and gently pushed her chin up with one hand just to meet her unsure hazel eyes with his steel gray ones.

- It's not your fault, Jess, - Spaniard's tone was all about firm, but gentle care mixed with a tint of worry. - You are absolutely allowed to take care of yourself under any circumstances. Remember that, por favor.

- I know, - Jessy tried to smile, almost successfully, and to shook off the dreadful feeling of guilt's filthy paws reaching to claim her soul. - I... I'm okay. Let's go, Luis?

- Sure thing, cariño, - with a wide smile Serra swung his hand over girl's shoulders and pulled her into the right direction. - Our new cats must be waiting us already!

The cats were really waiting, and their patience was finally rewarded. Chirrups, squeaky little trills and cute meows filled the space of the murky apartment, making both Luis and Jessy smile and giggle at such enthusiasm. In fact, little calico cat and his gray brother acted like they knew that right now their humans needed all the positive attention they could provide. Gray one even tried to climb up Serra's leg, but was quickly and gently picked up and placed over Spaniard's shoulder. Meanwhile calico cat sniffed and licked at Jessica's ankles, as soon as she took off her shoes, of course.

- Hey, fur baby, it tickles, - brunette laughed and knelt down to pet this welcoming committee. - I know, I know: you and your little brother missed us.

Smiling to another almost shy meow, Jessica stood up and, after asking Luis if he didn't mind, headed to the shower, to wash off sea salt and sand still stuck on her skin. Serra wished he could join, but this bathroom was too small for two, so he stayed behind to occupy cats' attention instead.

He scooped up the second cat and sank into the nearest (and only) armchair. Those cats, although young, were very skilled at common cats' things, and they've purred their new man into light sleep in no time. When Jessy was done, she came right to a snooze-town. The sight was heartwarming and peaceful, but to shower was a must, so the girl had to wake Luis up.

Brunette watched her loved one go, yawning and carefully pulling off his shirt on the way. Cats yawned in sync and jumped down from the armchair. The movement caught Jessy's eye and she noticed a book with colorful cover lying on the floor. She changed from her bathrobe into T-shirt and funny shorts with TMNT print, then reached to pick that book up and smiled fondly at it's name: “50 best baking recipes from around the world”. It was her gift for her brother's last birthday. This memory made Jessy's heart sank again, and she quickly flipped through a few pages to detach herself from this sorrow for just a bit longer. The girl checked out some recipes and stopped at one, baked churros. It seemed pretty easy to cook, and all ingredients were present in the fridge.

- Oh, temptations... - Jessica sighed softly after considering some other options from this book.

- Are you talking about me, mi amor?

Her train of thought was interrupted by Luis, refreshed and relaxed... and wearing only a towel around his hips. His hair still slightly wet from the shower and his smile as charming as usual - a real eye candy.

- And about you, too, - Jessy couldn't help, but smile in response.- But, actually, I've been thinking about trying this recipe... What do you think?

- Sounds great, - Serra pushed the damp hair out of his face and headed to change into something more suitable, than a towel. - Wait for me.

He was rather fond of this idea for even more quality time together, and it worked out pretty well.

As the late day gradually turned into early evening, sorrow, that was almost perceptible the day before, finally shrunk and hid in the darkest corner of the apartment. Combined efforts of Luis and two impish kitties left no chances for it to overtake again.

The rest of the evening went pleasantly and peacefully, with tea and home-baked churros, and heartwarming talks on the sofa. Cats tried their best too, singing cats' songs, kneading and even clawing lightly at their humans' limbs. And after a while tiredness, mixed with loud purring lulled Jessy to sleep.

Tight embrace of her beloved Spaniard, his steady heartbeat, and her feeling secured helped the matter too.

Luis smiled gently at the girl lying in his arms, and closed his eyes too, drifting off to sleep. Both cats immediately seized the opportunity to pin their humans to the sofa for more feline comfort, and the apartment went silent.

This spontaneous beach day turned out to be the much needed breather for Jessy. A little something to make future look brighter and less hopeless for her, even with all those unwanted changes. It was easier to believe now, that she won't be struggling with everything on her own. And it became plainly obvious that she was not alone anymore. They were not alone.

#Luis Serra x OC #Luis Serra

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