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#maybe I want orange walls
tj-crochets · 1 year
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I finally got around to washing my rainbow triangle quilt and putting it on my bed!
Not pictured: under this rainbow quilt is another, different rainbow quilt lol
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chesedelhim · 3 months
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Thinking About Shrimp Tank Thursday
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arthur-r · 2 years
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progress on my painting from a while ago
#it’s still just very base layers but i hadn’t got a chance to do anything to it since that first day#(i’m borrowing my older sisters canvasses and she’s the one who has all the paints too these days which used to be mine#so she’s keeping my work in progress canvas with all her painting stuff and it only comes out of the whole family is ready to paint#which mostly just means us kids but only happens if my littlest sister is interested and today she was)#anyway im very excited to have a painting to put up on my wall of a bear playing cello#the end pin is gonna be stuck out real long too look at how far it is to where his lower foot is at#cause usually you don’t play the cello when you’re standing and if you do you often have a strap or something similar#but i don’t use a strap (mainly because i only play sitting down but like. if i stood i would use the end pin)#and so neither does he. one real self insert of an imaginary cellist bear he must be#also one thing i’m gonna struggle with is differentiating the cello from the bear in color. like yeah they’re different shades of brown but#i only have so much different colors of paint to mix together#but yknow what. things happen and that’s all they ever do and if it doesn’t look good then i’ll figure something else out#maybe it’ll have to be an orange cello. these kinds of things are unpredictable shdhdf#anyway i hope you think of me like i think of this painting (as a grizzly bear playing a cello or as a thing you like and are proud of)#but yeah hi im at the house of some cats right now. feeding them and such. but there’s this other unafilliated cat who belongs to their#roommate josh. and his cat is named bear so you’d think we’d get along but he’s scratched me in six different spots today#he always wants to eat the other cats food so i have to pick him up and carry him to another room and that makes him very upset with me#anyway the cats take a long time to eat and i can’t leave until they’re done so that i can let out bear when he no longer poses a threat#which means im just kind of chilling in a friends empty house (josh is gone for the moment) with nothing much to do except wait#and i’m sure hoping to walk home before it’s pitch dark out but that would probably mean giving up and letting bear out to steal their food#so good luck to me on that front. anyway im rambling a little i was just trying to post this picture shdhdhdf#so. i hope to work on it again soon in not very long. and i just really like painting things with a paintbrush it makes me feel less bad#when i mess up in whatever ways. because everyone always complains about traditional art so it’s more universal. i like it better though too#anyway i’ll be here for the next while just hoping to head home before 9:30. let me know if you need anything though#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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confetti-critter · 3 months
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I played minecraft for pretty much the whole day cuz there was no work today, and now I gotta do not minecraft stuff and it sucks ass 👎👎👎👎👎
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windowsandfeelings · 1 year
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Ok opinions please: does this tapestry work with my quilt?
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jellyfishrnice · 14 days
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Yandere! Rich suitor idea
Hear me out-
The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!
Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.
The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.
Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.
Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.
And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.
Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.
But, the attraction was simply one sided.
You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!
He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.
And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.
-
"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?
"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.
"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.
You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.
"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"
"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?
"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"
"I don't want other options."
You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.
You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.
"I'm leaving."
"What?"
"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.
You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.
But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.
"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."
"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.
You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.
"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"
"No." He says in a much firmer tone.
It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.
"You're not leaving."
-
HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO
Not proof read forgive me 😔
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girlygirl14534 · 3 months
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Body Heat - Bucky x Reader
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Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Snowed In, Only One Bed
Length: 3.7k
Summary: A blizzard knocks out the power in the safehouse where you and Bucky are sharing a bed. Can Bucky keep you warm through the cold night?
Author’s Note: It has been so cold where I live lately and there’s nobody better than Bucky to warm me up. I’m entering this work into @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge. I don’t participate in a lot of fandom events, so this was really fun! I used the Only One Bed trope and the Dialogue Prompts “Take your clothes off. Right now,” and “Are you holding back? Don’t.” Happy reading and stay warm! Divider via @firefly-graphics
Read this work on AO3
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“You didn’t even want to get egg rolls,” Bucky whined as you grabbed one off of his plate.
You grinned as you bit into it. He smiled back at you, but his shoulders shifted ever so slightly, tipping you off to his next move. His chopsticks swooped onto your plate in retaliation, but you were ready for him, blocking his attempt on your orange chicken.
He glared at you and you relented. He popped the chicken into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your beer. It was a local brew. A little hoppy but not too bitter, with a surprisingly crisp taste. You loved trying beers at every new little town you ended up at. Nothing beat a cold beer after a long mission, even if it was 20 degrees and dropping outside.
It was warm and cozy inside the little cabin. This safe house was cuter than most. It had a little wood stove and lace tablecloth—definitely grandmother-approved. The place was small, but you’d stayed at smaller ones. Although most had at least a few twin size cots. The bed here looked comfortable, but there was only one.
“It’s picking up out there,” Bucky nodded at the window. Outside you could see the snow swirling in the wind.
“The Winter Soldier scared of a little snow?” you teased.
“Oh, shut up. You wouldn’t last ten seconds out there. Remember Helsinki?”
“That is so unfair! I fell into a frozen pond!”
“I told you not to walk on that patch of ice!”
“You were being a know-it-all.”
“That’s because I actually know it all.”
You threw your half-eaten egg roll at him.
“You didn’t even eat it?!”
You shrugged and he glared at you as he finished it. After dinner, you got ready for bed. It had been a long day. When Bucky came out of the shower, you were already under the paisley-printed covers.
He grinned at you. “That’s my favorite bonnet,” he said, nodding at the silky cap on your head.
“You have favorite bonnets of mine?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen you in enough of them. I love the one with rhinestones on the headband. You look like a queen. The Kirby one is really cute, too.”
“Nice try, Bucky.” You threw a pillow at him. “You’re still sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
You knew he was going to jump on the bed a second before he did it, but you didn’t stop him. He looked so satisfied with himself.
“Time for bed,” you said as you started stacking pillows on the bed between you.
“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he teased.
“Don’t think I forgot how you hogged the couch in Bangladesh.”
“I maintain that you rolled off of the couch by yourself.”
“Well then consider it protection from me rolling you off the bed.”
He laughed as you finished the wall of pillows, marking your territory. You were just grateful that the bed was big enough to have your own space and that there were enough blankets that you wouldn’t have to share. You loved Bucky, but in your friendship you were more likely to trade insults than share the covers. Was there something more behind the words you traded? Maybe. Sometimes it felt obvious that he felt the same and other times you were certain that he just saw you as a friend.
If you were just friends, you were friends that lived and worked in very close quarters. You’d had a lot of hands-on moments working the mission with him today. If you had a little more privacy, you’d probably be touching yourself right now thinking about the weight of him on top of you as he tackled you to the ground to protect you, his hair tickling your face as he whispered a new tactical plan into your ear. Instead you were stuck here, close but not close enough. You sighed in frustration.
