#maybe you can’t prove it’s not just mine but OTHER peoples weakness as well
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You've Got Email (König x OC: Medical Student!Snow) PART III
Summary: When the Colonel from some Private Military Corporation group accidentally send KorTac's secret file via email to a random civilian girl and now they develop some weird relationship.
or
Snow now overthinking about how fucked up her situation can be
TWs: Slow burn (not really), Implies stalking behavior. I just wrote this for fun.
Words Count: 1.9k (The email contain 1.3+ words while the rest was Snow's 4Chan post)
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From: [email protected]
To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/13/23 at 01:38 am
Subject: A late night conspiracy ramble…
Hey!
Once again it’s a late night and these weary med student brain cells are firing off all kinds of…interesting theories and connections, to say the least.
For example, okay hear me out, but what if Big Pharma is actually run by ancient shape-shifting lizard people from the center of the hollow earth who feed on human adrenal gland fluid harvested during rituals conducted at Bohemian Grove, and they started the pharmaceutical industry just to get us all addicted to medication so we’re docile little cash cows?!
I know, I know, it’s utterly ridiculous…buuuuut it would explain a few things haha! Anyways, somehow my winding thought process led me back to pondering your own doubtless intriguing backstory, oh mysterious Colonel.
You’ve given mysterious snippets here and there, but never a straight history lesson, you sly dog. Care to unravel some of those shadows for this thirsty student? Like how’d you get into this line of work anyway?
Maybe share something to take my mind off lizard people conspiracies before this insomnia kills me. You’ve got me curious now!
Conspiracizing but also bedridden,
Snow
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From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/13/23 at 02:01 am
Subject: RE: A late night conspiracy ramble…
You’ve a vivid imagination, to be sure. As for my own history…it’s nothing so fanciful, I’m afraid.
I grew up isolated, with only books as company. Social skills proved…challenging. The bullying was constant. All I wanted was to disappear into the quiet of nature, far from the incessant noise inside my head.
By 17 I was desperate to escape, and the military offered just that. I dreamed of being a sniper – controlling chaos from afar through calm precision. But my frame and restlessness didn’t suit remaining still for long. They saw potential elsewhere. They assigned as an insertion specialist instead. It was difficult, but taught discipline. In time I learned to turn noise into focus, chaos into strategy.
Now I protect others as I wished to be protected then. It brings…solace, of a kind. Purpose, where once was only turmoil.
Get some rest, Snow. Sweet dreams.
König
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From: [email protected]
To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/13/23 at 02:14 am
Subject: RE: RE: A late night conspiracy ramble…
I see.
Thank you for sharing that with me. I can’t imagine how difficult those experiences must have been, but I’m grateful you found your calling in spite of them. It takes real strength of character to turn trauma into purpose like that.
Also, I should say the bullying says far more about their weakness of spirit than anything about you. Their loss, as it brought you to where you’re meant to be – helping people in your own way. I can’t help but smile thinking of a tiny bookworm König dreaming of sniping lizards in the woods! Well, you may not be in the trees anymore but it seems your aim is truer than ever.
Thinking on childhoods, mine wasn’t all sunshine either as an awkward kid. Let’s just say blending in was…challenging, to put it lightly. Between moving a lot after my parents split and living with various relatives, school was an escape into study. Seemed the safest route to gain some footing and make the family proud, at least. Kept me busy avoiding the realities outside books for a while too, I suppose. Somehow I suspect lonely bookworm me and you may have gotten along splendidly if our paths crossed back then!
Anyways, not sure where I’m going with this aside from reflecting our younger selves may have found solace in one another, strange as that sounds now in these roles. At least we’ve come into our own in the end, in our own ways. Small favors and all that.
Just a light note before sleep – rest well, König!
Your friend,
Snow
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From: [email protected]
To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/28/23 at 08:27 pm
Subject: Essay Woes and Cadaver Flashbacks
Ugh,
My apologies for this incoherent word vomit you’re about to endure. I’m approximately 5-7 days into an all-nighter essay crunch and my last two brain cells are DANCING.
This final assignment is killing me dead but at least after it’s over I can finally be done with med school! *insert jubilant celebration emoji* Of course that’s if I don’t starve to death first living off instant ramen. I’m positively wasting away without a decent meal. At this rate they’ll be teaching anatomy lectures using my lifeless body.
Whoever invents a magic food delivery service that beams freshly cooked meals directly to overworked students is getting a freaking Nobel Prize. A girl can dream, right? At this point I’d kill a man for a good pizza. *hideshypotheticalmurderweaponbehindback*
Anyways, in my spiral of delirium my thoughts keep wandering back to that fateful day months ago when I randomly received your classified KorTac email out of nowhere. Still bewildered how you even had my address to begin with…were you watching me, Colonel? *pretends to be frightened but is secretlyflattered*
Getting that file was kinda scary at first, not gonna lie. Reminded me of the first time we received our cadavers – that creepy feeling of being watched even after leaving the lab. Is that what it’s like being you, always paranoid someone has intel on you? :)
Anyways, enough gibbering – just wanted to share my pain and also wonder again how our wacky email friendship began! Stay safe out there in whatever shady places your work takes you. And send help – I mean, good luck with all the classified stuff!
Tired and Hangry,
Snow
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From: [email protected]
To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/28/23 at 08:40 pm
Subject: WHAT DID YOU DO
KÖNIG I SWEAR TO GOD
I LITERALLY JUST GOT A DELIVERY AT MY DOOR. IT WAS PIZZA AND IT WAS ALREADY PAID FOR
DUDE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T HACK INTO MY LOCATION OR SOME SHIT. HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE I LIVE??
I’M FREAKING OUT A LITTLE NOT GONNA LIE. I KNOW YOU HAVE ACCESS TO SHADY TECH BUT PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T TRACK ME DOWN
I was joking in my last email! Sort of! Please say this was all just a coincidence. I don’t need some extra secret stalker on top of everything else ;____;
Explain yourself soldier man!!! My paranoia can only be quelled with answers.
Sending mildly panicked regards,
Snow
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From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/28/23 at 09:12 pm
Subject: RE: WHAT DID YOU DO
Snow,
I assure you, any capabilities related to surveillance are reserved strictly for operations.
As for your delivery, consider it a small kindness from one overworked soul to another. Now eat, regain strength, and get back to that essay. You’ve proven quite resourceful in pulling secrets from shadows. But some mysteries deserve to remain.
Worry not and carry on with your studies.
König
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From: [email protected]
To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/28/23 at 09:25 pm
Subject: Spill. Everything. Now.
I appreciate the pizza bailout, don’t get me wrong. But my paranoia has now reached DEFCON 1 levels and it WILL NOT stand down until I get some answers. So spill. Just how much do you actually know about me? Do you have my address on file somewhere? Photos? Socials? Pet peeves? Middle name??
I understand need-to-know for operations, but this is need-to-know for my own peace of mind. Please assuage these frazzled med student nerves and assure me you’re not some mysterious stalker Colonel (unless that’s just part of your charm). I’ll even send new Luna's pics in return! Consider it a debriefing – you give, you get. Otherwise the wheels will keep spinning in my head…
Sincerely (and only mildly obsessively),
Snow
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>>Anonymous
05/29/23(Mon)22:37:10 No:132926391
Colonel Stalker Dude is freaking me out
Image: [Confused pepe scratching head.jpg 230kb, 400x400]
>Be me, a totally tired out and broke student
>Remember getting those shady files months ago
>Thought Colonel dude was cool and weird pen pal
>Even started to like him after long talks
>But NOW he knows my address???
>WTF how long has he been watching me
>On one hand it’s creepy AF but kinda flattering a high rank dude cares
>Other hand I don't want a secret stalker or to get disappeared
>Free food is nice but feeling stalked is not cash money
>Used to have bit of crush but now I'm skeeved TBH
>What do? Can't go to cops cuz questions. No close friends/fam
>Too broke to move or change info
>Maybe he’s just lonely but also maybe he climbs in my window ;____;
>What if he takes my organs in the night like some human harvester?!
>Only protection is my cat Luna and she's useless in a fight ;_;
>Try to be positive and asking him how much he know
>Currently waiting for his replied while I was writing this post
>Anons pls help, should I keep talking to possible stalker man?
Don’t want my organs harvested but also don’t wanna waste a free food connection
Very conflicted and slightly paranoid this girl is in DIRE need of advice
Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)22:45:19 No:132926405: >>132926391(OP)#
Sounds like a thriller romance novel lol! He probs just cares in his own intense way. Keep talking but be safe, maybe feel him out more? Could be nnothing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)23:16:08 No:132926439: >>132926405#
IKR it does sound like a book! But what if it’s a prequel to a snuff film?! I’ll try to subtly find out wtf he knows without pissing him off…
Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)23:37:12 No:132926502: >>132926391(OP)#
LOL girl chill no one climbin in ur windows. He prolly just admires ur spirit. Keep lines of comms open, set boundaries if needed but relax!
Anonymous 05/29/23(Mon)23:45:01 No:13292623: >>132926502#
You’re right, I do overthink! I’ll calm my farm. Thank u stranger, maybe he’s just a bored soldier man and not a psycho (´。＿。｀)
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)00:25:31 No:13292684: >>132926391(OP)#
Change ur info anyway, maybe he won’t go to ur new stuff. And get some locks/alarms jfc. Play it safe.
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)00:42:44 No:13292692: >>13292684#
Can’t change anything, I used my student email! And too broke for moves or upgrades, these loans gotta last :’( but self defense is a must, thanks!
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)01:28:19 No:132922735: >>132926391(OP)#
Send Luna pics. Also tell col u feel weird, set ground rules like no stalking. Maybe he just wants friendship. Be safe!
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)01:46:31 No:132922757: >>132922735#
[sleepy_Luna.jpg 1,3mb 1000x1000] You’re so right, communication is key. I’ll lay it all out clearly and see how it goes. Thx fren <3
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)01:59:36 No:132922805: >>132926391(OP)#
Maybe he liiiiikes you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) whatever happens keep us posted! We’re invested now lol
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)02:08:55 No:132922822: >>132922805#
omggg don't say that!! Now I'll be paranoid AND flustered X_X But I definitely will update y'all, this is quite the melodrama unfolding
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)02:15:36 No:132922811: >>132926391(OP)#
Girlll tell that stalker if he wants a piece he gonna have to pay your tuition first! Then maybe you’ll reconsider the organ harvesting. Gotta respect your worth sis 💅
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)02:23:12 No:132922834: >>132922811#
Omg you genius!!! If he’s really interested he can sponsor my broke ass med student life lol. Alleviate my debt and he gets unlimited Luna pics, win-win!
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)03:01:46 No:132922839: >>132926391(OP)#
Lmao girl you been reading too many thrillers! Military guys have ways of finding people, changing email won’t do shit. Just ask him wtf is up like a normal person
Anonymous 05/30/23(Tue)03:39:44 No:132922926: >>132922839#
Ugh you make a good point, confronting is smarter than hiding. But what if he locks me in a dungeon for being nosy?! I have no one to turn to if I disappear ;-;
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From: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/30/24 at 03:45am
Subject: RE: Spill. Everything. Now.
Snow,
Let’s just say I know more than you think. But rest assured, your privacy and safety remain my priority here.
As for debriefs, some questions are best left unanswered, even between…friends. Maintaining mystique has its place too, no?
Focus on your studies. I’ll focus on ensuring no more interruptions are needed.
Now get some rest. You’ve an early lab tomorrow if I’m not mistaken.
Sweet dreams.
König
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From: [email protected]
To: Colonel_Kö[email protected]
05/30/23 at 03:47am
Subject: DUDE.
HOW.
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This one was short because I've been busy with other stuff hahah. It sure took some twisted turn hmmM? or maybe poor Snow just over reacted ;)
Also love, comment and reblogged are really appreciate! 💖
#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig mw2#könig x oc#könig#cod oc#cod x oc#konig call of duty#cod fic#cod mw2
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BATMAN BEGINS (2005) SENTENCE STARTERS
❛ Finders keepers. ❜
❛ They are going to fight you. Until they kill you. ❜
❛ Can they kill me before breakfast? ❜
❛ How do you know my name? ❜
❛ Someone like you is only here by choice. ❜
❛ If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, then you become something else entirely. ❜
❛ To manipulate the fears in others you must first master your own. ❜
❛ Death does not wait for you to be ready! Death is not considerate or fair! And make no mistake, here you face death. ❜
❛ And why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up. ❜
❛ All creatures feel fear. ❜
❛ t's okay. Don't be afraid. ❜
❛ My anger outweighs my guilt. ❜
❛ Theatricality and deception are powerful agents. ❜
❛ I was forced to learn there are those without decency, who must be fought without hesitation, without pity. ❜
❛ Your anger gives you great power. But if you let it, it will destroy you. ❜
❛ I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do with your past. Just know that there are those of us who care about what you do with your future. ❜
❛ Haven't given up on me yet? ❜
❛ I don't suppose there's any way to convince you not to come. ❜
❛ Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could take back what I did. ❜
❛ You're not talking about justice. You're talking about revenge. ❜
❛ Justice is about harmony. Revenge is about you making yourself feel better. ❜
❛ Things are worse than ever here. ❜
❛ Your father would be ashamed of you. ❜
❛ I wouldn't have a second's hesitation of blowing your head off in front of them. ❜
❛ Now, that's power you can't buy. That's the power of fear. ❜
❛ I'm not afraid of you. ❜
❛ Don't come here with your anger, trying to prove something to yourself. ❜
❛ This is a world you'll never understand. And you always fear what you don't understand. ❜
❛ I lost many assumptions about the simple nature of right and wrong. ❜
❛ You fear your own power. You fear your anger...the drive to do great or terrible things. ❜
❛ To conquer fear, you must become fear. ❜
❛ Embrace your worst fear. Become one with the darkness. ❜
❛ Your compassion is a weakness your enemies will not share. ❜
❛ For your own sake, there is no turning back. ❜
❛ You've been gone a long time. ❜
❛ People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy. ❜
❛ As a man, I'm flesh and blood, I can be ignored, destroyed. But as a symbol....as a symbol, I can be incorruptible. I can be everlasting. ❜
❛ I couldn't figure the legal ramifications of bringing you back from the dead. ❜
❛ Hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine. ❜
❛ Maybe money isn't as interesting to me as favors. ❜
❛ I am more than aware that you are not intimidated by me. But you know who I'm working for, and when he gets here– ❜
❛ You're supposed to be dead. ❜
❛ This is where you belong. Welcome home. ❜
❛ Spelunking. Yeah, you know, cave diving? ❜
❛ I'm no rat. ❜
❛ In a town this bent, who's there to rat to anyway? ❜
❛ Well, what is it today? More spelunking? ❜
❛ If you don't want to tell me exactly what you're doing....when I'm asked, I don't have to lie. But don't think of me as an idiot. ❜
❛ Does it come in black? ❜
❛ In the meantime, may I suggest you try to avoid landing on your head? ❜
❛ It's time my enemies shared my dread. ❜
❛ Ignorance is bliss, my friend. Don't burden yourself with the secrets of scary people. ❜
❛ They say it was just one guy. Or a creature. ❜
❛ Your theatrics made an impression. ❜
❛ Who knows, you start pretending to have fun, you might even have a little by accident. ❜
❛ Sir, the pool is for decoration, and your friends do not have swimwear. ❜
❛ Can't change the world on your own. ❜
❛ All this.... It's-- It's not me. Inside, I am.... I am more. ❜
❛ It's not who you are underneath, it's what you do that defines you. ❜
❛ See, I don't go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets. ❜
❛ Would you like to see my mask? ❜
❛ I think you're trying to help. But I've been wrong before. ❜
❛ You look like a man who takes himself too seriously. ❜
❛ Do you want my opinion? You need to lighten up. ❜
❛ Well, you know how it is. You're out at night, looking for kicks, someone's passing around the weaponized hallucinogens… ❜
❛ Looks like someone's been burning the candle at both ends. ❜
❛ My boss has been missing for days, which means I should probably start by looking at the bottom of the river. ❜
❛ I respect the mind's power over the body. It's why I do what I do. ❜
❛ He's here. ❜
❛ What have you been doing here? Who are you working for? ❜
❛ Stay calm. You've been poisoned. ❜
❛ Where are we? Why did you bring me here? ❜
❛ I don't have the luxury of friends. ❜
❛ I'm gonna give you a sedative. You'll wake up back at home. ❜
❛ You're getting lost inside this monster of yours. ❜
❛ I don't care about my name. ❜
❛ It's not just your name. It's your father's name. And it's all that's left of him. Don't destroy it. ❜
❛ Oh, it's too late. You can't stop it now. ❜
❛ You're not [name]. I watched him die. ❜
❛ Surely a man who spends his nights scrambling over the rooftops of Gotham wouldn't begrudge me dual identities. ❜
❛ I warned you about compassion. ❜
❛ I want to thank you all for coming here tonight and drinking all of my booze. ❜
❛ Amusing. But pointless. None of these people have long to live. ❜
❛ Only a cynical man would call what these people have "lives,". ❜
❛ Crime. Despair. This is not how man was supposed to live. ❜
❛ You were my greatest student. It should be you standing by my side. ❜
❛ When a forest grows too wild, a purging fire is inevitable and natural. ❜
❛ Tomorrow the world will watch in horror as its greatest city destroys itself. ❜
❛ Like your father, you lack the courage to do all that is necessary. ❜
❛ If someone stands in the way of true justice, you simply walk up behind them and stab them in the heart. ❜
❛ You never did learn to mind your surroundings. ❜
❛ You burned my house and left me for dead. Consider us even. ❜
❛ What is the point of all those pushups if you can't even lift a bloody log? ❜
❛ You still haven't given up on me? ❜
❛ It's okay, it's okay. No one's gonna hurt you. ❜
❛ There is nothing to fear but fear itself! ❜
❛ Wait. You could die. At least tell me your name. ❜
❛ Well, well. You took my advice about theatricality a bit literally. ❜
❛ Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a city to destroy. ❜
❛ Have you finally learned to do what is necessary? ❜
❛ I won't kill you...but I don't have to save you. ❜
❛ I was a coward with a gun, and justice is about more than revenge, so thank you. ❜
❛ I never stopped thinking about you. About us. ❜
❛ And when I heard you were back, l.... I started to hope. ❜
❛ The man I loved...the man who vanished...he never came back at all. But maybe he's still out there somewhere. ❜
❛ I never said thank you. ❜
❛ “I never said thank you. ❜ – ❛ And you'll never have to. ❜
#rp meme#sentence starters#sentence meme#rp prompt#inbox meme#roleplay meme#roleplay prompts#ask meme#rp memes#rp prompts#*Movie#*mine
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hi hi hello i come bearing excerpts from recent rp responses of mine that cross over tma and tftgs.
first, from the agnes and rosa conversation:
“You know,” she says, a little quietly, “if you are looking for something spooky, there are some things in the woods. I mean, we don’t have big animals or anything, and I think my coworker Jerry said that the cultists are all gone now, but I know there’s a lot more out there!” She pauses for a moment, realizing that she absolutely should not be encouraging a customer go wandering in the woods.