“Need a bedtime story?” Bucky asked.
“Once upon a time, a former assassin wouldn’t shut up while his teammate tried to sleep.”
“Teammate? That’s all I am to you?” he asked. The hurt and offense in his voice almost sounded real.
“What do you want to be described as?” you asked.
“Just get some sleep, princess.”
You chuckled and rolled over, soon falling asleep. You dreamt of him, of course. Of his hands on you. One warm, one cold. And then it was just his left hand. It was so cold. You let him keep touching you, of course. You didn’t care if you got frostbite. You just wanted him to keep touching you.
You were pissed when you woke up before you could climax. But you quickly realized it wasn’t just cold in your dream. Your teeth were chattering in real life.
“Fuck. It’s freezing,” you said.
“Power’s out,” Bucky said. “Must be the storm.”
“Can we make a fire?”
“I checked. The stove is electric.”
“Are you sure? That thing looks older than you.”
Bucky laughed. “I think I saw a few candles in the cupboard.” He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen. He lit them and placed them around the room.
“Bring one here. Maybe I can warm my hands.”
He laughed as he flopped back onto his side of the bed. “I know it’s cold in here. With the blizzard, there’s no way we’ll make it down the mountain. In the morning, we can—”
“I’m not gonna make it to morning! Feel my fingers!”
Bucky outstretched his right hand toward you, smiling in amusement at what he assumed was exaggeration. When you touched him, his expression changed to one of concern. Maybe things were worse than you thought. Maybe it really was frostbite. Bucky started taking down the pillow barrier.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“You’re right,” he said as he threw pillows over his shoulder and onto the floor.
“Oooh, say that again.”
He laughed. “It’s too cold in here. You need body heat.”
You rolled your eyes but he kept moving pillows. “You’re serious?”
He nodded as he got rid of the last pillow. He awkwardly opened his arms. You scooted closer to him. This wasn’t how you wanted his arms around you, but you were too cold to deny him. He wrapped his big, strong arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, and not just because of the warmth. He held you tight to him and you would’ve stayed just like forever, but you were still shivering. It felt like the chill had settled into your bones. The extra warmth from Bucky was only making it more obvious just how cold it was in the tiny cabin.
“We need skin to skin,” Bucky said.
You laughed but he didn’t.
“Take your clothes off. Right now,” he said.
Maybe the frigid air was impacting your decision-making, because instead of denying him, you complied. Tried to, anyway. Your fingers were so numb from the cold that you fumbled with the hem of your shirt. He gently nudged your fingers aside and helped you out of your shirt. You’d imagined the first time he took your clothes off a little differently, but you couldn’t care about that now. Once your shirt was off, he took his off too.
He hugged you again then. Your bare skin felt electrified where it touched his. He held your hands to his chest to warm them. With his hardened pecs beneath your fingers, it took all of your willpower not to squeeze.
“Is that better?” he asked.
You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You stayed like that for a few minutes, afraid to move. Afraid that at some point he’d decide that you were warm enough. You weren’t warm enough. In any sense. You needed him closer for survival, but it became increasingly difficult to tell if you needed him because you were cold or because you were horny.
“You’re not warm enough,” he said finally. You didn’t argue.
When he pulled away, the sudden loss of warmth made your body tense up. He immediately placed his arms around you again.
“I won’t let go of you anymore, okay?”
You hated how pathetic your voice sounded when you responded, “Okay.”
His arm reached between your bodies to pull his pants down. You told yourself that you weren’t going to look, but your eyes had a mind of their own. You watched his fingers grip his waistband and tug down his boxers and his pants. Suddenly he was naked. Even in the dim lighting, you could see how big he was. His eyes went straight to yours to check in, but he found no objection. You looked away to be polite, but felt too awkward to look into his eyes. You turned around so that your back was to his chest. You were grateful that he couldn’t see your face when he started to pull your pants down. If he was hesitant about this plan, his movements didn’t show it. He was smooth and deliberate, quickly ridding you of your pajamas and underwear. When you were both undressed, he pulled you close. When you felt his cock against your ass, you shivered, and it wasn’t because of the freezing temperatures.
“That’s it,” he said. “Turn over.”
He didn’t wait for you to move, effortlessly pulling you onto your back and laying on top of you. Bucky was naked. You were naked. And he was on top of you. You were short of breath just thinking about it.
“Don’t tell me I’m taking your breath away,” he teased.
“You’re heavy,” you retorted. “I think you may need to start laying off the eggrolls.”
As you laughed together, you became hyper aware of how close your bodies were, of just how much physical contact you had. The laughing stopped abruptly.
“Why didn’t you take off my bra?” you whispered. “Afraid that once you see these you’ll be ruined for all other boobs?”
“Yes,” he nodded as he reached under you, large hands rubbing your back and unhooking the clasp. He slowly slid your straps down your arms. He looked into your eyes as he pulled your bra from between your bodies and threw it onto the floor.
Here you were, caged in his warmth, looking deep into his eyes like in one of your fantasies. And yet your instinct was to make a stupid joke, find some way to make this feel less serious. But you couldn’t think straight with his dick resting on your stomach and his warm breath on your face.
“Better?” he asked.
“Eh. Still a little chilly,” you joked breathlessly.
“I can get you warmer,” he said seriously.
You laughed. “I don’t think we could physically be any closer than we are right now.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Well, technically we could be a little closer.”
“Barnes, if I go outside in the morning and find out that you cut the powerlines…”
“I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on my watch. I don’t have to move or anything. Just to keep you warm.”
You wanted to roll your eyes and hit him on the arm, but his sincerity caught you off guard.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’m not a fan of the cold either. I’ve spent too much of my life frozen already. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought…”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. “And don’t worry, when I tell Nat this story, I won’t even mention the shrinkage.”
He laughed with you and then shook his head at you.
“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.
“Stick your dick in me, apparently.”
He swallowed nervously. “Are you…? Are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question how wet you were already. You certainly weren’t going to bring up the fact that you had felt his length slowly hardening against you for the last few minutes.
“I, uh, just gotta…” He reached down to pump himself a few times, looking anywhere but you. You wanted to change that.
“You can look at me, Bucky.”
His eyes found yours. You’d never seen this expression on his face before. He was never this easy to read. Even though he’d beaten the Winter Soldier programming, he usually always kept a part of himself closed off. Those defenses were gone now. In their place was yearning. A desire so deep it was overwhelming. The way he looked at you was the same way you felt about him.
You arched your back, drawing attention to your chest. “You can also look here, if it helps.”
He looked at your breasts for the first time. His mouth fell open in awe. You hoped you really were ruining him for other women. You hoped he would never look at anyone else like this for as long as he lived. His eyes went from your chest back to your face as he shifted between your legs. You bit your lip when you felt the head of his cock prod your entrance. It would take everything in your power not to moan. This was probably a very bad idea. But still you let your legs fall open wider to give him easier access.
When he first pushed in, you drew a shaky breath. He stopped moving, eyes anxiously searching yours. He was terrified you’d ask him to stop. Quite the contrary.
“That all you got?” you asked.
He smirked at you before resuming his progress. Despite your earlier joke, you felt your walls stretch around him as he pushed further into you. You felt every single inch, but it was torture not being able to wrap your legs around his hips or claw at his back like you wanted to.
When he was fully seated, he stilled. You took a few deep breaths. It was dizzying, being this close to him, this full of him. It was his turn to tell you, “You can look at me, ya know.”
You looked at him in the flickering candlelight. His hair obscured your view of his face. You reached up and tucked it behind his ear. He nuzzled his face against your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel his warm cock throbbing inside of you. He was looking at you so romantically that you forgot where you were for a moment. Your body did, too. Your pussy clenched around him. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if he’d felt it. You heard him groan. Right before you felt him thrust.
His eyes darted to you, panicked. You’d seen him panic once before, as he pulled you out of the ice in Finland. That day he’d warmed you up by the fire with plenty of hot drinks and some light teasing. You preferred the current method of warming you up. Which is why you let him hear you. You moaned for him. If you’d been less desperate for him to fuck you, you would’ve been embarassed by how needy you sounded. It was nothing compared to the strangled cry Bucky let out with his second thrust. You expected him to keep moving, but he stopped again. He leaned in, eyes urgent.
“The first time I saw you,” he panted, “I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever—”
Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t have him saying things he didn’t mean. “You don’t have to flatter me, Buck—”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true. And you are so beautiful.”
You placed your hands behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. You weren’t sure what it was going to be like, your first kiss with Bucky. Especially since that first kiss was occurring after he was already inside of you. When your lips touched, you both sighed with relief. His lips were soft. You weren’t expecting that. His tongue probed your lips gently, and you gladly gave it access. He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second. He cupped your breast with his right hand, softly stroking it. His touches were almost reverent. It would’ve been romantic if you weren’t so needy. There’d be time for slow and steady. You hoped so, anyway. Right now you needed fire. You needed his touch to chase away the cold.
“Are you holding back on me, Barnes? Don’t.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He bent his head and attached his lips to your neck. He pulled the delicate flesh between his teeth as the hand on your breast eagerly squeezed. His metal hand tightened its grip on your hip. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d have a bruise in the shape of his handprint tomorrow. Proof that this had actually happened. Proof it wasn’t just the best dream of your life.
Maybe you wanted to mark him, too. Maybe that’s why you tangled your fingers in his hair while you raked the nails of the other hand down his back. He grunted as he drove into you with renewed force, the headboard rattling against the wall.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet. So tight. So perfect. Even better than I—” he stopped himself.
“Better than you imagined?” you suggested.
He nodded.
“You imagine me?” you asked, breathless.
“Every day,” he confessed.
You moved your hips in time with his next stroke, taking him deeper than ever. You both cursed. With each thrust, you knew things would never be the same. With each thrust, you got more and more desperate for him to ruin you. You writhed desperately under him and he only gripped you tighter, forcing you to stay still and accept your pleasure like a good girl. He angled his hips so that he was massaging your g-spot with every thrust. The head of his cock dragged against your center of pleasure over and over again in a relentless pursuit for your climax. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder and faster but you didn’t want this to end yet. Not until he was as ruined as you were.
You took your hands away from him and brought them to your chest. You gripped your breasts tightly and moaned. He was mesmerized. You pinched your nipples and rolled your hips, putting on a show for him. You needed to know that he would never forget this. That he would never forget you. You tugged on your nipples and cried his name.
“That’s my job,” he said. You smirked at him.
You put your fingers in his open mouth and brought them to your clit and started rubbing slow circles. You watched his eyes darken. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he licked your fingers clean. Instead of putting your hand back where he found it, he brought his metal fingers to your clit instead, taking over your ministrations there. The cold, hard metal rhythmically massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves until his name was the only word in your vocabulary.
You wouldn’t last much longer. You’d see to it that neither would he. You attached your lips to his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. His fingers on your clit went from slow circles to frantic figure 8s. Your back arched in pleasure as you felt your walls tighten around Bucky’s cock. His hips stuttered as he flooded you with warmth. Your legs shook when you felt him fill you. You whimpered his name. He whispered yours. Before you could even catch your breath, it happened.
You both knew the second the power turned back on. The hum of the fridge, the rattle of the old radiator, the red “Off” light on the coffee pot. It was like a bomb going off in the bubble you’d built. You looked at each other, startled, as if you were just realizing the extent of what you had done. For a split second, you considered pulling away from him and getting dressed, pretending none of this had ever happened. But you didn’t want that, not while his cum was still warm inside you and aftershocks of your orgasm were still rocking your core. You two spoke at the same time.
“It’ll probably take a while before you’re warm eno—”
“The power could go off again at any mo—”
“Sorry—”
“What were you saying—”
You both chuckled self-consciously.
“You love being inside me, don’t you, Barnes?” you teased with no taunting in your voice. You felt his dick twitch. You rolled your hips. “Is that a yes?”
He bit his lip and looked at you with more than lust. It was devotion.
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Good. Because you’re the only one that can keep me warm.”
“What about me?” he asked.
You looked at him, perplexed.
“I get cold, too.”
“What can I warm up for you, Bucky?”
“My ears are kinda cold,” he said.
Oh. Not exactly what you were thinking about warming up, but ok. You reached out to stroke the side of his face. He smiled and blushed, but nuzzled into your hand.
“Your thighs should be pretty warm now…”
Oh. Your thighs could keep his ears warm. You would happily straddle his face in the name of reciprocity. It was the least you could do, right?
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The heat hadn’t gone out again during the night, but you still felt like you needed Bucky’s warmth.
“I didn’t tamper with the generator,” Bucky said. “But I should have. I should’ve warmed you up like that when you fell into the lake.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Would you have let me?”
You nodded.
“You would have?!”
“I bought the Kirby bonnet for you,” you confessed.
“What?”
“I know how much you like playing Mario Kart with Sam. I thought you’d like it. I thought maybe it’d make you like me.”
He scoffed. “Are you kidding? By that point, I was already in lo—I mean, I, uh. I really do love Mario Kart, you’re right.”
“Nice save.”
“Let me take you out on a proper date.”
“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“Has to be somewhere warm.”
You shared a laugh.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked.
Want to read more of my writing? Check out my ongoing Stucky x Reader series.
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y2kuromi · 1 month
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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader
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࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !
contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue
summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone
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yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.
his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.
there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.
his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory
“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.