“I mean,” she says, quickly backpedaling as she straightens up, “I’m sure most of it’s just silly stories, but… I dunno, I hear things sometimes from the people who come in. But, yeah, probably just stories.” She quickly clears her throat, “Um, have a nice day, ma’am!”
and now, from the very tense tony and jon interaction (jon panicked and offered the tape recorder to tony to destroy it if he wants, to prove like "no i'm not recording you without permission oh god here look you can destroy it if you wanna make sure"):
All in all, this man is either an incredible actor or, as far as Tony can tell, likely not composed or organized enough to present an actual threat to him. This knowledge calms him slightly, but he still keeps his guard up. Just because he’s reasonably confident that this stranger wouldn’t be able to do anything to him doesn’t mean there aren’t others waiting in the wings.
“So it’s empty,” Tony says carefully. He almost snorts. “But somehow it’s still whirring and won’t stop… So, what, it’s possessed?” The question hangs in the air for a long moment. It’s a ridiculous premise, but Tony isn’t going to discount it. He’s seen enough to know better.
He looks at the tape recorder as the man holds it out to him, and he decides, fuck it, he has nothing to lose right now. Besides, this may be a good opportunity to gauge how much of a threat the stranger actually might be.
Tony sets down one bag of trash, snatches the tape recorder from him, and throws it to the ground hard with a small crash. He then stomps on it, grinding the heel of his boot and smashing the tape recorder into something unrecognizable.
and lastly, from the legendary conversation between simon fairchild and spencer fucking middleton:
Though he doesn’t know exactly what the guy means when he remarks that he would look for someone his own age if it were possible, Spencer doesn’t miss his tone, nor how long and loud his laughter is. A subtle glance around the room does confirm that there doesn’t seem to be anyone around the stranger’s age. There are a few older patrons, but Spencer can’t see anybody that old, for the most part. Somehow, though, Spencer doubts that that’s not what the man is referring to.
“Well,” he drawls, “maybe you just need to try a little harder.” The man’s comment about Spencer not being adventurous almost make him laugh, but the expression he makes instead is closer to a toothy sneer. “Guess I’m not--or maybe I am, but I just don’t want anything to do with you specifically.” As he speaks, he injects as much venom into the words as he can. At this point, Spencer just wants to see if he can piss this guy off. It’s no fun when the person he’s being a dick to doesn’t rise to the bait, after all.
i don't have anything new to offer from the spencer and gerry interaction at this time, but just know. i believe spencer will be maimed and i hope he is.
1: skdfjdsfk "oh wait shit i shouldnt tell her to go into the spooky forest" moment
2: i adore the fact that hes like "this guy couldnt do shit to me. there might be other people though". scrawny weak loser jon rights forever and ever
3: "i just don't want anything to do with you specifically" KJHFKJHGKDFK
honorary 4: shaking with excitement. u go gerry
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another love
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
warnings: cheating, break up
a/n: i really just wrote some angst. okay then 🤩
summary: nat cheats on you for wanda
🏷: @nermalina @xprvngs @marvelwomenslut
please dont repost or try to plagarise my work in any way. you don’t have permission to do so. likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
“can you just kiss me, one last time that’s all i’m asking” natasha whispered her eyes evidently red and puffy. the two of you had been fighting all night. nat had come home from a long mission the other night and had chosen to stay the night with wanda instead of you. you were scared that what you thought had happened did happen. and boy were you right.
“why don’t you go kiss wanda instead maybe you’ll enjoy that more” you whisper, your voice going hoarse.
“y/n, baby please don’t do this please” natasha says holding your hand
“don’t do what? what don’t i do? hm? you cheated on me natasha! and now you’re telling me what not to do! no,” you say raising your voice again.
“don’t raise your fucking voice at me!” natasha says gripping your wrists tighter. you look at her with fear in your eyes, you quickly pull your hand away and turn around. natasha realizes what she did and the look in her eyes makes you breaks into more tears. you didn’t know your body could produce this many tears at once.
“i trusted you nat. i trusted you. i told you things i wouldn’t have told anyone, and you promised me you wouldn’t do anything in return.” you turned back around. “you’ve never hurt me. not once, but this nat? this fucking hurts.” a silence filled the room
“it wasn’t meant to go this far y/n, we were only supposed to be sleeping.” she said breaking the silence.
“then why couldn’t you have come home, if you had to just sleep, why go to wanda’s. obviously you wanted it to go this far you wouldn’t have gone there if you just wanted to sleep” the frustration showing more and more in your voice. “why her nat? what is it that she has that i don’t? powers? strength? being an avenger?”
“moya luybov it was an accident i di-“
“an accident!? an accident? oh my fucking god natasha. thats what you have to say? that it was a fucking accident, because it sure as hell doesn’t seem like. yeah i’ve seen you two, the flirtatious looks, wanda putting thoughts in your mind.”
“can-can we just work this out.”
“natasha, no. we can’t work this out. you know why? because you’ve been lying to me this entire relationship. it wasn’t me and you. it was always you and wanda. always. 6 FUCKING MONTHS NAT. why didn’t you just leave me if you wanted to be with her so bad?”
sobs wrack your body. you had only ever loved natasha but this. this hurt. you couldn’t seem to process the fact that someone who pretended so well to love you, didn’t actually love you.
“my friends all said you’d break my heart, i ignored them all. i lost all my friends to prove to them that you wouldn’t break my heart, but here we are with you breaking my heart.”
“y/n, honey, just look at-“
“nat how many times are you going to look into my eyes and lie to me. i cant do that, not if you’re going to keep lying” you say. you fell silent again and nat broke the silence again.
“how could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine?” she whispers walking away from the situation holding her forehead, her head aching. you bring your head down and shake it not being able to process the situation.
“i don’t want to loose you, but i can’t live with this, i can’t live with you doing this to me” you look at the ring shining on your finger and play with it. nat is still looking away, you couldn’t tell what her expressions were. happy maybe? happy that she’d finally gotten rid of you like she’s always wanted. you whisper something softly “was it her you were thinking of when you made love to me?”
nat turns around her mouth open. she had nothing to say. you pursed your lips in a line. you had gotten all you had needed from that expression. “it’s hard y/n, i love you a-“
“natasha. if you loved me, you would never have done this.” you flatly say. natasha sniffs and wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.
“i’m done nat, i’m done trying so hard for you for you to not even look at my direction. i’m not some toy you can play with natasha! its always wanda, it always has been.” you say shaking your head over and over again. your breathing becoming heavy.
“p-please y/n, we can start over. i’ll do anything, everything. i’ll fix everything, just please don’t leave me,” natasha chokes on a sob.
“no, nat i don’t think i can go through that again. i- i can’t trust you anymore, not after this.”
“i never meant to hurt you y/n/n”
“yeah, well if you didn’t mean to hurt me, you wouldn’t have done this, you wouldn’t have cheated. you wouldn’t have dated me. you wouldn’t have married me.” you say all whilst gripping your hands together tightly. you couldn’t cry in front of her again. you couldn’t show her how weak you would be without her. you couldn’t do that.
you walk over to the door of your shared apartment and placed your keys to the house on the kitchen counter. “here, give that to wanda will you, and do me a favor, don’t call this number again” you say walking out of the door. you run to the elevator hiding yourself from people not wanting them to see you cry. you race to your car, open the door and slam it shut. you sob into yourself. you hated this. you still loved her. you loved her so much, but you couldn’t do that to yourself. nowhere but nat was home. nats arms, her voice, everything was your comfort. you open your phone to a voicemail of nat.
“hey love, don’t know if you’re up yet, but i love you and i hope you have a good day, i just needed to run an errand, ill be back soon my love”
you cry harder and whisper to yourself, “i can’t do this without you”
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff angst#zee: writes shit#reader inserts#marvel
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The Vice and the Virtue - Part One
Pairing: Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader (later established as F following more parts)
A/N: i appreciate you guys so much for how quickly you blew up the sneak peak i did. it really motivated me to writing this
POV: Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Use of "Y/N". Angst?
Words: 2.3k
Description: How does one live a life of virtue when past vices begin arising after a successful jailbreak with untied ends?
It was terrifying as I watched my home be stripped of everything it knew, it was as if with every furniture upturned or removed, a piece of me was taken with it. It was the couch, the tables, the side-tables, the food from the fridge, everything. By this point, it wasn't our home anymore, it was the home. Everything was out of my control, I had no say in what the strangers robbed me of for their 'investigation'.
I was questioned for days about what he did, about why he did it, and if I was an accomplice. Fingers were pointed at me without any real reason behind them. I didn't even know what they were talking about, he simply told me it was a business trip or some family thing-- I don't remember but I wish I did. If I had, I might've been able to save myself the hassle of convincing everyone else that.
Zemo always wanted and always was isolated and by himself. While he had friends, or contacts as he called it, he preferred to be lonesome. By lonesome, that means either in a crowded place with no one with him, or at the house with me. It was something odd to get used to, but I never wanted to trade a day with him for a day with some people who call me their friend, only to turn around and talk bad on me.
Now, I'd trade all my days for just one more with him.
With the sun having just set and the aroma of freshly brewed tea filling the air, it became a good day. Until I saw on the news of a jailbreak that just occurred, several prisoners being injured and one-- a highly dangerous prisoner (as the news described it)--escaping. I saw that it was in Germany and I believed for just a second that it could've been him.
I was fortunate enough just to keep the home, after a few months of it being held hostage from me. With every night I slept here, the more desolate I began to feel, for I can't dare try and show my face to the world. I'm too afraid people will talk and say that I'm "the one who dated the man who destroyed the Avengers". Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but something doesn't feel right if I go out without him or if I just go out in general. It feels as if I've been under house arrest or exiled from the public for years.
It was another simple night, a warm one just cool enough to keep the windows open. I love hearing the sounds of the crickets outside the large bedroom windows accompanied by the occasional whispering the leaves made when wind made them rustle. The moonlight gazed perfectly onto the door, illuminating a path outward if I had to get up at some point; which I usually did because sleeping soundly was no longer an option. Though, I was almost asleep until the large hum of the garage being opened startled me.
Quickly, I turned on the bedroom lights and walked into the large, open main room that had stairs leading to the garage. I flicked on the lights and saw the shadow of a figure grow as it climbed to the top, the breath staying stagnant in my lungs. Should I grab a weapon? Should I find an escape route? All of these life-determining questions crossed my mind until I could comprehend who really was climbing the steps.
His eyes scanned the room, as if he was a child lost in the store looking for their parent, until his eyes finally met mine. All of his concerned features dropped into something softer, something kinder, something I never saw from him before. “Wha- Why are you here?” The ends of my mouth rose into the biggest smile I could possible create, without even realizing it.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d be back?” His strides were wide and swift as he made his way to me, cupping my face into his gentle hands and pressed a kiss to my lips. A kiss I have never felt before, it had a different feeling behind it, a different motive…
…He missed me.
I placed my hand over the one that laid carefully on my face, taking in every bit of him. I forgot how small wrinkles came down from the corners of his eyes, or how his cheeks curved in slightly. I forgot how when his features softened and when he gazed into me, my legs felt weak and butterflies filled my stomach. I forgot how much he loved me.
He pressed the smallest kiss to my forehead and looked back down to me. "I have some people for you to meet. We have guests." I didn't know what he meant until two large men came up the same steps. The small bubble of comfort and renewal was broken when Zemo's attention drifted from me and onto them. Despite those few moments being a few measly seconds, it felt longer than the years past.
The two men grew tense and one of them shouted, "Zemo who the hell is this?" Almost instinctively, as the two strangers approached me, he placed his arm in front of me. "So you're telling me not only are you rich, but you had a girl waiting for you the whole time?"
"You could say that, but I never asked her to wait or stay." He looked to me and the corners of his mouth rose ever-so-slightly. "Y/N, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes, or Bucky." The metal-armed man raised his flesh hand when his name was called, almost like taking attendance.
I passed out cups of tea and coffee for the three men and sat down on the couch next to Zemo, trying to comprehend what the three of them were telling me. "Then after we realized that neither Sam or I really knew how to handle or hunt the super soldier serum, we decided to contact the one guy who does."
I looked at them clueless for a second, "but didn't Zemo frame you for assassinating a king? And cause the Avengers to break up?" Zemo looked at me and nodded, with a look that essentially said 'really? you had to bring that up?'
"Yes, yes the man did." The other man, Sam, was now talking. "After that, Tin Man over here decided to break Zemo out of jail, which I had no part in. Frankly, I still don't see why we need him." Bucky just stared at Sam from the metal remark. They looked like they were good friends but argued like a couple with marital problems.
The three of them went back and forth about what to do next, throwing out different names and places. I pulled my knees up to my chest and placed my drink down on the chestnut side-table next to me, remembering the way policemen ripped open the table and threw it around, the scuffs on the sides to prove it. The tugs they made on the drawers tugged on me as-well, making me lean my head against Zemo's shoulder. After all this time, he still kept his muscles, but to be fair he also had a lot of time on his hands the past few years.
Suddenly, a yawn escaped my mouth and I tried to stifle it. His attention quickly shifted to me and put the conversation at a pause. "If you would like, we can go to bed," the words made my heart simply explode. It was a simple action that I didn't even notice I missed so much, it had been so long that the idea of sleeping with someone else feels so foreign. Although, it's a humbly welcomed foreign experience.
I nodded quickly and stood up, realizing I should probably be a good host and give the two guests a place to sleep. "If you guys want to follow me, I can show you to your rooms." I led them down the hallway, trying to keep my feet of the floor as much as I could because it felt like ice. I don't remember the last time I was down here, I didn't really have a reason to. Opening two doors, I turned to face them, "here are your rooms. Bathroom is first on the left." Bucky smiled and nodded quietly.
Sam, on the other hand, went and said, "so is there a breakfast in bed option or will we have to go out there to a chef?" Bucky rammed his metal elbow into Sam's stomach and glared at him.
"Thank you, Y/N. And please ignore Birdy over here."
As I began to walk away from them I heard a quiet exchange of cursing. Looking back, the two were pushing each other and fighting to get towards the bathroom. Bucky eventually pushed Sam against the opposite wall, then ran into the bathroom, with a subtle click of the lock. Sam locked eyes with me, nodded his head down and shuffled into his room like a dog with his tail between his legs.
"Those two are quite the duo," I murmured softly as I pushed open the bedroom door. I fully expected to see Zemo passed out from his endeavor from earlier, but it was a welcomed surprise when I saw him and the same look of bliss spread on his face as he sat on the end of the bed, having just changed into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. Those same quick strides closed the gap between us, but this time he was softer and slower, as if he wanted to make up for lost time.