“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.
classic gojo-sensei.
“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.
gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”
yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation
"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"
"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”
“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together
“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.
“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"
"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"
"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"
"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"
"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.
"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.
"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"
"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"
you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.
"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"
"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.
"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"
"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"
"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"
"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"
"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.
"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”
"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”
“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully
“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”
you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end
"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"
"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you
“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you
"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”
“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space
“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”
“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”
“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”
“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”
he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.
"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer
"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions
 “i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"
"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"
it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down
"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved
you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.
he couldn’t help but feel out of place.
there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.
the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.
the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.
he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly
he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )
“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder
“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”
yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )
“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.
he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.
“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”
yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind
“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.
“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”
“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”
“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”
no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently
“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be
“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”
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yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.
“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”
you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted
growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him
“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”
“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head
“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”
you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.
“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”
“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually
“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”
“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger
“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”
“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.
“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”
“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”
“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”
“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”
“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”
“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.
he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles
“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”
“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”
“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”
satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor
“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”
your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes
“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”
you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.
“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”
“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”
“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”
“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”
“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”
he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.
“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.
“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”
“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”
“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.
satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself
it would be you before everything. it was you before everything
“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory
they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again
“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.
“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”
“like we did in our first year”
satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone
his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.
“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.
“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.
“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”
“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”
“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”
“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him
“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”
“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed
satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin
your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.
yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.
here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.
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© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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nonranghaes · 25 days
Text
heads up! food mentions. also reader doesn't like eating oranges.
"channie?" oh no. you only called chris 'channie' whenever you were about to tease him over something or when you wanted something silly. "would you peel an orange for me?"
he looks up from his laptop, chin resting in his hand as he wonders what you're getting at. he would, but... he knows you. "you don't like oranges."
"i like orange juice!" you pout. "channie... that's not the point."
he fights back a smile--how cute. you're always so cute. "are you hungry?" he closes his laptop, rolling his chair away from his desk and to where you've curled up on the little loveseat in the home office the two of you decorated together--opposite the wall from your own desk. "is that why you're asking?"
you only pout more at him. "you didn't answer the question."
"i'll cut up a peach for you," he says. "or peel some boiled eggs."
and, oh, the cute way you lit up. "you would?"
he finally lets himself crack up with giggles, reaching out to pinch your cheeks, "i've literally done it for you before!"
you end up giggling, too, hands reaching up to bat at his own. "for what it's worth," you say, holding his hands in yours. "i'd peel boiled eggs for you, too... and an orange, if you wanted one."
and maybe he'll hold you to that one day, just to tease you before stealing as many kisses as you'll let him have.
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kaciebello · 3 months
Text
Band-aids of death
Masterlist
Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)
Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic)
Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten
Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n
author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :(
word count: 1347
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Percy has been in at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seems like he's good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.
Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway. After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.
Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. however, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.
They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.
Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.
“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own. “ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw. “ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 
“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues, “Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”
“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is. “ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders. “ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”
“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”
“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen. “ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 
“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids. “ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 
“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl. “ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.
“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks. “ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 
“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.” “ Australia?” “No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 
“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him. “You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,
 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.
“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.
He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
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A Series of Firsts
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.
First Kick
“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.
“Beige?”
“Boring.”
“Red?”
“Too much.”
“Red and blue?”
“That’s too… spidey.”
You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”
“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.
“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.
“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.
Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.
As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.
Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”
You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.
He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.
It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.
He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”
You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”
First Time Meeting
Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.
“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.
Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.
She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.
“Remind again me why we let him choose.”
“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”
“Right.”
Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.
You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.
“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”
He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”
Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.
That was definitely a sight to behold.
First Sleepless Night
“We’re not having another baby.”
“Agreed.”
“Ever.”
Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”
The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.
Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.
As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”
You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”
Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.
You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.
“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”
“Maybe one more?”
You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.
“… or not.”
First Scare
You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.
“This is a bit too much, no?”
Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.
“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.
It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.
“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.
“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”
Ever the scientist.
His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.
“What?”
“She’s gone!”
Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.
“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.
Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.
“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.
“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.
But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”
Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.
“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”
The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”
First Word
“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”
“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.
Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.
“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”
He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”
In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.
You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.
Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.
“I’m sorry.”
Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.
Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”
It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.
First Steps
You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.
So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.
He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.
You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.
Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”
You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.
Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.
Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.
Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.
Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.
Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”
Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.
She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.
But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.
This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter
Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.
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eiightysixbaby · 6 months
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i love it loud
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word count: 6.5k+
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…
cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.
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You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.
You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.
You’re dressed as a cat.
It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.
You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.
“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.
“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.
“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.
“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.
“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”
“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.
She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.
“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”
“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.
He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.
“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.
“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.
“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.
“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.
“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.
“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.
You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.
You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.
You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.
You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.
“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.
“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.
The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.
And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.
“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.
“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.
Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.
The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.
You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.
As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.
“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.
“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.
He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.
“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.
“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.
“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.
He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.
You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.
You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.
“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.
You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.
“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.
You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.
“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”
“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.
You nod, smiling at him now.
“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.
There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.
You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.
“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.
“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.
“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.
“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.
There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.
“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”
“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.
“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”
You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”
“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.
“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.
Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.
You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.
You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.
You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.
“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.
The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.
You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.
Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.
You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.
You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.
You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.
“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.
To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.
You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.
You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.
“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.
“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.
Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.
He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.
You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.
You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”
The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.
His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.
Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.
Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.
“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.
“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.
“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.
“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.
Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.
The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.
You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.
“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.
He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.
Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.
“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.
“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.
All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.
You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.
“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.
You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.
“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.
You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.
He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.
He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.
He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.
“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.
He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.
“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.
“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.
His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.
You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.
“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.
You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.
He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.
“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.
“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.
“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.
“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.
“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.
He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.
“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.
“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.
Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.
“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.
He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”
He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.
He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.
“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.
He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.
“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”
And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.
“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.
“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.
He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”
You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.
He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.
“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.
All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.
Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.
You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.
“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.
“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.
“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.
“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.
When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.
You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.
Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.
“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.
You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.
“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.
“Shut up, rockstar.”
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nezuscribe · 1 year
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𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊
summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us
word count: 16k+
warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions
note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust 
also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting​ for beta-reading again, love her!
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You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse. 
Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time. 
The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside. 
A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards. 
You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory. 
The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out. 
Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around. 
Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.
Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.  
“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…” 
You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices. 
“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more. 
You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.
“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you. 
“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor. 
“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.
“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too. 
“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.  
Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out. 
You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor. 
You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-
CRUNCH.
You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you. 
“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store. 
“I don’t know…wait here…”
You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.
It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears. 
You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones. 
Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.
He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you. 
Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life. 
There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process. 
“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features. 
“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected. 
Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before. 
“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.” 
The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers. 
“She seems fine-” 
“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human. 