Starting at the bottom of my earlobe, his fingers traced my jaw, his eyes following them and scanning each and every one of my features. The way he stared and touched me reflected how touch-starved he really was all this time, turns out we were in the same boat but different countries. His gentle hand flowed from my ear, along my jaw, and when it reached my chin, he cusped my cheek. I leaned in nearly automatically into the touch, finally making eye contact when he looked at me.
With a small movement, he pressed a loving kiss to my forehead. "I never thought I'd be able to see you again. Or do that. Or do this," his other hand reached my cheek and brought me in for a kiss on my lips that was full of longing. "Or do this," he nudged my thighs and I jumped into his arms, now truly aware of what I was missing these past few years. Zemo set me down in the bed and got in next to me. "Or do this," he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in gently, holding me as tightly as he could without suffocating me.
Laying on his chest, I took in everything and couldn't imagine how I went so long without him. It felt like night and day. For so long I was living in the dark, completely isolated from the outside world and anything that could possibly hurt me anymore. Once he returned, he turned on the lights, he brought me back into the sunlight. I know he just got home but it feels like everything is back where it's supposed to be, like nothing ever changed. Somehow, with his return, the bed also feels softer.
"Why did you wait?" His sudden question caught me off guard. "I mean, I cannot say how excited I was to see you--but why didn't you move on?" I looked up and saw a confused expression, with his eyebrows furrowed together and lips pressed.
I didn't know how to answer him, how do I express everything I've felt these past years? How do I accurately tell him that after seeing my home destroyed and ransacked, the only thing I could think or do was to picture rebuilding it?
"When you were arrested, men came and took everything. They destroyed the house and didn't leave a single thing unturned. It was months before I could step back into the house and I think almost two years before I could begin the process of restoring it." I could feel his breathing slow down and become deeper, reminding me to pull myself together. "When I could finally put the pieces of the home back together, it didn't feel the same, because you weren't there. I wanted to try and go out but it wasn't right to go into the open world without you.
So, I waited. After watching strangers destroy the things I loved, and the things I had so many memories of, I could only think to fix it all and rebuild it all. But, I couldn't do that without you. I needed you. I need you."
With one movement, he changed our positioning so his face was now over mine, leaning over me. "What did I do to deserve you, meine geliebte," he spoke softly and pressed one final kiss to me and whispered with a smile, "shall we go to sleep now?" I nodded slowly and watched him get up to turn off the lights.
When we were sleeping, or when he was sleeping, all I could think to be was wide awake. Last time, he left suddenly during the day and promised to come home, I didn't know that previous night that he'd be disappearing from me. So, while he was in bed with his arm draped around my waist, holding me close and occasionally moving his arm to pull me closer, I was remembering every single thing.
I savored the way the sheets felt hotter than usual with him being home. I savored the way his breath against the back of my neck made me ticklish. I savored the way he moved his thumb in circles against my skin every few minutes, even when he was asleep. I made sure to remember how his heavy arms made it more difficult to breath. I couldn't bare to forget any of these things, so when he leaves again, I'll remember.
But right now, he's home.
He's back at our home.
part two
get tagged - masterlist
tags: @blondekel77 @mysticdeerpolice @dexthtoyounglings @anthrogothic @darlinloves @hollmarch
#helmut zemo x reader#helmut zemo x you#zemo x you#helmut zemo x y/n#zemo x reader#zemo x y/n#helmut zemo#zemo#zemo smut#zemo fluff#zemo angst#helmut zemo fluff#helmut zemo angst#baron zemo#baron zemo x reader#baron zemo imagine#baron zemo x you#baron zemo x y/n#tfatws
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[2] Take it.
Part 1
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Written from the perspective of Sukuna
content warning: out of character, curse words, cigarette smoking, mutilation (quick and heals right back), blood, oral (F receiving), virginity lost, squirting
Word Count: 4.4k
If you like it, please leave a like and/or reblog ♡
The next night, she was sitting on the goose feather stuffed futon I had gotten for her yesterday. She was reading a book about the Big Three Vengeful Spirits while one of my servants painted her toenails. She told me to pick a color, and I picked a dark red like the color of blood. I got a kick out of seeing my choice on her toes. I took a seat beside her.
“Maybe I should get a pedicure too.”
“Get a manicure while you’re at it.”
Wait, did she say that because I was fingering her last night? Ugh. My servant flinched after Y/N had talked back to me. They were shocked and had bowed and ran off as soon as they finished with her nails, hoping to evade punishment I would usually give to someone (and those around them) who disobeyed me. But they would have no effect on her. The little brat has returned. I remembered her face as she was cumming hard around my fingers yesterday. Can I have her back? We hadn’t talked about yesterday yet but now was a good time to.
“What’d you think about last night?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”
She gave me a coy smile and then stuck her tongue out at me. I wanted to grab her chin and kiss her. I wanted to do last night all over again. I wanted to finally put her in her place.
“It was okay.”
Okay? She fucking cried while cumming and it was just okay? She gives me a headache. I don’t know what to do with her.
“Why did you cry then?”
She brought her hand to her mouth and chuckled.
“I’m trying to figure that out too.”
She shrugged. I sighed deeply. I needed to solve her and unravel the mystery.
“For a moment, I felt like I was yours. And I didn’t like the feeling of upsetting who I belonged to.”
I felt a heat in my chest that traveled downward and made my stomach drop. Y/N actually felt true remorse for being a cocky brat, if only for a moment. I wanted to own her and call her mine. It did feel like she was mine when I touched her. I wanted to keep her by my side. I could pleasure her for as long as we live and I could train her to be my good girl too. I never thought to have a Queen, but she would be perfect.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I came back to my senses after I finished cumming.”
The image I had of us together in my head shattered by her crass words. I’ve never struggled this much to get something I want. I couldn’t stand it. She knows what she’s doing to me. I’m sure she’s teasing me.
She pulled out a packet of cigarettes and I looked at it with disgust.
“You can’t smoke here.”
“Fine.”
I blinked and she had vanished. She wasn’t in the shrine anymore. I went outside looking for her. I followed the scent of smoke and found her standing upon the highest point of the building. She smoked her cigarette nonchalantly.
“You’re disrespecting my dwelling.”
“What? You said I couldn’t smoke in there so I went outside!”
I sighed out of exasperation and my palm met my face.
“You’re so frustrating.”
We stood in silence together. She took a long drag and closed her eyes.
“Well… it was one of the best fingerings I’ve ever gotten. Like top three!”
One of them? She’s trying to piss me off. But I wouldn’t doubt she’d bring up the ‘hundreds of women I’ve slept with’ comment if I said something.
“To be honest, I really wanted you last night. I was aching for something to fill me up. I called out for you in a moment of weakness but I decided to stick by my words.”
My head perked up in interest. So she does want me. That’s valuable information.
“I mean it though. I’m not going to have sex with you. When I lose it to another virgin, let’s talk.”
She laughed and was about to leap down. I grabbed her wrist to keep her with me for a moment. She froze as we made eye contact. She could see how serious I was about wanting her but after a few seconds, she disappeared back into the shrine. I hated how easy it was for her to brush me off and I was crushed I had no chance with her. I couldn’t let her get away. There’s no way I would ever meet another woman who can be my equal in battle and is able to resist me. There must be something I can say or do to show her that the past doesn’t matter, that I would make her my whole life right now.
After a few moments alone to strategize, I followed her back inside.
“Let me lay with you.”
She shook her head.
“There isn’t enough space for you.”
“Just move over. I bought this anyway.”
“You bought it for ME.”
She pouted but then scooted over. I spooned her and took in the pleasant fragrance of her hair. She seemed to be ignoring me, opting to pay attention to her phone instead. Whatever.
I slowly moved my hand to her thigh and touched her softly.
“What about foreplay?”
“What?”
There was annoyance in her voice. We both sat up to face each other.
“I mean, you’ve had it before so I’m not taking anything from you.”
She put her hand to her chin and looked up to help her think, though she already knew what she was going to say.
“I don’t want to.”
“Is it because of what happened in the past, Y/N? What does it matter now? That was all before I met you.”
She shrugged with an arrogant smile on her face, knowing she had the upper hand here.
“I told you of my conditions.”
I put my head in my hands out of frustration. This was the last thing I could think of trying.
“I’ll cut it off.”
She gasped with concern but then bellowed out a laugh.
“You would really do that just to have sex with me?”
“Huh? Uh…”
Fuck. I made it an option now. What did I just do? Is it really worth it? I started thinking about her small mouth around my cock and how I would have to do some extensive training to get it to fit down her throat. I wanted to practice however many times, and as long as it would take. Was this the only way? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My thoughts were in a frenzy but I collected myself to say calmly.
“Yeah. I would.”
What the fuck. She has the most devious look on her face right now. She actually wants me to do it.
“I mean, you can use reverse cursed technique.”
The fucking brat. Her smug smile made me want to choke her out. I made a promise to myself that I would get her back for this if I get the chance to fuck her.
“It’s still going to hurt like hell. And be very disturbing.”
“I’m here for you.”
I won’t forget her mocking of me. She’ll get hers soon enough. I stood up and let my kimono drop to the floor. My dick was already hard and she eyed it through my briefs with an interested look on her face. She looked up at me and our eyes met. I swear I saw her subtly bite her lip. She then watched intently as I slowly took my briefs off, my cock popping right out of them. I’m sorry, buddy. We’ve been through it all together. This is fucking ridiculous.
“Can you promise me something, Y/N?”
She broke her concentration from my dick to reply to me.
“What is it?”
“Will you make me regret this?”
Her mischievous smile concerned me.
“No.”
That was sufficient for me. I leaned over to kiss her and our lips met. I didn’t expect her to be willing to but she wanted to comfort me. Her lips were soft and warm and they reminded me that what I was about to do would be worth it. Right? Why can’t we just fuck right now? Ugh. Let’s fucking get this over with. I used my cursed technique to cleanly cut it from the base. I dropped to my knees, using one of my hands to support me. The pain was intense and the sight of my dick falling to the floor made me want to throw up. Blood spurted everywhere and I was coughing up blood. Y/N stared in shock and amusement, like she couldn’t believe I had actually done it. I began to heal my dick and it grew back in several seconds. She covered her mouth and looked a bit disgusted but more intrigued.
“It’s done.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You really don’t know how much I want you.”
“Oh, please. It wouldn’t take you long to forget me.”
“How could I forget you after what I just did for you?”
She rolled her eyes with a smirk. I shook my head while I put my briefs and kimono back on. I brushed myself off and got down to lay my head in her lap. She petted my head while I was still recovering from the traumatic severing. She ran her fingers through my hair and lightly scratched my scalp with her nails. I couldn’t exactly say what I was feeling right now. It’s something I haven’t felt before.
“I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this for me.”
The snarky tone left Y/N’s voice and was replaced with a softer one for a bit. I looked up at her to meet her gaze. She brushed her hand across my cheek and then she traced the markings on my face with her index finger. Her touch was so soothing but it sent shivers through me at the same time.
“There isn’t another woman out there like you.”
She scoffed.
“How cliché.”
I sat up to face her.
“I mean it. I consider you my equal. There are very, very few people I can call my equal and I’ve killed most of them already. If I could kill you, I would’ve done so by now. But your technique neutralizes mine so I can’t. The next best thing is to make you mine. You’d be the perfect Queen for me.”
She stayed silent and we had a staring contest. She didn’t seem too impressed by my answer. I continued on.
“I could give you last night every night and much more. I’ll figure out exactly what you want. Mentally, physically, sexually, materially, everything."
She looked curious. I had to slowly chip away at her walls to bring them down. She is the strongest female Jujutsu sorcerer after all. She doesn’t need me but I could be everything she wants.
“Let me prove it to you.”
I outstretched my hand for her to hold. She hesitated but once she grabbed it, I kissed the back of her hand and I pulled her into me between my legs, with her back to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and put my mouth to ear. I breathed lightly by her earlobe and whispered to her.
“I could be yours if you’ll be mine.”
My words sent a chill down her spine. I kissed her ear and gently took a fistful of her hair in my hand to tilt her head for easier access to her neck. I made sure not to be rough with her yet. I would ease her into it. I gave her soft kisses down her neck to her collarbone. She squirmed a bit, and she told me that she’s especially ticklish there. I followed the same trail with my tongue and she shivered.
“Do you want to know what else I can do with my tongue?”
Y/N nodded and I positioned myself in front of her. I spread her legs and went eye level with her cunt. I rubbed over her clit through her panties with my thumb, noticing how warm she was. I slipped her panties off and took a good look at her pussy. Beautiful. She had also waxed completely. I hadn’t noticed yesterday since I was only fingering her. Was she anticipating this moment? Has she been playing hard to get this entire time? Well, I’ve been waiting for this too, darling. She blushed and tried to cover her pussy with her hands.
“Don’t stare at it so much. It’s embarrassing.”
I smirked at her.
“Fully waxed, huh? And I bet you taste so good. Move your hands.”
As she exposed herself for me, I licked my lips and dove in. I gathered my saliva in my mouth and spat it right onto her clit for lubrication. Her face went red and she put her hands on her face out of self-consciousness. For a brat with a big mouth, her shyness right now surprised me. My tongue flicked up her clit a few times and a soft moan escaped her lips. I took the sound as an okay to go faster. I licked up and down at a steady pace. I brought my tongue down to her opening and I stuck my tongue in and out of her cunt. Her legs started to tremble.
As I focused my mouth on her clit, I moved up my hands under her dress to play with both of her nipples. She wriggled beneath me as I rubbed them between my fingers and she pushed herself closer to my mouth. I bet she could feel the smile I had on right now so I quickened the tempo. My tongue started at her opening and I licked slowly all the way to the top of her clit and then I changed to a quick up and down motion. I picked up the subtle movement of her cunt clenching into itself, signaling that it was time to add my fingers into it. I teased her orifice where her arousal was collecting. I lightly went over it without entering her. I made eye contact with her and she covered her face again.
“What happened, princess? Do you want me to stop?”
“No.. I want more, please.”
She spoke meekly. The smile I wore had a bit of conceit behind it. I had gotten her so vulnerable.
“Because you asked so sweetly.”
I inserted my middle finger slowly and she immediately tightened around it. I groaned feeling how tight she was. Fuck.
“That’s too tempting.”
I pulled the skin of her mound up to expose her clit completely. It had grown swollen and was obviously begging for attention. I wasted no time continuing my rapid licking. My up and down motion turned into circles which turned into licking one spot on her clit in particular and then moving to another spot, and remembering which places were her favorite. Throughout this all, I fingered her excruciatingly slow.
“I think you’re ready for another finger. Is that okay?”
“Yes, Sukuna!”
She had answered me just as I finished my sentence. I grinned at her maliciously. I finally had her exactly where I wanted. I added my ring finger inside of her and the two fingers alone filled her up. Her pussy tightened around my fingers repeatedly. I was getting restless. It wouldn’t be much longer until I can stretch her out with my cock. I fingered her slowly at first, but then I hooked my fingers upward and pressed that perfect spot at a leisurely pace. This elicited a loud moan from her and she pulled at my hair.
With my come hither motion with my fingers and my tongue licking away at her clit, her moans filled almost every other second. I brought my lips to her clit and sucked lightly. I then kissed up and down her folds before putting work on her clit with my tongue again. Her legs shook uncontrollably.
“Hold your legs back for me.”
She held her legs back by her thighs so I had even easier access to her. I sneered at her.
“You’ll do whatever I say?”
She nodded timidly. My goal was to pleasure her so much that she submits to me. It was working.
“I’m training you well, aren’t I? Look at me.”
She hesitated, probably embarrassed at what was happening down here. She made eye contact with me and I had on a devious smile while I licked her clit. She ran her fingers through my hair, feeling my undercut and then tugging at the top. She looked down at my tongue swiftly licking at her clit and my fingers entering and exiting over and over again. She was mesmerized. As we stared into each other’s eyes, I knew the sexual gratification was overwhelming for her. She felt filthy witnessing what I was doing to her and the pleasure on her facial expression made it obvious that she loved it.
“Sukuna, I want to cum..”
I chuckled haughtily.
“Go ahead. I give you permission to.”
Our eyes were locked on each other. She wanted to hold back and last a bit longer to savor the moment for just a few more seconds but she was at her limit.
“Right there!”
She cried out. I didn’t waste any time in giving her exactly what she wanted. She winced and closed her eyes shut, preparing for the orgasm she was about to have. I lightly slapped her on her cheek to make her regain focus.
“Fucking look at me.”
She opened her eyes to see mine glowing red. She had on that worried face she makes when she’s about to cum. The feeling crept up on her and then it hit her harshly. She gasped hard and then she began to gush. Her moans were still loud even though she was breathless and convulsing. I raised my head and began to chuckle again. My face was drenched in her juices. I slapped her cunt a few times, eliciting a yelp-like moan from her.
“Oh? Has anyone ever made you squirt before?”
She panted for air and shook her head. I went face level with her and pet her head with a warm smile.
“Good.”