“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten. 
“See…?” 
You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do. 
“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.” 
But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.
“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it. 
“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.
“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”
“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.
“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.
He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger. 
“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”
“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing. 
“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.” 
He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake. 
You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.
But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features. 
“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”
He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory. 
“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer. 
You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north. 
“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?” 
He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.
“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?” 
You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink. 
“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”
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You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one. 
They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could. 
It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.
“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.
“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.
Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation. 
“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.
You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you. 
“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion, 
You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.
“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”
She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.
“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject. 
You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat. 
“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”
“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up. 
“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”
“So you like being part of a group?” 
“Yeah-”
“Did it ever get lonely?”
“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.” 
Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings. 
You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes. 
Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.
Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now. 
You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth. 
The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.
“Everything alright?”
Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response. 
As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him. 
“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. 
Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning. 
“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks. 
You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.
There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.
“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight. 
“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”
“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.
“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound. 
“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”
You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground. 
“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.” 
And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.
But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now. 
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You hated that time between day and night more than anything. 
When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it. 
The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby. 
Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.
“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama. 
He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.
“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing. 
“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.” 
About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much. 
“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.
“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.
“So you all grew up together?” 
“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.” 
You almost wanted to laugh at the thought. 
“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.” 
“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did. 
“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach. 
“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?” 
She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit. 
“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body. 
Emi?
You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.
“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?” 
You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do. 
So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before. 
You wondered why she tried to hide it.
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That night you couldn’t sleep. 
You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being. 
The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.
After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.
You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind. 
Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything. 
Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers. 
“Why’re you up?” 
You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.
“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind. 
“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you. 
“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up. 
You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit. 
“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response. 
“Insomnia or bad dreams?” 
You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. 
“You would have made a spectacular doctor.” 
He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around. 
“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more. 
A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him. 
You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything. 
You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile. 
“Tell me something about yourself then.” 
A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement. 
“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to. 
“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.” 
A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky. 
But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time. 
“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.” 
You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand. 
“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.
“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.” 
He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought. 
“Is that good enough for you?”
He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away. 
“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?” 
“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back. 
“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”  
“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself. 
“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet. 
“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time. 
“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?” 
For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.
“I was in a lecture hall.” 
“For your doctor lectures?” 
He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze. 
“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”
“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.” 
You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.
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A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.
While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did. 
Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.
“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment. 
“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh. 
“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.
“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.
“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment. 
“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was. 
She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.
“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.
“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…” 
When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad. 
“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?” 
You almost laughed. How could you forget?
“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons. 
“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”
Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.
“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.
“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.
“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,”  She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.
“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.
“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”
“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry. 
You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone. 
What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.
If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with. 
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“What’d she tell you?” 
Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see. 
There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake. 
“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa. 
“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”
Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame. 
“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue.  If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off. 
He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up. 
“Green.” 
You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh. 
“What?” 
“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh. 
“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.
“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason. 
“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being. 
“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring. 
“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it. 
“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed. 
“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.
“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.” You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know. 
“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.
“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle. 
“Everybody’s scared-” 
“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”
“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. 
He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek. 
“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. 
“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”
He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back. 
“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath. 
“Where?”
“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up. 
You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer. 
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Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto. 
Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side. 
“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate. 
“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink. 
“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama. 
“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself. 
“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents. 
“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”
He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound. 
Clicking. Groaning. 
“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared. 
“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words. 
But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount. 
“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.
“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered. 
“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”
“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”
“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn. 
“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move.��
“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected. 
You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams. 
“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.” 
He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time. 
He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.
“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.
“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away. 
You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened. 
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A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night. 
It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.
The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.  
It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were. 
You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.
You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare. 
“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table. 
Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing. 
You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him. 
Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them. 
You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 
“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.
He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look. 
“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?” 
You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat. 
“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”
“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.” 
“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf. 
“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him. 
“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”
“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed. 
You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer. 
“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.
“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground. 
Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates. 
You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.
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Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later. 
It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that. 
You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly. 
You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do. 
From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched. 
You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around. 
As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book. 
“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place. 
You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way. 
“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.” 
Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself. 
“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for. 
His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly. 
“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.
“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over. 
“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-” 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement. 
You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say. 
“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-” 
“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment. 
“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else. 
“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it. 
“‘Toru?” 
His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t. 
“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it. 
His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance. 
“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.
“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile. 
He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his. 
It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment. 
He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory. 
He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you. 
Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.
“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,” He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so. 
“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss. 
“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin. 
“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him. 
But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan. 
“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands. 
He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has. 
“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.
“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.
“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling. 
“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace. 
But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it. 
“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch. 
You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay. 
“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls. 
“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.
“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped. 
It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name. 
He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. 
“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot. 
But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain. 
“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.
“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”
“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.” 
Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do. 
He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him. 
“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it. 
“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned. 
“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, “I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.” 
You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it. 
“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance. 
“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs. 
When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it. 
His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake. 
He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through. 
“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity. 
“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.
You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.
“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.” 
“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you. 
“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered. 
His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it. 
“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions. 
“Umph, ‘Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat. 
“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.
You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss. 
“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him. 
“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.
The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses. 
It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything. 
You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.
“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit. 
“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened. 
He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender. 
You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy. 
There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers. 
“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received. 
“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features. 
“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. 
He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go. 
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futureplayboibunnie · 9 months
Text
Aphrodesiacs PT. 5
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider….what could possibly happen?
bro i hit 600 followers three days ago and now i’m at 1,000? wtf thats insane i love u.
NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+
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It was months since you saw Miguel.
Well, thats what it felt like. In reality it was just 3 days.
Honesty was never a big deal with you, but when you promised Miguel you’d kill him the next time you saw him: you felt it in every cell to be true. It was delusion kicking into mass hysteria at this point. What was startling though and quite frankly alarming was that Miguel believed you.
You were akin to that of a bloodied and mauled rabid dog when he saw you last, he had never seen your face look so ashen and convincing. Normally, when you were away from him, your cheeks were stained pink as you enertained whoever you were talking to, you were happy. He was taking that away from you and he was beginning to feel slivers of guilt make home in his chest. So he did what he had to.
You were stood looking like an idiot in your apartment, fiddling with your interdimentional watch, slapping it and messing about with it to the point you were sure you were breaking it further. That was until a blaring orange screen showed up: Access Denied. You ogled at the glitchy words like a shell shocked fool, that look soon dissipated into an indignant frown. Miguel…again. Of course.
You threw the object closest to you at the wall, a large gaping crack left in the wall due to sheer force of your poisonous indifference. You sighed heavily as a disgruntled sound fell from your throat. That dick was cutting you off entirely, your needed to get back in the lab, all of the materials you lacked here were there.
You didn’t learn your lesson.
You wanted to see him.
You said you’d kill him if you did and right now you were contemplating it.
But he put his foot down and pushed you out, forcing you away which was counterproductive as it made you want to see him more. You groaned in frustration: what the fuck is wrong with you? It was like you were all for yet going against every intuition and feeling in your body, you wanted one thing and felt another and all it did was leave you bewildered mess in heat.
How could you contact him?
No, you definitely shouldn’t.
You’d just cause more problems relating to this.
But you needed answers.
Fuck.
An embittered look crept on your face as your finger hovered over the button that called Lyla. If you couldn’t contact Miguel…you’d just use Lyla and your incredible convincing skills. You pressed it and she popped up looking happy and over her head as usual.
“If this is about your restriction-“ She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.
“Well yes. I need to talk to Miguel about it.” You winced, not entirely believing yourself and she just raised an eyebrow at you.
“Hm.” She muttered under her breath. “You’ve definitely talked enough recently.”
“Look. I know Miguel told you he didn’t want to see me at all and I get it, hell, I’m trying to get through it too. But he needs to answer some questions I have a right to know.” You raked a hand over your exhaused face and breathed out heavily as you met her look. “I just need to speak to him, I don’t need to see him. Fuck, I don’t want to see him because I’d kick his teeth in. Maybe just give me his phone number or something?” You cringed internally as you said it. No one was close with Miguel let alone had his phone number, Lyla looked like she saw a ghost.
“Like as in calling him? On the phone? Old fashioned? God, humans are so strange. All this tech and you want to call him on the…phone?” The mention of something so menial such as a phone made Lyla retch back in digust and all you could do is look at her unimpressed at her overreaction. “I mean I guess you aren’t actually near each other…and I love scaring Miguel shitless so…yeah okay.”’ She brightened up at the idea or irritating Miguel, she showed an orange screen of a smattering of numbers. Your face cleared of cloudiness as she showed it on screen. “Be quickkkkk. I’m leaving in 10 seconds.” She giggled. You haphazardly lunged to your desk to find a sticky note to write the numbers on, you almosr fell to the goddamn floor.
“5, 4, 3…” Lyla taunted and you finally grabbed a pen and wrote the numbers down on a note.
“Good. Now go away.” You mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re just like Miguel.” She then disappeared to where she came from. You pondered the words she left ungracefully hanging in the air, the thought made you shiver grotesquely.
You clutched onto the sticky note with those fated numbers on it and you honestly felt like a teenager who finally got her crushes number. Pacing around the room seemed like a great option. Your feet went wild, staring into space then back at the numbers. Okay, okay. Just call him. Give him a piece of your mind. Self soothing didn’t work. Just do it, just call him. This is a healthy way of communicating since you couldn’t just show up and speak to him. Adrenaline and fear pumped your veins raw as you put his number into your phone. You raised your phone to your ear and heard the defeaning and soul eating dial.
-
Miguel was at home for once, just trying to occupy himself in an environment that didn’t have eyes poring all over him and every move he made. He was trying to get some sleep after all the agitation you put him through, but he was failing terribly, again.
It felt like having you was the only thing he was put on this Earth for. His bare chest tightened at the thought. All that was sketched onto in his peripheral was that fucking picture. You looked like a wet dream. Fuck, you were just perfect. Your pussy was begging to be pounded and he couldn’t wait until-
His phone lit up the black of his nightstand.
Miguel opened his eyes as he saw the screen brighten and the blaring of a ringtone he’s long forgotten. He was astonished even though his eyes were seeped in tiredness. This was so odd. He barely ever used his phone, even for hookups, he’d fuck them and then ditch the number. Miguel stared at the white of the screen and the black outside, only lit by a few orange streetlamps that seemed to creep in through his blinds. He groaned as he grabbed his phone and stared at it, it was an unknown number, is this was a cold caller he would rip their head off with his teeth and spit it out into a gutter.
Miguel rubbed his eyes and answered, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He said in a strained, raspy voice- it wasn’t quite obvious that he was trying to sleep.
You felt yourself gush when you heard his voice, your mouth popped open into a gape, you winced but kept a normal voice. “Miguel?”
His eyes glazed open wide as he heard your voice, what the fuck? How did you get his number? Why were you doing this? A wild amount of questions shot through his head but he was confused and didn’t know how to handle it, the majority of him was exhausted and seething. He leaned up and spoke. “Y/N?” He attempted to sound calm but he wasn’t convincing. “How did you find-? Whatever. Don’t call me. Ever. Again.” He gritted through clenched teeth.
“Lyla.” You said in a clipped tone.
Of fucking course.
“Stop using your damn power to fawn over me and restrict me from using the damn watch you gave me.” You were chafed you even had to say this.
Miguel sat on the edge of his bed and plaved his feet on the cold marble, his elbows dug into the skin of his thighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out the signature annoyed huff. “You know exactly why I had to do that.”
You paused and bit your lip, pacing around your room, reminding yourself that you’re barely even clothed right now. Your tank top and sleep shorts barely covered anything and you were still feeling searing hot by his voice alone.
“Stop… Just stop.” It was just above a whimper and Miguel’s ears pricked up the sound. Fuck, your voice was like velvet. “Miguel…we were honest with each other once before. We can do it again.” You breathed against the phone and it was taking everything in him to not moan at the pretty sound. “We shouldn’t be close to each other. I fucking know but…are you shutting me out of the society completely?” Your lip quivered at the mere idea.
Miguel was taken aback. He really didn’t know what to say or do about this now. Being honest or lying didn’t seem to do him any favours at this point. “Don’t ask me that. Please…just don’t.” His voice was so close to breaking but he was dampened by such a pure need for you it was distracting as fucking always.
You both sat in silence, hearing each other’s soft sweet breath on the line. Waiting for the other to break such a tense yet natural thing. Miguel could hear you lick your lips, every shift of that tongue and pretty mouth.
“Do you still want me?” You said flatly, so damn nonchalant like you weren’t even realising what you were talking about.
Miguel was left speechless for a solid 60 seconds. Are you dumb? He wanted just leave and kick your door down, rip all your clothes off and not let you leave for an entire weekend. He would mark every inch of your skin up to show everyone who you belonged to, he wouldn’t be soft at all and you would fucking love it. He’d pump you full of his cum.
“That’s a very stupid question.” He grunted huskily. His talons dug into the sides of his mattress as he said it. You heard the way he was holding back and it made you that much more desperate.
“You told me that it was manageable. How are you managing Miguel?” It was like you were taunting him, waiting for a big fat massive ‘I told you so.’
“I’m finding my own ways of coping.” He stipulated, fingers trembling into the mattress at your words. His dick was rock hard in his boxers at just hearing you breathe against the phone. He felt pre-cum leak from his tip.