I felt the heat radiating from her cunt. She was ready.
“So what should we do now?
“I want more..”
She spoke quietly and apprehensively.
“What? I couldn’t hear you. I won’t ask you to speak up again.”
My forbidding facial expression took hold of her, telling her to do as I say, now.
“I want more, Sukuna! Please give me more!”
“What do you want exactly?”
“I want.. your cock!”
I looked at her with a wicked smile that betrays all purity. I quickly undressed and she bit her finger at the sight of my dick. She was still holding her legs back for me and I grasped my cock and lined it up with her entrance. I gave her a couple of slaps to her cunt with it and then I rubbed it over her clit. She took in a short and deep breath, feeling some of its thickness and weight but before I entered, I leaned in close to her ear to tell her something.
“Your innocence is mine.”
Y/N’s expression had a bit of fear in it but she had no objections. With that little warning, I thrust myself fully into her, burying myself in her soaking wet cunt. She cried out in pleasure and in pain.
“Good girl.”
I said arrogantly as I slid my cock out slowly just before the exit, then thrusting back into her at the same agonizing pace, getting deep into her and feeling her cervix on the head of my cock. She was unbelievably tight. Her breath was labored and she let out her sultry moan that I loved hearing, all the while we made intense eye contact. Her eyes were wide with lust, her mouth was open, and her face in pleasure from me filling her up was exactly what I’ve been waiting to see. I stuck two of my fingers in her mouth and she immediately began swirling her tongue around them and sucking on them.
“You know, I don’t think I would’ve been able to tell that you were a virgin if you didn’t tell me. You’re so willing and I can tell your tongue is experienced.”
Her face went ruddy and she hid it with her palms. I moved her hands out of the way and gripped her neck.
“No need to be embarrassed about giving yourself up to me.”
I snickered and quickened my pace inside of her, the loudness of her moans egging me on. I tightened my grip around her throat and felt her clench hard around my cock, not wanting to let go. She put her hands on my wrist to hold onto. I groaned at how tight she was. At first, I thought for a second that I wouldn’t be able to fit inside of her but she’s such a good girl. She was taking it with no complaint even though I knew she was feeling some pain from a feeling she’s never felt before inside of her, stretching her walls and bumping into her cervix again and again.
“I could only dream about how good you would feel but it’s better than I could ever imagine. I want this every day.”
I’m not sure if she heard me over her moans. I might have to remind her later. I fucked her hard and fast, rolling my hips while thrusting into her. Her moans sounded like purrs. My little kitten. She meowed at me.
“Please, Suku. More..”
“I know, princess. Don’t rush me.”
I found her nickname for me very adorable. I smiled at her sinisterly and then I licked my thumb to lubricate it. It then found its way to her clit. I rubbed it up and down, matching the pace of my thrusts. She cried out her moans and her legs began to shake violently. I put them over my shoulders to stabilize her a bit more and my cock got even deeper inside of her. She winced and I pressed my lips against hers. The kiss was heated and passionate, our tongues meeting over and over. She moaned into my mouth and I couldn’t help but groan back.
I pulled out abruptly. She gasped and spoke with urgency to me.
“Don’t stop, please!”
“Let’s switch positions.”
She nodded obediently and I sat down.
“Sit on my cock.”
She quickly got up but took her time sitting on my dick, gradually taking the entire length inside of her. The warmness slowly enveloped my cock and I breathed out heavily. She let out a long moan as she took all of me inside of her. I began thrusting up to fuck her. She began to whine about how good my cock was and I made a mental note that she really loves this position. I firmly took a fistful of her hair and leaned her head back, leaving love bites on her neck that began to turn patches of her skin red and purple. I was marking her as mine.
Y/N could hardly speak. Besides moaning, she said my name over and over again, sprinkled with pleases and mores, and yelling out curse words. I loved how submissive she became. The more I pleasured her, the more she let me do whatever I wanted to her. All the trouble she put me through was worth it. I licked my index and middle finger and used my spit as lube to rub her clit. Her moans turned into wails and she buried her face in my shoulder.
“It’s too good, Suku.. I’m close..”
I composed myself to speak normally to her.
“Yeah? Are you going to cum on my cock?”
The filthy words I spoke to her forced her to orgasm. She cried out for me and wrapped her arms around my neck. She leaned her head back and her face in pleasure made me want to cum right at this second. I continued thrusting in her while rubbing her clit, not giving her a break even though she had just climaxed. She whimpered, feeling overstimulated.
“Just a little more, Y/N.”
I kissed her deeply and held her shaking body, slowly and almost romantically fucking her.
“Where do you want my cum?”
Her eyes went wide. She thought for a few seconds. Her already flushed face went even redder.
“What is it, princess? You can tell me anything.”
I was about to lose it. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t get the words out. She was a bit too occupied with the pleasure I was giving her. I tapped her cheek a few times to bring her back down to earth. I spoke with a bit of a harsher tone.
“Spit it out, brat.”
She was gathering up courage to tell me where she wanted it. A pressure was building up in her chest, but then she just shouted it out.
“I want your cum inside of me! Please, Suku! Please!”
Her needy whines pulled the rug from under me. I growled as I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly as my cock twitched, coating her walls with my cum. My breathing was labored and my body spazzed out a bit. Trying to catch my breath, we stayed in this position for a while. I held her and pet the back of her head. She’s too good.
“So you can be a good girl. I just have to tame the little brat first.”
“Hmph.”
She pouted at first but then she smiled shyly and stole a quick kiss from me. She stood up and my cum leaked out of her cunt and started running down the inside of her thighs. I wiped some off with my fingers and I stood up and put them into her mouth. She happily licked it up and closed her eyes as if she had tasted something delectable. I towered over her and I held her closely to me, her face buried in my chest. I pulled away a bit and took hold of her chin to tilt it towards me.
“Did you like that, princess?”
Her next words were spoken with a snicker.
“It was okay.”
I smiled at her menacingly.
“Don’t lie to me, darling. I hope you know this is only the beginning. You’re mine now.”
MIGRATING TO A NEW BLOG @baji-san
#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen imagine#sukuna imagine#sukuna fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#mine#jujutsu kaisen
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Foolish Tommy Lore Transcript
Title says it lol, on May 6th they did lore that I transcribed at the time; the whole stream is great but I only transcribed the lore bit just for funsies, regardless of if it already exists. If it does, welp; I promise this is my own typed out thing that took an hour or so lol
Copy pasted from a google doc; whole 2.2k word transcript beneath the cut:
*Text*: Sound effects *Laughs* *Sighs* *Pickle sounds*
(Text): Actions, descriptions, or lulls (Pause) (Long Pause) (Looks away) (Loudly)
/Text: Overlapping lines
Pickle: Pickle.
https://youtu.be/Djy6uPtIKiE
Starts at 2:52:50
Foolish: I am a rich man, Tommy.
Tommy: Well, cool. I’m not.
Foolish: *Laughs* You’re wearing full Netherite armor. Well, besides the iron boots.
Tommy: Well I borrowed from Tubbo, so I could go and fight Dream.
(Pause)
Foolish: ...Oh, how’d that go? (Pause) ...Wait, you fought Dream?
Tommy: …*Frustrated sigh*
Tommy: (Heading to the Pickle) Do you hear that, do you hear that?!
Foolish: N-No no, no, nono, no no no, that is an important question!
Tommy: Do you hear that?!
Foolish: That is an important question!
Tommy: *Pickle sound effect* Ayyy! /Amen brother, amen!
Foolish: /No no, bad, no, shut up Pickle!
Foolish: What do you mean, you fought Dream?
Tommy (Quietly): ...W-Well, y’know… you’ve seen Wilbur, haven’t you?
Foolish: No, no, actually. Well, actually, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Ghostbur…. Probably, like, a few weeks ago. Lovely guy, I like Ghostbur.
(Long pause, Tommy looks down at the floor)
Foolish: Do you need Pickle time? You seem upset.
Tommy: Nope. We just mine.
Foolish: Just mine? Okay! Okay..
Tommy: *Long sigh* … Ghostbur’s, um, Ghostbur’s not here anymore.
Foolish: Oh, did he pack up? Move out? Got bored? He seemed like a free spirit.
Tommy: Yeah, he moved out, um, to this little train station, far away. There’s a little train station, you know, right near the world border. There’s a little train station.
Foolish: Oh, well that’s cool! I wanna see that sometime. (Pause) ...I was thinking about building a train myself, actually, I was gonna call it The Hype Train.
Tommy: ...That’s really cringe.
Foolish: Well, I-I disagree, That depends on your definition of cringe.
Tommy: You hit it, the nail on the head.
Foolish: No, I disagree, I-
Tommy: There’s a little, um, there’s a little train station, out near the world border, and Ghostbur went, but he left Friend.
Foolish: He left Friend?
Tommy: But we’ll get Friend to him soon.
Foolish: Oh.
Tommy: Because then he’ll be happy. ...But no, um, Ghostbur left, and I, I went to prison, to go and….
Tommy: (Pause) How much can you… take, Foolish?
Foolish: Take? What do you mean?
Tommy: Blood. Blood. Does that upset you?
Foolish: Uuum, mm, see, okay, okay, I-I don’t really, do that anymore. I haven’t killed a soul since being here. I don’t really do killing.
Tommy: (Slightly shaky) Ouh...well, um. I went to go and kill Dream, Foolish, you see, you know he killed me, don’t you? /And uh-
Foolish: /Yeah, I’m aware that- Wait, speaking of which, h- I never really asked you, you know, I knew it was kind of a touchy subject… How exactly are you back?
(Long silence. They stare at each other.)
Foolish: Okay, okay, maybe wrong question, wrong question…. Y’know, one step at a time…
Tommy: Alright, I don’t really feel comfortable talking about that with you, Foolish, /if I’m honest.
Foolish: /Okay, okay, no, fair enough,
Tommy: But, um…. *coughs* No.
Foolish: So, you fought Dream?
Tommy: Yeah.
Foolish: Recently?
Tommy: Well, I tried to, and then Wilbur, uh, was revived, he was revived, and he came back, uuuh, and now he’s… I don’t know where he’s gone, (Energetically) but all I know is I’m proving that bitch wrong, ay?!
Foolish: Wait, what do you mean-
Tommy: Because he told me, he told me I’m weak! He told me I couldn’t even lift… lift my whole weight, six-foot-three, and now, I’m, what I’m doing is I’m going and I’m picking up all this stone to prove him, I’m gonna get it and I’m gonna fucken go “Yeah, bitch!”
Foolish: You’re… gathering stone… wait okay, I have so many questions, but we'll just stick to one question at a time…. You’re gathering stone… to prove that, you’re a…a man?
Tommy: Well, I already know I’m a man, just to, fucken prove him wrong. And I need to, uh-
Foolish: That you can… gather stone?
Tommy: (Pause, quieter) Well, y-yeah. Fuckin’, I don’t know how to speak to you, man.
Foolish: I don’t really see how this solves the problem…?
Tommy: Well, it doesn’t solve the problem, it’s preventing the problem, Foolish, alright? Have you noticed that all the problems come, the-they don’t get solved, do they, alright? It ends up with some madman screaming he’s solved it, alright, and now he’s- and then look at ‘im, alright, now he’s taken away everyone's favorite man. Ghostbur, alright? Problems don’t really get solved on this server.
Foolish: No, no, yeah, I-I suppose you’re right….
Tommy: Yeah. /Well, that’s what I’m doing-
Foolish: /Well, how do we go about changing that? By gathering stone?
Tommy: No! Well, what I’m doing, my friend, is preventing the problem. Before it gets out of hand, like it did before, alright? *Sigh*
Foolish: So… Wilbur’s back… Uumm, okay, yep, I’ll just- I’ll- I’m not even gonna ask how he’s back, that’s-that’s a question for another day-- and you’re here, just, you’re trying to stop him? You don’t- You don’t like that he’s back? I- Weren’t you guys friends at some point?
Tommy: Listen. Listen, alright. /Come over here Foolish,
Foolish: /I’m still a little fuzzy on everything,
Tommy: Let me-Let me show you something, alright? You-You’re still very new ‘round here, /I’m not really sure... what you are, but, come over here, alright?
Foolish: /Yeah yeah yeah.
Tommy: (Leads him to L’manberg) You see this? L’manberg.
Foolish: Oh yeah, I’ve heard this before.
Tommy: This was mine and Wilbur’s na- It was Wilbur’s nation, (shakily) it was Wilbur’s, which makes it all the more heart-wrenching, alright? And he decided, that even, *sigh* and he doesn’t mean this, but even though at the time--when we made this?--it was to get away from Dream, because Dream, wouldn’t let us do what we wanted to. He told us that we had to live under his big, iron fist, but we went “No, Dream, that’s not fair, is it?” alright, you don’t think that’s fair, do you Foolish?
Foolish: No, no, /so you were a couple revolutionaries...revolutionists, basically.
Tommy: /We can’t- People want to do what they want. So we made this nation, yeah, we made a nation, and it was glorious, and it was amazing! People challenged it, sure, but we got through it!
Tommy: *Heavy sigh* And then to try and con--you really don’t know the story?-- /and then to try and consolidate our power... we held an election.
Foolish: /I mean...yeah.
Tommy: Now… *Sigh*
Foolish: Oh man, you’re saying there used to government here? Oof.
Tommy: Now, the problem with an election is it kinda puts all your life on the line, which can be good, if you’re confident, but perhaps we were a little overconfident… and because of that, Foolish, well, we, um…. We lost! To the hands of JSchlatt, right here, actually, right about here is where we lost.
Foolish: Oh.
Tommy: And Schlatt banished us. Now, we were okay, when- I was okay, when we were banished, and I knew that we’d get it back, that we’d talk about it, right, as you said, peace is the option.
Foolish: Mhm.
Tommy: ...But here’s the thing, Foolish. Wilbur didn’t want to do anymore talking, he’d given up with that, because some people aren’t strong enough, alright, some people stop talking.
Tommy: ...You know the phrase “treat others how you’d want to be treated”, Foolish? /That’s a really important phrase.
Foolish: /Yeah! Yeah (nods)
Tommy: And people hear it, you hear your teachers say it, you hear it when you’re young, people don’t ever listen to it, “treat others how you’d want to be treated”. Wilbur disregarded that rule. He decided that... he wanted to be treated poorly, so he’d treat everyone else poorly.
Foolish: Why do you think that?
Tommy: *Sigh* Honestly, I…. Sometimes I don’t know, myself. (Pause). But this block here, (Gestures to TNT at Wilbur’s shrine), he used this and he blew up L’manberg and...shattered it into a million pieces. Now, Wilbur, he was a good man, he is a good man, deep inside him, alright? /But he’s been a-
Foolish: /So you’re saying there’s still redemption for him?
Tommy: Well, he’s been a good man deep inside him, but he’s been a bad guy for a very, very long time. And I know that there’s still good in him, there’s still good in everyone, really, Foolish, even if they are all assholes, and wankers, and… but-
Foolish: Do you believe in second chances?
Tommy: No, I don’t. I don’t really believe in second chances, I don’t- that’s not really a thing for me, Foolish, it’s just that… *sigh*...I believe everyone’s got a little bit of good in them. And I know that Wilbur had good in him, alright, so I won’t g-
Foolish: You said “had”?
Tommy:...Yeah, he did, because when we made this nation- although now he seems to claim- he claimed to me, Foolish, that the nation (slams fists on irl desk) we built together! *Shaky inhale* ...He claimed that it was all just a ruse for power. Now, I think that Wilbur’s just being a bad guy, alright, and that’s okay, we’re all bad guys, everyone messes up, it’s- you learn the most from your mistakes. He’s made so many mistakes, so many that have hurt so many people, but, what this is gonna be about isn’t giving him a second chance, isn't giving him a third chance, it’s not about chances, Foolish! It’s about making sure you don’t give up on the people you care about. So I know you’re still really new to this server, and I know you’ve built lots of things,
Foolish: (Nods) Yeah, yeah,
Tommy: So I know if you really care about someone, do not give up on them, Foolish, don’t give up on people, alright? /Because that’s how you lose.
Foolish: /You know, Tommy, I think I had you wrong. I think I had you wrong.
(They leave L’manberg)
Tommy: Oh, I don’t know what that means.
Foolish: Well I just, y’know, you’re a little more...mature than I thought you would be. I thought you were just a loud, obnoxious, y’know what I mean, do-what-you-want, y’know, a couple muggings here and there, but no, maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye.
Tommy: Well, I still do that, obviously, because it’s funny. And it’s fun-
Foolish: Well, *Laughs nervously* Nah, I mean- I understand…. But maybe there’s more to you, Tommy, than I thought.
Tommy: Thanks, I guess. (Begrudgingly) ..Maybe there’s more to you, too.
Foolish: Oh, there’s so much….
Tommy: Okay.
Foolish: Do you consider yourself to be the good guy or the bad guy?
Tommy: ...That really depends who you ask, doesn’t it, you know? If you ask Dream, he’d say I’m- he’d say I’m his little- I’m his little play- (shakily) his little toy, that he plays with, y’know? It doesn’t…
Tommy: *Inhale* Foolish, honestly, I used to consider myself the “good guy”, y’know, the fucken second in command, going around and going “yeah, let’s do this!” yeah, but recently… these past….
Tommy: …*Shaky breath* (Quietly) These past 6 months, or so, Foolish, everything got so much harder than it was before, but, because before it was just “us fighting the bad guys!” but it was also clear, y’know, it was all so clear,
Foolish: Yeah, nothing muddy,
Tommy: But it’s not been clear for so long, alright? It wasn’t “these are the bad guys, these are the good guys,” now it’s, “he’s doing this, and that makes him a bit worse, that makes him a bit-”, it all got so fucking complicated, so… I don’t know. It depends on who you ask, but… *sigh*
Foolish: I dunno, it all seems strange, cause, just hearing from others, and y’know, learning a little bit, it seems like you’ve been… the hero, you’ve been, the villain, the conqueror, the savior, and even now I still have no idea what you exactly are.
Tommy: Well, that’s up to you to decide, isn’t it? I’m just a… I dunno, these days Foolish, I’m a little weaker than I used to be. I’m not who I want to be, but… *long sigh*
Foolish: I’m gonna be honest with you, Tommy, that’s the same case for me as well.
Tommy: Oh, really?
Foolish: Yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Tommy: Here’s the thing, Foolish, unlike you, I don’t really have a choice. I have to try and be who I want to be, ‘cause if I don’t… very bad things are going to happen on this server. And now Wilbur’s back, Foolish, I can’t… quite frankly, no one can risk that. So I don’t really have a choice. I’ll just keep on mining, I’ll and keep on pogchamping.
Foolish: You’re just gonna pog through the pain?
Tommy: I try to, and then Twitch deleted the Pog emote.
(They talk about Pogchamp and Lore Man for the rest of the stream [a very funny bit])
Ends at 3:03:23
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Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper (2004)
If you’ve spent any time in the online Barbie fandom, you’ll know that this movie is generally regarded as the best one, and that’s for a good reason. It’s not my personal favorite (another movie wins out because of sheer nostalgia), but it’s genuinely great, and I’d almost recommend you just (re)watch it now before reading this.
This movie is an adaptation of Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper (which I was absolutely tickled to find out in my research was basically historical real-person fanfiction about Edward VI). I’ve never read the original story, but if Wikipedia is to be believed, it’s probably the loosest adaptation yet and mostly uses the concept of “royalty and poor person switch places because they look identical” and a tiny bit of the class commentary. Maybe I’d complain more similarly to my Rapunzel review if I’d read the original story, but for now I’m not planning to.
The two main characters are Princess Anneliese and the seamstress Erika, who look identical apart from their hair colors and a crown-shaped birthmark on Anneliese’s shoulder. While Anneliese struggles with her royal duties and lack of freedom, Erika has to fight against poverty and her cruel employer, and the two bond when they meet one day in the village. However, Princess Anneliese is kidnapped by the royal advisor Preminger’s henchmen, who has been siphoning the kingdom off of its money, and who is afraid that her engagement to King Dominick means that he won’t be able to take over the throne. He hopes that “rescuing” Anneliese sometime after her disappearance will make the Queen give him her hand in marriage, making him the next king. The Princess’s tutor, Julian, suspects foul play, and asks Erika to pretend to be the Princess while he investigates her disappearance. It seems to work fine, King Dominick and the disguised Erika are falling for each other and Anneliese manages to escape from her captors. However, the latter is found again and imprisoned in the mines, together with Julian, and Preminger exposes Erika. He manages to convince the Queen that the Princess must have been killed, and that they should get married at this moment to ensure the kingdom’s future. All is well, however, when Erika flees the dungeon with Dominick’s help and Anneliese and Julian manage to escape and prove that Preminger was the mastermind behind everything. Erika can pursue her career as a singer, the kingdom is saved from bankruptcy through gems Anneliese found in the mines and the movie ends with a double wedding between Anneliese and Julian as well as Erika and Dominick.
She really just found this thing and went “Damn… I can make a metaphor out of this.”
This movie is all-around great. It’s the first musical in the franchise and you can tell they went all-out. If you hold a gun to my head I might choose How Could I Refuse as my favorite song, but really, they’re all bops. Both of the Barbie stand-ins and their love interests get to have personalities this time around, and I like that all of their passions help out in some way or another during the movie, even if the one for King Dominick was a little weak. I even like the animal sidekicks! Midas could get a little exhausting at times, but Wolfy is probably in my Top 3 of Barbie animal sidekicks, and Serafina is certainly tolerable. I probably don’t even have to mention it anymore, but the animation has also improved again from the last movie. Frankly, I almost feel like I don’t actually have to talk about this movie for so long. Everyone knows it’s one of the best.
One of the common complaints I see pop up about this movie is that Anneliese’s problems and Erika’s problems really can’t be compared, and before rewatching this movie for the post, I actually wanted to join in on that as well. I mean, a princess is objectively much better off than an indentured servant. That being said, I actually kinda have to defend this movie in this regard, since I think it’s much more self-aware about it than people give it credit for. It’s pretty clearly shown that Anneliese is somewhat removed from the plights of the common people; she’s distraught to see how people seem to be suffering when she visits the village, and she doesn’t even know what “indentured servant” means before Erika tells her. When I Am a Girl Like You starts, Erika is the first one to claim that they’re alike, and Anneliese actually first rejects that notion before she joins in after Erika insists.
Additionally, we shouldn’t forget that even though Anneliese is better off than Erika, her situation still really sucks. She’s still being traded off to a complete stranger for money, essentially being stripped of her personhood, but is willing to do it without many complaints because of her responsibilities. And while we know that King Dominik is a good guy, she didn’t at the time. For all she knows, he could’ve been some kind of abusive asshole and she would’ve been forced to do nothing except shut up, look pretty and occasionally have a child for the rest of her life.
I generally don’t like the concept of first-world problems, and telling a person that their problems don’t matter because someone somewhere has it worse, even if that’s the truth, is basically the least productive thing in the world. So while there is a leftist in me that wants to cynically talk about the inherent problems with the concept of royalty and how the workers in the mines at the end were probably exploited, I also have to acknowledge that this is, you know, a kids’ movie, not political commentary.
That being said, it does seem like the prince discovering the suffering of the common people seems to be the main theme of The Prince and the Pauper, and I definitely would have appreciated if this movie went a bit more in on it, but considering how weird some of this royalty stuff is gonna get in these movies, I’m not gonna complain about some of the most class consciousness this franchise is going to show in a movie.
I guess we could also discuss the fact that Preminger, fan favorite villain and genuinely very campy fun, made a plan that includes marrying a girl he’s probably known since she was a child, but, uh… let’s not. I’m pretty sure he had the hots for money and power rather than her anyway.
Can’t deny that he’s fun to watch.
What else is there even left to say? I know a lot of people ship Anneliese and Erika, and they do have great chemistry, even if they don’t interact all that much, but to be honest I always felt a little weird about romance when the story revolves around them looking identical. I don’t think it’s problematic or anything, because how would you even argue that, I just personally find it a little strange; I couldn’t date a blonde copy of me. Plus I actually like the love interests this time around. I’ve seen the concept of an OT4 thrown around, which is certainly intriguing, but for now I don’t plan on entering the shipping part of the fandom anyway.
There definitely were some little kids who completely accidentally read this as the girls getting married though.
Sorry that this review is so short in comparison to the first two, especially after we’ve just had the extra short Swan Lake one, but there’s nothing I can say that hasn’t really been said yet. Watch this movie! Or wait for my next review, in which we’ll tackle the first franchise-inside-the-franchise attempt of Fairytopia.
#barbie#barbie as the princess and the pauper#barbie movies#barbie movie review#princess and the pauper
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Just Another One
Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’
Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)
Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing
Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.
Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤
When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.
I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.
And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.
“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.
She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all.
“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.
In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.
Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.
She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.
And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?
* * *
“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.
“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“
I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.
That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.
“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“
I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.
“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret.
Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?
“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.
He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”
That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.
“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.
“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.
My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.
“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“
Before I can reply, he sends me another message.
“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“
I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”
I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else.
I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.
I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.
He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’
AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?
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Maybe something to do with another coops live stream they’re hilarious😂
These livestreams are basically my favorite fics to write and I’m so glad you all enjoy them! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!
“Hey, Instagram, we’re back!” Sirius smiled so wide his dimples appeared as Remus sat down and wrapped an arm around his waist. “It’s been a while since we did a livestream and we’ve been looking forward to it for a while, so let’s get started.”
“First question,” Remus said, leaning forward a bit. “Who kills the spiders? I do.”
Sirius wrinkled his nose. “We tried to do a catch and release policy, but they always end up coming back. Who is the better dancer? I don’t know, honey, who is the better dancer?”
Remus rolled his eyes and gave him a playful nudge. “Rub it in, why don’t you.”
“It’s me,” Sirius said with a smug grin. “Lionsfan65 wants to know if being married to your best friend is like having a 24/ 7 sleepover.”
“Oh, that’s a good one.” Remus bit his lip. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, some nights we stay up late to watch movies and other nights we stay up late doing taxes, but it’s awesome.”
“That’s so accurate,” Sirius laughed. “We should build a taxes pillow fort sometime.”
“We totally should. That would make it so much more bearable.”
“We could have popcorn!”
“Hell yeah!” They high-fived, and Remus turned back to the phone. “Do waiters ever ask if we’re splitting the check?”
Sirius groaned. “All the time. We were on our honeymoon and literally holding hands over the table, and the waitress asked if we were on a ‘guys’ trip’.”
“She also said that our wives must be glad to have the weekend to themselves,” Remus added with a grimace. “It was one of those awkward ‘thanks, but that’s my husband’ moments.”
Sirius scrolled through the incoming questions, then burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck, I knew I missed doing these for a reason.”
“What? Which one is it?”
He took another moment to catch his breath before tapping the screen. “To Sirius: no offense, but your husband is really hot. Why would I take offense to that, fernbaby? It’s true!”
“Who sent that in? Thank you, fernbaby, that’s so nice!” Remus blushed a bit, but his smile turned to confusion as he read the next one. “Who wears the pants?”
“Right now, both of us. On a really good day, neither of us,” Sirius said easily. “Honey, someone thinks I’m an ‘alpha’.”
Remus tilted his head. “A what?”
“An ‘alpha’, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”
“Seeing as we’re not werewolves, neither of us are an ‘alpha’.” Remus did air quotes around the word and raised an eyebrow. “Plus, the guy that originally coined those terms for wolf packs later came forward and said his experiment was unreliable and that he had proved wolves work in hierarchies based on age.”
“That’s science, bitches,” Sirius said with a grin. “Aw, this one is sweet! What are our nicknames for each other?”
“I call you ‘baby’ all the time, but ���honey’ is a close second.”
“Yeah, there aren’t a lot of nicknames for my name. Um, I call you ‘sweetheart’, ‘mon loup’, ‘mon amour’, ‘Re’…now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I called you by your full name.”
“I hope not,” Remus laughed. “You only do that when I’m in trouble.”
“True. Oh, this one is for you.”
Remus scooted closer to him. “To Remus: what’s the hardest part about moving from PT to player? Ugh, everything. If I had to choose one thing, it would be having to step back from helping the guys when they get hurt in a game. Hestia still has to remind me to let her do her job sometimes, even though she’s the most amazing PT in the world and I have total trust in her. It’s pretty tough seeing your friends in pain and not being allowed to help them anymore.”
There was a beat of quiet. “Well, that got morbid fast,” Sirius said drily, making Remus snort. “This is promising: pick a Disney princess you each identify with.”
“Should we switch, and each say each other’s?”
Sirius gave him a look. “Do you even know mine?”
“Of course I know yours!” Remus said indignantly. “It’s Rapunzel!”
“What?”
“It totally is! You have a crush on Flynn Rider and her chameleon is named Pascal!”
Sirius hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay, fair. I was going to say Elsa. Yours is easy, though.”
“Are you sure?”
“If it’s not Belle, you’re lying to yourself.”
“It is, don’t worry,” Remus laughed. “Everyone in the comment section guessed that. Great job, guys! This is an easy one: what was our last fight about?”
“Which Disney princess I relate to more. Do we have the same taste in men?” Sirius stifled a laugh. “I think this one answers itself.”
Remus gestured vaguely. “Seeing as we look completely different, no. I’m into tall, athletic, heart of gold types.”
Sirius put his best poker face on. “Librarians are really my thing.”
“Okay, you know what—”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he laughed, tugging Remus closer to kiss his cheek despite the mock-scowl on his face. The phone screen lit up with multicolored hearts and they turned back to it after a chaste kiss on the lips. “Your turn.”
“Librarian,” Remus scoffed around a smile. “Why did we keep our wedding a secret? Well, we didn’t. Everyone knew it was happening.”
“We didn’t tell the media the details for a few reasons. Number one, we wanted a small ceremony with just friends and family. Number two, both of us are tired of people’s noses in our business. Number three, it was really, really funny watching them speculate.” He counted down on his fingers, looking rather self-satisfied. “And it worked. It was perfect.”
“Plus, we planned it in, like, six weeks. There weren’t a lot of concrete details to actually give people. Someone asked one for you, baby.”
“To me…do I get along with Re’s parents? Oh, I adore them. They’re amazing people and I love seeing them when they visit.”
A slow grin spread over Remus’ face. “Oh, I love this next question. Loops, we all know you’re weak for the French accent—you’re not wrong—but Cap, do you like his accent, too?”
Sirius lit up. “I do! It’s so cute! It comes out when he’s tired or excited and I just—” He smiled and drummed his hands on his knees, going a bit pink. “I dunno. It’s cute. Alright, let’s move on before I embarrass myself even more. Who’s the better cook or baker?”
“You are adorable,” Remus said, his cheeks vibrant red. “To answer the question, I’m the better cook, but I can’t bake for shit. Sirius makes brownies like you’ve never tasted before, though.”
“I’m practicing.”
“What’s the best prank I’ve ever pulled on Sirius?” Remus laughed under his breath. “Sirius and Pots teamed up to fuck with my gear one practice, so I spent the next day and a half playing the circus theme song whenever they walked into a room together.”
“Ah, fuck, I forgot about that,” Sirius muttered. “And then you got Finn to sing it, too.”
“I didn’t do anything, he started that himself.”
“He’s so annoying,” Sirius said fondly. “Alright, last question. Remus, was it hard to adjust to having more disposable income?”
Remus hummed in thought for a moment, resting his chin on his hand. “Definitely. I am so, so grateful to have this opportunity, but it’s always the little things that remind me. Like, plane tickets to go see my family in Wisconsin don’t have to be a big expense anymore. It’s been a really interesting adjustment for sure. Is that all we have time for?”
“I think so.” They waved to the camera one last time. “Thanks for joining us, and thanks for the great questions! Go Lions!”
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— Dabi didn’t want you in the slightest, but he’d be damned if anyone touched you without knowing that you belonged to him
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pairing: yandere!dabi x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, nsfw, gorey (blood and puss), branding, yandere!dabi, semi-public sex, consented sex that turns into nonconish, spitting, heavy degradation, hardcore, sadist!dabi, mindbreak
word count: 5,588
a/n: im so terribly sorry for being so late with kinktober. my keyboard is super fucked up and I had a crazy busy weekend. please do not read this if you are easily offended it got a bit crazy lol ;-; well at least for what i typically write sorry
kinktober day 17 main kink: branding | kinktober masterlist
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Dabi didn’t care about you.
As you lay on the broken, dirty mattress (was this even a mattress?) that belonged to who knows who and was in this alleyway for who knows how long, there was no telling if you wouldn’t contract some form of an STD just by laying here in your filth. You wanted to sit up. You needed to get out of this sketchy alleyway just to continue the day. But your body hurts, everything hurts.
But the tears in your eyes had long dried out. The blood, cum, spit, puss, and drool on the bed making for an unpleasant, pitiful sight beneath and on you.
But I guess there was no reason for anyone to try and take you, even like that.
There was already a warning, a brand for anyone to fucking try and take you from the person who owned you.
His name pulsed on every throbbing, bubbling white-hot pain on your body. His hands and name forever scarred and branded on your skin.
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
But you couldn’t even cry as a black cat with piercing blue eyes landed on the mattress centimeters from your face. It was too much.
And in the middle of the alleyway, your eyes shut, and a painful unconscious slammed through you. Consciousness no longer your friend as you ended there, ass up, gaping, cum splattering hole available for everyone to see.
It didn’t matter, you clearly belonged to Dabi, and anyone who tried to take you would be consumed with a horrid fate.
.
..
.
Dabi’s mouth was pulled back into an angry, unamused snarl.