“Hm. Like just so happening to know that I take nudes of myself and send them to my fuckbuddies.” You hummed, catching him out with that teasing cock stimulating voice of yours. Miguel swallowed thickly as you called him out.
“It’s 2099 here. Fuckbuddies aren’t taboo, sending nudes isn’t either.” He didn’t directly answer the question, he wrapped it up in a lie that it was normal and he just guessed that you did not that he literally violated your privacy.
“Then why do you not want me to send them anymore.” You whispered on the phone and the sensation of hearing such a honeyed voice made him shudder. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, exasperated but voice calm.
“Because it should be me seeing you like that. Only me.” He avowed in an unexpected admission. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard it, exactly what he wanted to hear. You paused and your silence scared him.
“Did you like it?” You asked sweetly and he thought he could’ve came right then and there. He could just…slip his hand down and touch himself as you talked. God, he could. He wanted to so bad.
“You have no idea.” He rasped out and you tried to gulp down your arousal, instead it arose out in words.
“Miguel, I get wet just listening to you talk.” You said softly, not even ashamed anymore.
“Whenever you say my name I think my dick wants to snap in half.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this then.” He could feel you smiling lazily, your tone deceptive and teasing. You didn’t want to stop at all.
“Yeah we really shouldn’t.” Miguel teased back, his voice low and inherently dishonest.
“I won’t call you again then.” You smiled sweetly, eyes half lidded and flirty. “Let’s just say that this was… a little moment of weakness between us. We can go back to avoiding each other later.”
“I wonder how we’ll manage.”
“You better get rid of my restriction on my watch too.”
-
yoooo. I’m not gonna be able to post anything in the next week bc I’m on holiday and I probs won’t have wifi. I’m still writing chapters I just dk when I’m gonna be able to post it. I know i edge yall but this specifically isn’t on purpose I swear forgive meeee.
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taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a
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perlelune · 5 months
Text
Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | i.
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One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.
Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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Bitterness burns in your gut as you watch the yellowed pages of one of your favorite books curl and blacken amidst the weak flames of the hearth.
You want to cry. You really do. But it wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last. The winters of District 8 are infamously harsh and long.
You wouldn’t have survived it. So you stare with dry eyes and an empty chest as your childhood memorabilia turns to ash.
A wheezy cough tears through your melancholy. Panic rips through you as you get up and whirl. You dash to a small bed across the room and hunker down near your cousin.
You hold her hand, despising how tiny and feeble it feels in yours. 
It wasn’t always like this. She used to drag you around the cabin, eager to play, her high-pitched laugh bouncing off its molded walls.
Tears you managed to quell before now rush to your eyes.
You cup her face. Sickness has drained the color from it.
“You’re gonna get better, I swear.”
She gives a weary smile, but it’s interrupted by another fit of wet coughs that makes her entire frail frame shake. Your stomach plummets at the sight. Even you struggle to believe the words that crossed your own lips.
Everyday your younger cousin seems worse off than the one before it. Her medicine has long since run out. So has the food. Your modest wages from working in the factory won’t come for another fortnight. And there are little to no wares left to trade in the rickety wooden cabin. 
Nothing except you. 
The mere thought sends a shudder through you.
Though the virtue of some lowly district 8’s guttersnipe isn’t worth much, you bet you could easily find a buyer. A warm body is as good as any after all. Besides, you haven’t missed the lascivious glares wandering your way sometimes when you hasten through the streets of the city at night. 
You shake your head.
No.
While your virtue isn’t worth much in this awful world, you will hold on to it for as long as you can. Some modicum of dignity. Maybe it’s too much to ask for someone like you, too…greedy. But it’s the one thing you get in this life. Your one gift. You belong to yourself and no one else.
“Hungry…” your cousin whispers between pained exhales. The orange glow from the chimney outlines the sickly grayness of her skin and the sweat dotting her forehead.
You squeeze her hand, rubbing her fingers against yours. Maybe some of your warmth will seep into her. You can only hope.
“I know, Tilly… but there isn’t any food left anymore.”
At the mention of food, your shriveled up stomach reminds you of its unfortunate existence. Hunger twists your insides, vicious and relentless. As always.
Determination sparks inside you, tiny embers shifting into a furnace of iron hot will.
You rise to your feet. 
Tilly will not die. You will not die.
You plant a soft kiss on her forehead. Her eyes flutter closed as she drifts away, her glassy gaze finding the cracks and webs scattered across the ceiling.
She seems to look at nothing at all. It worries you. Tilly’s all you have left, the rest of your family having succumbed to disease, failed uprisings or some accident at the factory.
“I promise to bring food, and something to cure your cold.”
A cold. 
Another lie. For her or for you… who knows this time. Deep inside, you’re aware no common cold lasts this long or is this nasty. 
But you cling to the lie. Because you need it. Because without it you have nothing. 
Nothing to wake up for, nothing to go work another unending, grueling day at the textile factory, nothing to suffer another day in the hell that District 8 is. 
A few minutes later, you’re at the door. 
Outside, the winter winds swaddle you in their cool embrace. White clouds surround you as you unleash a deep breath. Through the thin soles of your shoes, you can feel the icy stones with each step. You slither through the narrow alleys, hood low on your brow as you ponder the plan you hatched less than an hour ago. 
It’s beyond stupid. You could get thrown in jail if caught. Or worse. 
But what else is there to do? 
You’re past the age to sign up for tesserae, and you’d never subject your cousin to the disturbing possibility of being chosen in the next reaping just to fill your stomach. 
You finally reach the grand marketplace. It’s crowded with folks, like every morning. You remain hidden by a brick wall, a strategic spot where shadows engulf you, where you can survey the place as you wish. The perfect way to begin enacting your stupid plan. 
Anticipation has your fingertips twitching against the stones.
You note how easy it’d be to mingle with the crowd, how some of the merchants don’t keep a perpetual eye on their wares.
And most importantly, you note the lack of peacekeepers. You squint, seeking a glimpse of the terrifying blue uniforms. Disbelief flutters through you at the realization none of them is here.
Such a chance never presents itself…yet it’s prancing right before you today. 
As your eyes land on a luscious spread of colorful fruits sitting on a stand a few feet away, your mouth waters.
How easy it would be.
When’s the last time you ate anything solid? You can hardly recall.
Slow, ginger steps drag you right before the stand. Busy chatting with a customer, the merchant doesn’t see you. 
Hope blooms inside you. This is your shot. You just need to be quick, so quick he won’t even notice before you’re long gone.
Your tremulous hand creeps out of your coat. The uproarious drumming of your heart fills your ears, louder as your fingers get closer to the tantalizing skin of the fruit.
Just a few inches. 
“What are you doing, little bird?” 
Startled, you release a sharp breath. Long, pale fingers cinch around your wrist, causing you to drop the fruit. It hits the wet cobblestones with a soft thud, sending your hopes crashing down alongside it.