Typically speaking, the black-haired Frankenstein of a man could look more apathetic than the gods of apathy themselves, but if you bugged him just enough, things could sink under his skin faster than you could run. But today, he seemed to have every annoying thing happen to him event after event so that he was practically simmering with putrid anger.
It had started when you had left his room in the morning louder than he liked. You both had begun a sexual relationship of sorts. As much as the League was intent and focused on driving out the hero society, libidos and sexual needs could hardly be ignored. Especially as Dabi’s own libido grew with the more success he had, the closer he was to achieve his own goal. It made sense that he and you began this relationship. He wasn’t going to touch any of the guys in the group, not to mention the fact they were about as ugly as he was, so that meant he’d have to potentially stare down at a nasty face moaning and screaming. That wasn’t going to happen. Toga was a psycho bitch that Dabi could never understand, and with her stupid stabbing addiction, he wasn’t about to trust her near his genitals.
You had been a late joiner in the group, some dumb, weak, quirkless little bitch.
Dabi had no idea why Shigaraki had ever allowed you to join in the first place.
You added absolutely nothing to the group.
Being quirkless meant that you were a liability in any type of fight they got into because you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. You threw a mean punch, and you had been training with Toga in the weird-ass fighting style of hers, but it was stupid, utterly pointless because as long as Dabi and others possessed the ability to kill you without needing you near, you were a walking target.
You were also a terrible medic. Whenever the group would return with serious and not so serious injuries, you would scream, panic, and apply bandages terribly. It was so bad that Dabi would rather die of infection than have your blubbering form try to get anywhere near his cuts and burns.
You were a horrible liar too. Couldn’t send you into any of the Pro Hero bases or UA in an attempt to gather more information to help the group's efforts. Toga had merely transformed into a random citizen without you knowing, and your ability to be suave was a joke.
But one day, Dabi figured out why exactly Shigaraki decided to let you in, why you were someone worth letting live. He had gone to the bar for a simple drink. His head throbbing due to the fight he had gotten into while recruiting for the League. But what he came to see in that bar was that you were in the bar with Shigaraki and Kurogiri.
He looked at you as you were on your knees on the barstool. Your breasts swelling over that stupid tanktop of yours, your dumb ass shaking like a damn dog as you talked excitedly to Shigaraki. That, for whatever reason, bugged Dabi. The tinge of color on his stupid leader’s ears and cheeks also went noticed by Dabi, and suddenly as you grabbed onto Shigaraki’s shoulders, it all made perfect sense.
You were here to be made as a whore.
Dabi ended up leaving the bar without getting his drink after all that day.
But he had caught you skipping to your assigned room, and he blocked your way, his hand shoved into his pockets as you looked down at your wide eyes.
“So that’s the role you’ll play in the world of no heroes,” Dabi spoke, his lips pulling into a lazy smirk, warmth flooding his cold skin when your own face seemed twisted with confusion and worry.
“I’m not playing any role?” you speak slowly, obviously confused, but Dabi doesn’t dwell on the confusion in your eyes or the way you step backward away from him. He follows you, stalking your every move until you’re backed against the door of his room, your doe eyes large and practically screaming for help, which only seemed to excite Dabi. You wouldn’t be finding a hero in this organization. No, you either learned how to swim, drown, or take everyone down with you.
“Oh, so you’re not playing any games here?” Dabi asks, his hand slamming against the door right by your head, his head tilting as he leans in close to your face. He can basically breathe the anxiety spilling from your veins, festering, and throbbing underneath your skin as you find yourself unable to speak. “You joined our little group knowing that Shigaraki wanted to fuck you? Use you as the willing whore that you are?”
The fear drained from your eyes, and anger blazed instead, and for some reason, that only made Dabi more excited. He pressed up closer to you, the hardness of his cock, unable to be ignored as he pressed his swelling length to your hip.
“I’m not here to be Shigaraki’s whore,” you growled, your lips pulled back into a fearsome growl, but to Dabi, knowing the stupid, weak quirkless bitch that you were, made you look like some angry dumb puppy. “I’ve been just as wronged by this world as you have. Just because I didn’t burn off all my skin to prove I don’t fit in doesn’t mean I don’t have scars too.”
Dabi laughed, the smell of heat rising from his skin as he couldn’t help but display his power, couldn’t help but to warn you just who was capable of the most immense damage.
“Burn me,” you snapped, your nose nearly brushing against his. “Prove my fucking point.”
Dabi let out a throaty hum, the feeling of your stomach shifting against his tented pants, only serving to arouse him more.
“Trust me, pup, I don’t have all my skin burned off,” Dabi couldn’t help but ignore your own issues of being upset as his mouth crashed against yours.
That night, Dabi realized that maybe you did serve this group in two ways, albeit one was much, much more important than the other.
One, the lesser important reason: you brought in a new demographic. A new viewpoint of people who had been hurt by heroes and civilians who looked to All Might like a god. Quirkless people, and people with quirks that practically made them worthless, were seen as inferior because they weren’t unique. They could never be like All Might. And for that, they were seen as less, a group that deserved to die and were discriminated against for reasons far beyond their control.
Two, the more important reason: you were Dabi’s fuckhole.
This sexually frustrated, anger-fueled sex the two of you had was more than ideal, really. Dabi loved to fuck you whenever he needed, whenever he wanted. He took you anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Each time he grew bolder and bolder until he was fucking you during a meeting, fucking you while you were in a car with everyone, making your way to the next destination.
He could care less about your whining pleas to only fuck in a room where no one could see, couldn’t care if you thought the alleyway was dirty, and the scent of dead burning bodies made your head spin. You were a quirkless fuckhole, and you would do as he told.
But Dabi would never admit you were his.
No, he would not.
Not now, not ever.
But there was something stupidly irritating and annoying hearing barely useful members of the now Paranormal Liberation Front. Everyone was obsessed with you, the useless quirkless girl who was weak and needed protection. Everyone loved the way your tits bounced when you hopped around excitedly, loved the way your ass shook when you were sitting at a bar because, for whatever damn reason, you could never sit on your fucking ass.
So, that’s where we find Dabi. His mouth pulled back into an unamused, angry snarl as you talked with some nameless member that Dabi thought was better off dead than as some deadweight help.
“You can’t expect y/l/n-chan to be so kind to you when you’re quite the asshole to her, Dabi,” Compress chided Dabi as he took a smooth, slow drink from his sake. “You pester her daily, and from what the rumors tell me, harass her often enough that I’m surprised she hasn’t taken your face off.”
“She’s too fucking weak for that shit,” Dabi snapped, his eyes narrowing when your hand placed itself on the nameless shits arm. “She can’t do shit; that’s why she’s acting like a shallow whore. She’ll let anyone fuck her as long as it means she gets protected.”
Compress raised his eyebrow, his face not letting anything on as he slowly placed his glass down.
“Y/l/n-chan sleeps around?”
Dabi actually felt the heat rising from his skin. He didn’t know if you were, and the thought of knowing that someone other than him was fucking your tight little pussy after he did irritates him much more than he’d like.
“I don’t fucking know, you’re the one telling me about fucking rumors. You tell me.”
“From what I hear, she doesn’t give in to anyone, despite the obvious flirting,” Compress shrugged when Dabi’s eyes locked on him in bewildered disbelief. “Why do you care, Dabi? You’re typically so aloof and annoyingly stoic. What about y/l/n-chan makes you so temperamental?”
Dabi felt his spine stiffen at those words, the inquisitive yet entirely sharp words that gutted him from the inside out. Dabi didn’t care for you. He knew he didn’t. If you dropped dead in the middle of the floor in three seconds, he knew he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t mourn you. He might mourn the warm body he fucked whenever he needed, sure, but not you, never just you.
He blinked.
He didn’t need to like you for you to be his.
Heroes were what was wrong with society, but relationships were also what was wrong with people. The twisting desire for equality and equity between two different people when it should never be as such, to begin with. Dabi was powerful. You were quirkless and weak. Dabi held power, he was the one who should be deciding what you should be able to do, what you can’t, and something in the depths of his mind finally clicked.
You were his.
You belonged to Dabi.
You were nothing without Dabi.
The laugh that poured from your lips and the man next to you, that Dabi swore he could hear right now, suddenly made sense as to why it bothered him. You don’t entertain or try to use things that don’t belong to you. You use only what is yours, and anyone who tries to touch what belongs to you is allowed capital punishment.
But Dabi, against better judgment, wasn’t a trigger happy idiot.
No, he was aware of the things idiots needed to see in order to back off. To understand that some things were there for free, and other things were already taken. He laughed, grabbing the rest of Compress’s sake and downing it before slamming it onto the table and standing up, ignoring the angered curses from Compress as he stalked toward you.
There weren’t many things in life that made Dabi lose control of his emotions, but knowing that you were out in the open without a clear mark that you were his was slowly making its way on that list.
“Let’s go,” Dabi says, his voice perfectly calm despite the heat blazing off his every muscle. His hand was wrapped around your wrist, gripping your skin tightly as he tugged you from the barstool.
It didn’t take much for you to fall off the stool, your stupid way of sitting on bar stools allowed significant imbalance, and Dabi knew that a sharp tug is all it took to have you stumbling off.
“I was talking with Trumpet!” you cried, unable to keep from stumbling after Dabi, your eyes focused on Trumpet.
“I was speaking with y/n, if you would allow us to finish our—” Trumpet also piped up, his hands reaching to button up his suit as he stood.
“Shut up,” Dabi spoke coldly, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he took in his gaze.
With that, Dabi continued to walk away, dragging your protesting form behind him with every great stride he took. Dabi didn’t know where he was walking, only knowing that he was ignoring every question and angry demand that filtered out of your mouth like white noise. He took sharp turns, disappearing into the alleys that he knew all too well until he found the spot he was looking for.
You were panting heavily when you suddenly slammed into Dabi’s back, exhaustion already setting in your bones from the awkward run you had to maintain in order to keep up with Dabi. You weren’t an idiot; you knew that Dabi wanted to fuck the moment that he appeared behind you with a wave of hot air. But you hadn’t expected it to be while you were in the middle of a conversation with Trumpet; while he was an asshole, Dabi always let you finish your conversations before taking you to fuck. But not this time.
Which worried you.
Both of you had fucked the entire night last night. Your body had been abused in a million exciting ways as Dabi unleashed his libido onto you, and you had kept up swimmingly. Typically, a fuckfest like that was enough to satisfy him for a few days, two days at least, so to have him back on you within twelve hours was a bit of a shock.
The sun was still in the sky, after all.
“You really know how to piss me the fuck off, y/n,” Dabi spoke, his tone and words ice-cold despite the blazing heat of his body. “Why is it that you think you have the right to flounder yourself off like some common bitch?”
You freeze. Oh? Was he jealous?
You had no time to even open your mouth to ask, most likely having taken too long to answer his question because his hand flared with heat, and you couldn’t help the scream that ripped through your throat. Tearing your hand from Dabi, you looked down at your burnt, throbbing skin. Your eyes widened, pained tears in your eyes as Dabi turned around, his eyes blank, cold, lifeless.
“I’m not sure if I ever made this clear before,” Dabi asked, stalking toward you, and you whimper, holding your tender wrist to your chest as you feel something make contact with the back of your calves. “I don’t care about you. If you were to disappear the next day and never return, I wouldn’t care. Maybe I’d miss your pretty little pussy, but other than that… nothing. But you need to understand something for as long as we’re together and for how long we’re apart: you’re mine, y/n, just mine.”
Your eyes are wide, terrified of the monster before you. This wasn’t the Dabi that fucked you every night before this, this was someone else, and sour acid hits the back of your throat.
His lips are on you without hesitation. The biting coldness of his staples on his cheeks and chin burn against your skin, and his hot hands are against the cold skin of your waist, and you gasp loudly. His tongue invades your mouth immediately, and you whimper, feeling how much colder his tongue was in comparison to yours. But you know what it’s like to share a bed with Dabi, you know that he knows of your bodies every twitch and innate desires, and like a trained dog, you cave to him despite the painful tears dripping down your cheeks.
His kisses are much like his fire, hot, encompassing, all-consuming until there was nothing left except the smell and taste of ashes and smoke. You fell to his needs immediately, the hot, swollen throb in your wrist going ignored as you kissed him back, wanting to taste the smoke on his tongue. So as the heat of his body evaporated the tears off your cheeks, you caved into his kisses.
Your wrist throbbed as your hands reached up and curled into his hair.
But the biting possessiveness of his body was all too apparent to you as his teeth buried into your tongue and sucked on it harshly. You gasped, your body arching into his touch as you opened your closed eyes to peer into his piercing lifeless eyes.
You moaned, body trembling with the wild desire to make him feel good, to make yourself feel good. But you fell, his teeth letting go of your tongue and his calloused, burnt hands pushing you onto the object beneath you. The mildewy mold scent of the mattress beneath you burned into your nose, somehow damp even though there had been no rain for weeks.
Dabi was on you immediately, his body between your legs, lips simmering against your mouth once more, and his hand on your throat. His staples scraped against your chin, the cold metal scratching into your skin until it hurt. You can’t recall the last time he put this horrible power on his grips, you felt your head beginning to spin with the slow, dizzying throb of losing all oxygen, but Dabi took no mind to your struggles; in fact, it seemed to be enjoying it.
“Come on, doll, kiss me back like you actually fucking mean it,” Dabi snapped, his hands burning even more against your throat, and the other made contact with your pants. Your clothes were burnt to singe, the smell of burning fabric had long been a scent you had been familiar with, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to cry about the clothes he just burnt off your body. “Stop acting like a little bitch,” he growls, obviously noticing your shift in character, “be a good doll, and do as you’re told.”
Despite the burning, stabbing feeling in your skin, and the way you couldn’t keep the silent tears from stopping you from doing as you were told. You kiss him back as you once had before, your jaw dropping and your tongue reaching to meet his.
Dabi growled, clearly liking the suddenly positive response from you, and you trembled against his hold. But, soon, a new scent filled your nose, a unique scent that aligned with the painful burning of flesh.
“You see, I don’t like it when things that belong to me don’t do what I want. I especially hate having to share things that are mine. Don’t get cocky, sweet thing, you’re my precious doll, but I don’t give a single shit about you,” Dabi spat against your lips, his mouth speaking against yours, and his eyes staring straight into your eyes.
Or they would have been should you not have been in such trifling, nauseating pain as Dabi’s hand burned against your skin. His quirk sizzled against your skin, creating a perfect brand of his hand on your throat, but the pain was immeasurable, horrifically painful as you wailed against his mouth.
“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” you screamed, your hands fisting and pathetically slamming against Dabi’s shoulders, pleading to be shown mercy.
But Dabi merely looked down at you with sadistic disinterest, relishing in the way the smell of your burning skin wafted into his nose until he let go.
You tried to scream, tried to cry to whatever god may be looking down at you to come and save you, but you found you couldn’t. The burnt, pussing bubbles of infected flesh bubbling on your throat were tight on your sweat-slicked skin, and every small movement made it feel worse.
“There we go!” Dabi grins again, his eyes wild and almost demented as he flips you over so that your naked ass is hanging out in the air, able to be manipulated to his will. The tears in your eyes were still streaming down your face, intermixing with the blood and popped blisters on your skin as Dabi pressed you into a position that would make things easier for him to fuck you in. “I can’t fuck you when your cunt is buried in this box.”
You make a noise, a small noise that sends a powerful wave of nausea through you as Dabi separates your legs and curls his fingers within your slick cunt.
“Glad to see that your little pussy is still wet as fuck,” Dabi groans, his fingers scissoring deep within you, stretching out your hole until you pathetically cries into the mildew scented mattress. Your body pulsated with a different stimulus; the pain in your throat still burned and was feeling itchy. The thud in your wrist hurt to move. But the pleasure of his fingers buried deep in your cunt made your eyes cross and your mouth pant in the overcoming sensation of your pussy being tended to.
“D-Dabi,” you manage to croak out, the tears running down your cheeks, once more intermixing with the thick blood and puss on the burn. Your voice was disgustingly hoarse, sounding akin to someone with smoker's lungs. “P-Please.”
“P-Please what?” Dabi mocked, his hips grinding against your exposed, pert ass. You could feel the hard cock in his pants, the shift in the fabric as he dropped his own pants and underwear to rut his piercing covered cock through your asscheeks. “Don’t think about me fucking your ass, you dirty fucking bitch, I’m not gonna do that weird shit.”
“N-No!” you whimper, your unburnt hand reaching behind you to grab onto the fabric of his coat that he refused to remove. Somehow, the movement made the throbbing flesh on your throat hurt more, and you swallowed the rising bile in your throat, gagging. “D-Dabi, f-fuck!”
“You want something better than my fingers?” he continued to question, uncaring that he knew exactly what you meant by those words. He was too focused on the way your walls were much tighter around his fingers right now, a vice trap that made him both eager and unwilling to shove his cock deep within your womb just yet.
You mewl in frustration, your hips shifting against his intruding fingers, desperate to get the coldness of his pierced cock within you already. The pain was still very much alive, but the pleasurable build in your core was quickly outweighing your mood.
“Oh, I get it,” Dabi sighs, his fingers exiting your throbbing, soaked cunt, both his hands slamming onto your ass, gripping the flesh with all the strength he had. “You want another fucking brand. You want the world to know who you fucking belong to, who fucking owns you until the day you die.”
The words send a panicked throb in your stomach, but before you could protest, before you could make note that this was not something you wanted, his fingers grew hot. Hotter and hotter, they grew until the blue of his flame felt like scorching white heat under your skin. Impossibly unbearable pain and branding scarred into your skin as you’re able to ignore the resulting pain in your throat to scream so loudly, your voice bounces off the alley walls multiple times.
You can’t see what he did, but you can tell that his handprints are scarred to your ass; you can feel the puss-filled blisters rising from the skin as Dabi continues to massage the skin as if it was a bruise and not some second-degree burn. You sobbed into the mattress, your face buried into the ugly fabric, snot, and tears pooling onto the surface until you were choking on your spit and rising bile.
Before you could even adjust to the pain, your mind pounding and reeling with the stinging, melting sensation on your ass, something thick, cold, and pierced rams into your throbbing cunt. Your body lurches forward with the initial thrust, your body, despite the pain, jumping from the shock of Dabi’s cock entering you.
It’s a familiar feeling, a feeling you loved, but you can’t focus on the sense of the many balled piercing gliding against your ruffled walls. The extra stimulus pointedly ignored because the pain in your ass was currently outweighing the pleasure he was giving you. But Dabi doesn't care. Why would he care? You’re his doll, and right now, he’s in heaven. Your cunt was blistering hot against his cock and oh so fucking tight. Dabi knew why he was so obsessed with you, and it started with that tight pussy of yours that could milk him dry without even trying.
Dabi smiled, his hands raising off the branded handprints on your ass that were caked with already horribly forming scabs, blisters, pus, and blood. He felt giddy seeing your ass, covered with trembles and sweat, covered with his handprint. There was no denying you were his, no denying that you were here to serve the League as nothing except his fuck doll. No one would want you now that you had three of his handprints branded on you, and not even he could love someone with as ugly scars on your body.
So, with the stammering, choking cries that poured from your mouth for Dabi to stop because his rutting hips slamming against your newly branded ass was too much, Dabi let his head drop back, flooded with the sense of elation and euphoria.
You were his.
Finally his.
Only his.
“It hurts!” you screamed, your hips shifting in your feeble attempt to escape his barbaric hold. “It hurts, Dabi!”
“If it hurts so much, why the fuck is your cunt so wet?” Dabi mocked, his hips slamming into you with deeper, faster strokes. “Why the fuck are you moving your hips like a desperate whore if it hurts?”
You howl in your pain crossed pleasure, the tears soaking your face, and the mattress seemingly flowing from you without end in sight. Much like the squelching slick in your cunt that grows louder and louder and the Jacob's ladder on his cock pressed further and further into your warm velvet walls.
“Because it hurts!” you screech, your fingers tearing into the mattress, your body spasming from the overload of sensation. Your mind slips through the cracks of consciousness, and the pain begins to override your mind.
“Oi, oi, oi!” Dabi yells, his hand coming down to slap the blistering brand on your ass, completely waking you back up. “Don’t you dare knock out on me, doll. I might call you a doll, but I don’t want you to be some fucking dumbass ragdoll when you’re on my cock!”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your eyes crossing and your vision spinning with the onslaught of sharp, stinging pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Mm,” Dabi hums, clearly pleased with your apology. “Seems like after so long, you’ve finally accepted your useless, pathetic, quirkless ass can’t do shit.”
So, his hands shift from your ass and move onto your hips, enjoying the way your skin is so soft, so easily bruisable beneath his hold. Your body seems to block out the pain he brings to your body and only accept the lulling pleasure of it all. The noises of his drilling cock into your sobbing cunt is loud, the sopping noises loud and soft in both your ears. Dabi has half a mind to wonder if anyone would walk by the alleyway, hear your desperate, pathetic noises and call the cops.
He smiles lazily as his cock brushes against the wall of your cervix. Would he kill you in front of them all and then them? Maybe he would make you beg for his cock more in front of the officers and kill them all should they be aroused. He laughed as his cock slammed into your cervix, the squealing pleasure ripping from your throat at the feeling, and Dabi felt light.
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
How pathetic would that be?! Heroes getting aroused as he fucked such a poor girl in front of them! Of course, they’d have to be killed because that would be immoral of them, and not to mention that once anyone got a lustful eye on, you deserved to die.
You were his.
Only his.
“Who does this pussy belong to?!” Dabi snaps, his hand grabbing your hair by the roots. “Who?”
“Dabi!” you laugh giddily, your face still streaming with tears, your lips bloody and bitten raw. “Dabi! Dabi! Dabi!”
Dabi growls in his satisfying pleasure, his hand throwing your head back onto the mattress, and his hands press onto your shoulders as he begins to thrust faster, harder, more power into your clenching tight cunt. His fingers tear into your skin, breaking the skin and watching the ruby red liquid ooze from your skin.
That causes you to scream, your face twisted in slight pain, but Dabi presses onward.
He has one last thing to do.
“Such a good fuck doll, don’t you think you deserve to be rewarded for being such a good fuck? For having such a sweet, tight pussy?” Dabi asks, his teeth biting against the nape of your neck as he continued to fuck you until fluids were beginning to seep from your cunt. “I’m going to make sure that everyone in the fucking world knows you belong to me, that you are my precious fucking doll and no one else's, okay?”
You keen loudly, your body shivering underneath his, and your head nodding, your tongue unable to produce any more words.
Dabi raised his finger, the tip blazing with a small, concentrated blue flame, and he makes contact with the skin on your back.
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
His name is written repetitively on your back. The layers of skin on your back wholly burned off so that the twitching pink of your skin muscles are shown. No blood comes from there.
Dabi laughs, delighted with how fucking perfect you look with his name on your back, and you seemed to have flipped out of your broken mindset and shoved back into the horrors of the pain your body was experiencing. You gagged loudly, screaming and twitching with immense pain, but Dabi continues.
“You don’t mean shit to me, though, doll; I hope you know that!” Dabi snickers, his cock throbbing when he felt the familiar milking sensation of your cunt as you finally came around him. He continued to ram his cock into you, savagely uncaring of how you begged from him to stop, pathetically asked for him to heed. “You’re nothing more than my cumslut, nothing more than some stupid sex doll for me to use. And now you’re completely ruined! No one will want you with my brand all over you! No one will, and I sure as hell don’t want you forever!”
Your body stills under him, not quite limp as though you might pass out, but cold, frozen.
Dabi doesn’t care; he never has as he countries to hammer his cock within you, his tongue sweeping over his front teeth before spitting onto his branded name on your skin. You flinch greatly at the burning sensation, your eyes trying not to close with unconsciousness as ropes of his cum and seed spill into your cunt.
You lay there, unable to move, as Dabi stands up, quickly dressing and leaving you with a mere chuckle.
You were ruined forever, you suddenly realized as we make our way back to the beginning scene.
Cold, used, quirkless.
You had no purpose in life except to be Dabi’s whore, and even he didn’t want you.
The darkness consumed you in the worst of ways right then.
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Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt 10
Sorry for the wait everyone! this last week has been crazy! I am working on the next part and hope to have it up in the next day or so and be back on track.
For more parts click here! Part 11
Warnings: Talk about harming others, blood. That’s about it. This chapter is more just trying to get Y/N acquainted with the league.
Word Count: 2.4 k
TAGLIST: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @operatorsdime @drownedbytears @emilymikado @fluidfandoms @gotagan @mikasackrmann @flowersgirl02 @bohica160 @andrastesbeard @riapxq @percabethismyotp14 @celestiallustre @moon-spirit-yue @hecatve @bakugoshirp @vanillanjinn @toshiuwuu @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus @callmepopcorn @xxdumb-bitchxx
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Villains are the most compassionate people in the world apparently. Well not all of them were, but this lot was.
No one had said anything when you puked all over the floor. Not one snide comment when you curled up onto the ground dry heaving. Toga had stepped forward almost immediately, quicker than even Dabi, pulling your hair back from your face, taking a hair tie front her wrist and tying it up. Dabi hadn’t even growled at her, instead dropping to your other side rubbing your back cooing softly in your ear that it was okay. That it was over. Twice stayed quiet for once so not to say something wrong, instead taking off to go find cleaning supplies to pick up the mess. Spinner just stood there awkwardly.
Even Shigaraki stayed quiet, choosing to take off down the hallway leaving you with everyone else, Kurogiri following after.
“Come on, let’s go get you something to drink.” Dabi and Toga helped you up to your feet, guiding you down the hallway and through a door to the main bar area, sitting you down on a couch against the wall. You were shaking at this point, your ears ringing.
Toga curled up on the couch with you, petting your hair, while Spinner took a seat on the floor a couple feet away from you. You could vaguely hear Dabi tell her to watch out for staples, and a quick retort from her saying there was none but you didn’t care. How could you? Someone was dead, and their last moments were in agonizing pain because of you. Because you got upset... because they tried to hurt your alpha.
Dabi came around the bar kneeling in front of you with two drinks in his hand, water and some kind of alcohol, it smelled like whiskey.
“You’re going to want it. Trust me.”
You nodded taking the whiskey from him shooting it to the best of your ability, trading the glass for the water. Dabi got up briefly coming back again this time with multiple drinks in hand, one for each of you before he settled onto the floor in front of you, rubbing your legs soothingly like he could massage away the last however many minutes from your mind, watching you with guilt in his eyes.
You couldn’t look at him.
Twice came in and joined you, hesitating before taking a seat next to Toga who was currently picking apart your hair strands that had blood in them still, you briefly thought that you really needed to shower again.
“That was badass. You’re such a “ You could see Twice covering his mouth with his hand, struggling to keep whatever he was about to say inside. He looked absolutely tortured with himself, trying to keep things in check. Toga immediately switched from picking at your hair to pulling his head against her shoulder, petting him softly.
“He’s right… Y/N. That was pretty cool of you.” You felt sick to your stomach again and shifted away from the duo further on the couch. Why were they even here right now? To make you feel worse? In your mind you knew you would have to get over this at some point. If you wanted Dabi this would be your new normal, you would have to… hurt people. It didn’t make it any easier.
And he just sat silent, rubbing your legs like that would help. Dabi knew you were in an internal war. He knew what you were feeling right now. He wouldn’t blame you if you decided this was too much for you. That he wasn’t worth it. That you rather be free, or even go back to that fucking house. Dabi downed his drink, refusing to think about that. Knowing that deep down inside he wouldn’t let you go back to that house even if that was what you wanted with everything in your soul. He was selfish. Letting you go was one thing, letting his father have you back was another.
You sat frozen on the couch, nursing your second drink already feeling the effects of the first one. It wasn’t numbing like you had hoped. It just made you want to cry more but you refused. You needed to prove to these villains that you were fine. That you could handle this. That they didn’t have to get rid of you just because you were a cry baby. You knew just because Dabi was your alpha, that didn’t mean they would let you stick around. They had to make sure they could trust you.
“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N…” Twice was looking at you seriously now, curled up in Toga’s grasp. There was no second voice to follow. No snarky remark.
“I’m fine.”
“God, I hope not. We don’t need another crazy person.” Toga lightly smacked his head at his words, a smile pulling at her lips.
“What? I’m serious! The last thing we need right now is another psycho like Overhaul. Remember how well that went?” You looked over at the duo with confusion as Twice defended his words, Toga telling him to hush up but he just looked back to you and continued.
“If you’re fine right now, then you are in shock, and if your fine and not in shock you really should be concerned. I don’t know anyone that didn’t freak out the first time... other than Toga maybe, but she’s special. She’s crazy!” Toga rolled her eyes, covering Twice’s mouth with her hand.
“I’ve been dealing with blood since I was born.” She explained, a ghost of a blush crossing her cheeks like she was embarrassed. “You can’t really freak out about hurting people when you have a quirk like mine. The first time I really hurt someone though, like really hurt them, it was an accident. I ran away so fast no one even knew what to do. The look on everyone else’s faces, especially my friends... They started screaming at me saying I was a vampire. They weren’t very cute anymore.”
“Try killing yourself, that’s really awful.” Twice mumbled against Toga’s hand and visibly shuddered like he was remembering something, Toga immediately going back to stroking his head gently like she could sooth the thoughts. Somehow the little blonde had a calming affect on the other beta, you wondered what their relationship was.
“I don’t understand.”
“We all remember our first time, princess. We all hated it. We all probably threw up just like you did, or drank ourselves stupid, or whatever other coping mechanism we came up with. None of us wanted to do this. It just sorta happened.” Dabi finally spoke, his eyes latched onto his empty glass, like he was remembering something he didn’t want to either.
“We aren’t changing the world so we can hurt people. We are hurting people to change the world.” Spinner was speaking now. His voice surprised you, having not heard it before. You knew that he was a Stain fanatic but you didn’t know much else about him.
Kurogiri had snuck into the room. He was standing behind Dabi just a few feet away, looking almost shameful and you jumped when you noticed him, once again surprised by his sudden appearance. You wondered if mist could blush. You wondered a lot about the Beta in front of you.
“I would like to apologize and offer my condolences, Ms. Y/N. It is my fault that Compress went into that room and any of this happened to begin with. I am gravely sorry that you had to get involved like that.” He bowed low, his hands clasped in front of him.
“It’s okay...” You didn’t really know what to say, especially to that. Everyone was being so kind to you, for once you could actually see them as people, people with more than just pure hatred and murder in their hearts, people that were more than the blood they spilled.
It was a couple minutes of silently drinking before anyone said anything again.
“You know… maybe I shouldn’t say this cause of the tender moment… but Y/N, you really stink.” Twice leaned away from you like you were going to hit him, or maybe like he was trying not to breathe in your stench, pinching his nose.
“Oh thank god, someone other than me said it.” Toga immediately jumped up from the couch putting distance between the two of you while trying to hide a smile on her face of amusement as she covered her mouth and nose with her palm.
Your eyes shifted over to Dabi’s who looked like he was trying to also hide a laugh, his hands had left your legs as he leaned back using his arms to prop him up and you immediately found yourself missing the warmth and comfort of his touch.
“You do kind of reek…”
You scoffed in mock annoyance. Your own lips twitching up in weak smile. They were trying. These crazy people that barely knew you, were trying their best to make you feel better, and it was almost working.
“I guess I’ll go shower then... I need clothes though. Preferably something that fits.” You looked down at the baggy sweats that were barely hanging onto your hips and the hoodie that looked gross as all hell with everything on it, before looking back up at Dabi pointedly.
“But you look so good in mine.” You could hear the way his voice dropped into a low growl that went straight to your lower stomach. You could feel your cheeks heating up. How was he able to flip that switch in you so easily? He was just telling you that you smelled bad!
“Ew gross. If you guys fuck can I watch?” Twice was back to his antics again, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Please don’t. I sit on that couch. I have some clothes that might fit you Y/N!” Toga ran off out of the room and you weren’t sure if she just wanted to get away from the two of you or if she was actually going to look for clothes.
You stood up, looking down at Dabi, mumbling softly asking where to shower to which he responded by grabbing your hands, hoisting himself off the floor almost pulling you down in the process before dragging you out of the room behind him with barely a goodbye to the others.
“So is that a no?”
You followed Dabi back to his room, noticing the conjoined bathroom once you were inside. The whole building seemed to be set up like an old hotel, the bar being the main room, but it seemed like there was a couple other communal rooms as well. Maybe he would let you explore a little when you were done. Get to know the place that was going to be possibly your new home. It was weird to think about it like that. Would the two of you stay here or go back to his old apartment?
“I’m gonna go find Shigaraki and update him on the Shoto situation while you’re cleaning up. We need to get a plan in place before he shows up and tries to kill us all.” Dabi paused when there was a knock on the door, opening it to let Toga bounce into the room with a stack of clothes. Dabi wrinkled his nose at the scent of them, his lips almost settling into a pout when he realized you would smell like her. “I’ll be back. Please don’t go running around until I get back. We might have to work quickly to get everything set up…” He paused again looking at the clothes his alpha focusing on them. “We can go shopping later too… for your own clothes.”
You nodded, taking the clothes from the petite blonde, smiling gratefully at her before she turned and flitted out of the room, smirking at Dabi as she passed. He slammed the door behind her much to her annoyance. Stinky little brat. Dabi loved her like a little sister but man was she annoying sometimes, her scent especially.
“Okay.” You shifted from foot to foot watching Dabi as he shifted his intense hooded gaze back to yours. You could feel the energy in the room change, your omega perking back up from her sleep now that the two of you were alone, attention piqued. You thought back to the way his lips had felt against yours no too long ago. He was thinking about it too.