You whirl to the stranger beside you.
“You little thieving whore…”
Numb with fear and shock, the merchant’s irate curses dwindle to a faint echo. 
The stranger’s towering frame forces you to lift your gaze to the sky, and you are met with eyes bluer than its expanse. 
Lost in his unsettling stare, you take entirely too long to notice his uniform. The gear is unmistakable. You have threaded your fair share of the fabric over the years, sewn hundreds of uniforms just like the one before you.
A peacekeeper. 
A wave of snow ripples through your back. 
Your entire body turns to stone in his grip, your eyes as wide as plates.
This is exactly what you feared would happen. And now it has.
As stormy irises take you in, you see your miserable life melt in a smoldering sea of blue.
Run.
It’s the only thought in your head as you jerk your hand away from his fingers.
Your body leaps into action, adrenaline pumping through your veins. White puffs of your short breaths flow around you as you dive into the nearest dark alley, hoping to disappear through a drain hole and lose your pursuer. 
But you don’t get far. 
Only a few minutes into your panicked race, the hard sole of a boot connects with the back of your knee. A shriek of pain tears from your throat as you tumble to the floor. 
Wincing, you lift your head.
The tall, lanky figure of the peacekeeper looms over you. Your chest seizes. He holds up the bright red fruit you tried to steal in his right hand. Sunlight limns his frame, threading silver in his white hair, making him appear almost angelic.
How deceptive when he is your doom.
If it weren't for him, you’re convinced you’d have gotten away with it. 
“Hey, I think you forgot this,” he deadpans.
Your brows knit at his casual tone. You wonder if he’s toying with you.
“Please, I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Mirth illuminates his cerulean gaze as he scoffs, “So you meant to pay?”
Unsure what to respond, you choke on your words.
“I…”
Silence expands, its oppressive weight clogging your airways. 
You could lie, or try to. But he saw you, stopped you. He knows exactly what you attempted to do.
So instead of stating your case, you bolt to your feet. Ignoring the needles pricking at your knee where he kicked you, you attempt to flee again.
This time it’s barely seconds before he catches you.
He picks you up and slams you against the wall with frightening ease. Fighting him would be for naught. There is no strength left in you. Still, you try.
The pitiful attempts to claw at his bicep leave the peacekeeper unfazed.
His deathly grip on your neck doesn’t relent.
“Where do you think you’re going, birdie?”
“Please, my cousin needs me.”
He studies you and your stomach sinks at how empty his eyes are. An errant tear makes a slow descent down your cheek.
He plucks it, the soft pad of his finger tracing the salty trail.
“Stop crying. I’m not like them. You can trust me.”
“You’re a peacekeeper,” you retaliate, forehead creased in confusion. Peacekeepers exist to enact the Capitol’s will by any means necessary. Their name couldn’t be more misleading, as peace is rarely how they go about solving an issue. 
The blond’s cheek flares ever-so-slightly.
To your utter shock, his hold on your neck slackens.
You gulp a wide lungful of air, rubbing your throat where he held so tight. It’s sore. You wouldn’t be surprised if it were to bruise the next day. 
“My name’s Coriolanus. What’s yours?”
While he backs away, he’s still crowding your space in a way you don’t like. 
Stubborn lips remaining sealed, you glare at him. He steps away from you.
“You don’t want to say?” The corner of his plump lips twists upwards. “I’ll keep calling you bird then, since you keep trying to fly away from me.”
You gasp when he suddenly tosses the crimson fruit in your hands.
“Eat.”
His steely inflection is more order than suggestion. You scowl down at the fruit. Every cell in your body longs to take a bite of it…but you don’t.
“What?” you reply dumbly.
It has to be some kind of trap. Is the apple even safe to eat? Maybe this peacekeeper is the sadistic type and he wants to watch you wither in agony for his sick pleasure.
Still, the longer you peer at the luscious, colorful flesh of the fruit, the more your stomach growls, begging you to just take a bite even if it means running headlong towards your possible death.
Coriolanus heaves out a deep sigh.
“I can tell from the way you were eying that apple earlier that it’s been a long time, right?” he guesses, all too accurately for your liking.
His gaze holds yours.
“I know what it’s like to be hungry, sweet bird…” You go statue-still as he bends over to whisper in your ear, “So hungry, you’d do anything for it to stop.”
The faint scent of roses tickles your nose. You smelt it once before, on a lavish dress you spent hours sewing meant for one of the fancy ladies at the Capitol. You recall shoving the tiniest piece of the silk in your pocket and smelling it every chance you got. But the nice scent quickly faded.
Yet that same scent, that crisp, delicate, slightly dizzying aroma…It clings to the boy in front of you.
You glower at him.
“How would you even know? You’re one of them.”
His jaw ticks as his eyes flicker.
“Eat,” he insists, this time more firmly.
Your insides wrench. You could fight him on it, again. But you have an inkling that this boy, this Coriolanus, usually gets his way.
So you bite into the apple. 
The sweet juice that coats your tongue and chin afterwards is heaven. The savors explode in your mouth. You could weep. It’s been an eternity since you ate something this fresh and delicious.
But once you realize his curious stare is on you, you stop eating and hastily wipe your mouth and chin. 
“See? Isn’t it better?” he inquires smugly.
You don’t tell him how good it felt, especially after so long. Days, maybe weeks. You don’t know anymore. Every day tends to blend into the other here.
Instead, heated words pour out of you.
“Why are you helping me?”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
You don’t like his cryptic demeanor. Nor his nice smell. Nor his striking eyes. Nor his sharp, handsome features.
Everything about Coriolanus seems so out of place in District 8.
After a few minutes of silence, he nods and walks away.
“See you around, sweet bird.”
A shiver travels along your spine.
You wish for the opposite, to never ever see him again. And though the words never escape the confine of your lips, it’s as if he could hear the unspoken venom sizzling the tip of your tongue.
Coriolanus smiles at you as he leaves.
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ddarker-dreams · 18 days
Text
Worthy Motivator.
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Blade x Reader.
Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.
Author notes are at the end of the story!
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Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin. 
While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.
Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow. 
If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.
While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone. 
Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat. 
“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…” 
You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line. 
You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it. 
His eyes sear through your being. 
“You’re going to Illij.” 
You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking. 
With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.” 
Ah. 
A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind. 
“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.” 
You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words. 
Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.” 
He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you. 
“Permission, huh?” 
The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness. 
Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.” 
Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm. 
He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling. 
It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion. 
Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth. 
“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?” 
It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit: 
“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”
Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate. 
“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!” 
Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean. 
“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.” 
His response is immediate. “I can’t.”
“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter. 
“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’” 
Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering. 
His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.” 
You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut. 
Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger? 
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A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:
reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.
as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.
ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.
illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.
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