“We might have to lay low for a while, find a different place to hide out just the two of us until things calm down.” Just the two of you? By yourselves? Hiding away? You could smell the excitement coming off of you at just the thoughts in your head.
“Don’t look at me like that,” His voice was low, gravelly, a warning as he held the doorknob loosely to keep himself grounded. To remind himself now was not the time.
“Like what?” Did you not realize what you were doing to him when you looked at him like that? Like you were an innocent little thing waiting to be corrupted. Surely you did. He could smell you from here, across the room. It was like a little slice of heaven. He wanted to make it his.
“Like you want to be fucked.” Dabi was delighted in the way that your cheeks turned red, your lips parting to suck in a breath of air in surprise at his words, at how you didn’t even protest. He wanted to bend you over his bed right now and… no… he wanted to take his time with his little mouse. He wanted to worship you, to show you just exactly how he felt with no distractions from the world outside. Just the two of you.
In order to do that he had to take care of some things first.
“Go shower.” He growled out before retreating from the room, shutting the door with a thud, leaning against it staring up at the florescent lights on the ceiling. He could still smell you out here, though it was very faint, the scent blockers throughout the building doing their jobs.
His alpha was screaming to go back in there and have his way with you, fuck the rest of the world, but his logical side reminded him that you guys didn’t have much time left before a horde of heros showed up to come rescue their damsel in distress. There was no way Endevor was going to let his little show dog’s omega get stolen.
Dabi took one deep inhale of your scent, adjusting himself in his pants before pushing off the door and forcing himself to go find Shigaraki. They needed a plan or else this was going to be a bloodbath.
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The Final Battle
☞ harry potter x jjk crossover au // 3.9k words
☽ the battle of hogwarts: jjk style, remnants of satosugu friendship, pain, hurt, more pain…sigh… pure angst with a magical twist for flavor
☽ warnings : major character death
☽ pairing : satoru gojo x suguru getou
☞ my inner harry potter geek really came out full force with this one…so did my sad writer juices i apologize beforehand :)
“satoru….hey, professor nanami cast the spell to defend the school. it won’t be long…”
“i know. i’ll join you when it’s time.”
the illuminating sheen of the dome rose high over the towers of hogwarts. gojo could hear the hum radiating from it, the power from the spell glowing against the overcast sky.
this is it.
should he count his blessings? pray? to what deity, or god, or higher being should he speak to before his world comes crushing down?
gojo’s wand feels heavy in the palm of his hand, thumb gently grazing over the smooth spruce. he imagines the dragon heartstring at its core, the beast he knew lived inside.
he had seen it himself, his peers had too. how even before traveling to hogwarts in his first year just how powerful a wizard he was-and would grow up to be.
if only he knew where he would be in his seventh year. standing in front of the large oak doors leading to the great hall, his fellow students young and old rushing into place all around him, wiping their brows and preparing for a war.
a war that would cost gojo everything.
he knew who he would see on the other side of the battle. the image of his face made gojo’s stomach churn and his chest ache.
his best friend.
his only friend.
he felt a hand rest atop his left shoulder, the scuffed toes of professor nanami’s boots coming into view beside him. he met his professor’s eyes, receiving a small nod of acknowledgment. gojo had grown quite close to his professor throughout his years at hogwarts. he was one of the only people that had garnered gojo’s appreciation and trust.
nanami knew. he had watched all of them grow up, after all. he was the one who informed gojo of the news that sent him spiraling.
that was two years ago.
now, as voldemort rallied his followers and dark creatures of the forest, gojo knew he would face him again.
“the spell is weakening.”
“it was only a matter of time.”
“are you prepared?”
“no.”
“neither am i. but we must.”
with a pat on his shoulder the professor left his side, sheathing the oak wand in his sleeve.
“strength. endurance. tolerance. balance. practicality. that is what my wand stands for. each of you have your own unique wand that chose you; yes, the core of your wand does hold great power and meaning, but so does the wood that keeps it intact. it is a vessel. and it is strong.”
gojo remembers listening to his professor and thinking he was absurd. but his friend had watched on with glimmering eyes, thirsty for new knowledge, and he had decided that maybe the idea wasn’t all that abhorring.
“hawthorn. somewhat arrogant, reflection, intelligence, vigor, new beginnings or endings. feels most at home with a wizard of natural talent. wicked, eh satoru? what about yours?”
“ah, mines spruce. quick-witted, adaptable, flamboyant, strength, resistance, is known for its unusually fast reactions and somewhat stubborn nature in the hands of a nervous or untrained wizard or witch. good thing i’m not that, eh?”
“your wand is supposed to be stubborn? you’ve had no problems!”
“well of course i haven’t! i don’t remember a moment in my life where i’ve ever been nervous. no wonder…”
the conversation had drifted away in a few minutes, the flickering of the lantern lulling gojo to sleep. when he came to, the weight of a second robe rested on his shoulders. he had ignored the blush that rose on his cheeks and wiped drool from the corner of his mouth
gojo had looked down at the book that ended up as his makeshift pillow and found himself mindlessly reading more information. gojo had failed to mention the extra research he had done; it was innocent, just an extra flip of a page. what he read he never told.
‘although hawthorn is a very powerful wood, it is adept to curses. many of those who practise dark magic have been affiliated with wands made from hawthorn. they are not to be taken lightly in the wrong hands.’
he didn’t regret it then, but after he had gotten the news from nanami about what his friend did, the guilt ate him alive.
now as he looks out the castle doors to the cracks spindling in luminescence revealing the murky darkness of the stormy sky, gojo realizes that this might be his last day at hogwarts.
the realization is fleeting. he can’t afford to be thinking that way. not now. he feels the eyes of his classmates pouring into his being. they’re looking to him to save them.
you should just try to save yourselves.
itadori comes to stand to his right, fushiguro to his left. maki and nobara flank behind him.
this is is family. they all know their tie to one another. they’ve been training together for almost a year on their combat skills. itadori had been experiencing some difficulties, but nonetheless proved to be the closest match to gojo himself.
“holly. with a phoenix feather core. why?”
“just curious. look up what your wood means sometime, will ya?”
“yea…sure. not sure what that has to do with anything…”
gojo and professor nanami both had thought his wand would be made of dogwood- it matched itadori’s personality-the holly was a surprise. paired along with a phoenix feather core was practically unheard of.
but as the dark magic started to rise, itadori started to blossom. he was an amazing wizard.
gojo had his own hypotheses, but as always kept them to himself. no need to cause any further turmoil in his life.
“gojo?”
“you can call me satoru, y’know.”
“sure…gojo?”
“…yes itadori”
“i’m scared.”
gojo felt his heart clench. the boy beside him might be powerful, but still just that- a boy. he didn’t deserve this. none of them did.
“you can always back away. you know that, right?”
he watched as itadori looked across the bridge towards the darkness, then to his friends and classmates surrounding them.
“gojo?”
“hm?”
“are you scared?”
“no.” yes.
despite what lay ahead of them, itadori cracked a smile. “same as ever, eh?”
gojo forced the corners of his lips into a smirk. “you know it.”
~~~~~~~~~~
as soon as the remaining bits of professor nanami’s spell wore off, the fighting commenced. the huge stone knights began at the putrid giants that shook the ground as they walked, but, as expected, they didn’t hold for long.
there were hundreds of death eaters that immediately swarmed the entrance to the castle. gojo and the others had already gotten separated. he found himself looking for glimpses of them as he fought, power rushing through his veins as flashes of light shot through his vision.
one death eater after another fell to his wand. a goblin here. an enormous arachnid there. a shield spell shot itself from his wand to catch a pillar that threatened to fall on a young girl. gojo didn’t spare a second to marvel at how his wand seemed to act on its own.
itadori was nowhere to be found. nobara was matched against a witch he swore he had seen on the cover of a newspaper. she had been locked up in Azkaban for upwards of ten years.
a patronus he knew belonged to megumi weaved itself through the dust and dirt of the fight, closely followed by its darker counterpart. he made the mistake of watching the white wolf too closely in its decent over one of the towers and felt the breath get knocked from his chest as he flew backwards into a wall.
he coughed weakly into his hand, rubbing the blood that surfaced there onto his pants. the wall he flew into crumbled around him. he wasn’t sure who had landed a blow on him, but whoever it was had to be powerful.
only three people had ever managed to conquer such a thing, and two of them were currently fighting for hogwarts.
gojo petrified a lone death eater that had tried to sneak up on his left. he quickly ran over to the frozen body to lift the mask, though he knew it wasn’t who he was searching for.
“gojo, on the bridge!”
the yell had come from megumi, whom he saw battling three death eaters at once. after quickly disarming one them, gojo turned towards the bridge.
a flash of pink hair caught his attention. he watched as itadori seemingly chased after someone and raised his wand to cast his patronus to follow him. he stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure across the ravine.
it was him.
gojo’s hands shook with a ferocity no one had seen before. his wand illuminated the battlefield so bright many had to shield their eyes. the fighting ceased for only a moment as everyone turned to look at the being that stood in place of gojo satoru.
the short silence was broken when a death eater sent a curse flying towards nobara. a flick of gojo’s wrist was all it took for the death eater to fall in a heap on the ground, dead.
gojo’s entire being felt laced with ice. he knew he would see him. he knew. so why…
why did it hurt so badly?
screams and cries fell on deaf ears as gojo made his way across the crumbling bridge towards the forest. his hands trembled at his sides, legs weak as they carried the weight of this moment.
the figure had seen him and immediately dissipated into thick black smoke.
~~~~~~~~~~~
the forbidden forest had never scared gojo. he actually found comfort in the deep hollows and twisted roots that overcame the dense woods. he spent a lot of time here throughout the years even though students weren’t allowed.
his feet led him along the familiar pathway he had taken numerous times before. a lone centaur raced towards the castle, not sparing gojo a second glance. he had long since become acquaintances with the creatures of the forest.
“gojo!”
“itadori? what in the- what are you doing out here? you’re going to get yourself killed!”
“i saw voldemort go into the forest so i-“
“well, what a sight.”
gojo’s eyes widened as he registered the voice that came from behind him. itadori looked over his shoulder in confusion; when he saw who the voice belonged to, his face morphed into a look of pure rage.
“itadori. this is my battle.”
“but-“
“you need to leave.”
“no, no i’m not just going to leave you here-“
“yuuji? wow, it’s been a while… you’ve grown.”
gojo turned to face the voice, visibly wincing as his eyes landed on his old best friend.
“satoru”
“suguru.”
getou had gotten taller since he last saw him. a scar ran across the length of his forehead and his hair had grown longer.
i always said his hair would look good long.
“i can feel the power radiating from you, satoru…it’s delicious. my lord will be quite pleased to meet you”
“your ‘lord’ can kiss my ass.”
getou chuckled, “no need to be vulgar”
gojo’s hand clenched around his wand. one spell and this could be over, but it would be irreversible. even though gojo knew getou wasn’t the same person he was a year ago, he still trembled at the thought of his old friend not being alive.
“gojo-“
“no, let him stay awhile satoru! it’ll be so much more fun”
itadori sneered at getou before pointing his wand towards him. gojo could see the slight shaking of his hand. he was terrified.
getou laughed, his arms opening wide as if welcoming the two into his home.
“so much more bite than when i last saw you, hm? the dark lord spoke highly of you…”
“stupefy!”
gojo’s head whipped around in a flash just in time to see itadori’s body fall to the forest floor. a man with long gray hair skipped towards them, giggling maniacally.
“ah mahito, just in time!” the man bowed in getou’s direction, inching closer to itadori’s paralyzed body. “master informed me that yuuji itadori had followed him here and sent me to fetch him…who is this handsome fellow, hm?”
gojo stood tall, senses on high alert. he was almost okay dealing with getou alone- but now there was an unknown wizard present. if voldemort sent him to do his biddings, then he must be strong…
“this is my old friend from hogwarts…satoru, meet mahito.”
“i’d rather not.”
mahito licked his lips in response to gojo’s remark, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. every aspect of this man screamed lunatic…and he was here for itadori.
a grunt escaped itadori from his position on the ground. gojo could see him trying to regulate his breathing, but it was obvious the younger boy was panicking.
“oh satoru, don’t be crass. the dark lord has been yearning to meet the young boy for a long while.”
“a long while? what the hell are you talking about?”
getou chuckled, brandishing his wand from the dark cloak that hung around his shoulders. gojo’s hand instinctively tightened around his wand as he watched his old friend walk towards itadori.
mahito tapped his fingers rhythmically against the handle of his own wand, seemingly awaiting orders. getou kneeled down closer to itadori’s face.
“yes, a long while.”
gojo still didn’t understand what that meant. itadori hadn’t met getou when he was at hogwarts, so how did his presence suddenly become voldemort’s pentacle of fascination?
“take him.”
“WAI-“
before gojo could even move to cast a spell, itadori’s scream was cut off as mahito apparated them both away.
“he’s just a boy!”
“maybe so…but a very powerful boy indeed.”
“his power doesn’t justify voldemort’s infatuation with him! i don’t understand why his involvement is needed-“
“they are tethered, satoru. remember?”
gojo’s body turned ice cold.
“…no, you…you…it was just-“
“just a suspicion, yes, that is what you told me, wasn’t it?”
no. no. it couldn’t be.
“the dark lord was very delighted with the information, so, i have you to thank, satoru. whatever may happen to the boy will be because of you.”
gojo’s mind went stark. he didn’t think, just moved with no purpose; he just let his rage pull his limbs into action like a puppet.
unspoken spells flew from both wands, the two wizards trapped in their last battle. the two were evenly matched. this didn’t surprise him.
after all, getou was one of the three people who had been able to land a jinx on him.
it was nonstop. gojo couldn’t stop himself if he tried. he was seething with anger not just towards getou, but towards himself. there was such a sinking feeling in the air, like they were dancing on cracking ice.
for an instant the two locked eyes. gojo felt his footing slightly tip, and that was all it took for getou to find an opening and send him flying backwards through the air. he landed hard on his back, wincing as a jolt of pain went through his head.
he knew he should get up. continue the fight. run and find itadori.
but he didn’t.
“you didn’t kill me.”
he didn’t see getou’s reaction to his comment. a patch of night sky that had broken through the clouds caught his attention.
for a moment he wished getou had killed him.
“get up.”
“i don’t want to.”
“satoru, get up and fight me.”
getou snarled and grabbed gojo by the collar of his jacket, pulling him up to meet his face.
“don’t you hate me?”
“…no.”
“why not! you…you should despise me! i betrayed everyone-including you!”
“i don’t.”
and it was the truth. gojo had spent hours in his dormitory stuffing his leaking eyes into his pillow, trying to be revolted by his best friend. he still had scars on his hands from punching the stone walls of the dungeons, trying to force his own physical pain into hatred.
it never worked.
“…i still don’t understand why you did it.”
that seemed to catch getou off guard. he slackened the grip he had on gojo’s collar, backing away with his head hung low.
“…he found my father.”
gojo’s eyes widened at the statement.
“i…i thought your father was-“
“dead? me too…” he paused for a moment, scoffing before continuing, “but he wasn’t. all that time we spent searching for letters, newspaper articles, headlines on the news- hell even muggle police reports- was for nothing.”
“so you went with him.”
“what other choice did i have, satoru?”
the atmosphere that had engulfed the two snapped.
what did he mean? ‘what other choice did he have’? gojo felt the anger from before start to trickle back into his veins.
“you could have stayed.”
getou met his eyes. they stood in unison, gaze never faltering.
“i had no reason to stay.”
“that’s bullshit and you know it, suguru.”
“what reason then? i was a horrid student, i didn’t care about grades, our so-called friends loathed me satoru! i had no family, no home to call my own i-“
“you had me, suguru!”
getou went silent. the only noises that could be heard were their heavy breaths and muffled yells from the castle. the wind sent a chill straight to gojo’s bones and he shivered, suddenly realizing there were tears trailing down his cheeks.
“i betrayed you satoru. without a second thought.”
“i don’t believe you.”
“i pushed you to investigate itadori’s powers. voldemort told me he would reveal my father’s whereabouts if i gave him information on the boy,”
“but-“
“i broke your trust! i didn’t even try to warn you of what i was planning, or that my father was alive-“
“suguru-“
“don’t you see!”
gojo stared at the look of pure exasperation and pain on getou’s face. he had a feeling it mirrored his own.
he watched as getou pulled the sleeve of his cloak above his forearm, placing the mark of the death eaters etched into his skin on display.
“this is what i am now, satoru.”
“and i’m just supposed to…what? hate you? was i supposed to hate you then? because i didn’t, and don’t.”
“that’s- that’s exactly what you should do! i would hate me-“
“well guess what suguru!” gojo was yelling by now, the words clawing their way from within his chest, “you don’t get to decide how your decisions make others feel!”
he ignored the fact he was moving steadily towards getou as he yelled. when he got close enough, gojo realized they both were shedding tears.
“i don’t understand why you care so much about me-“ gojo let out an unhumourous laugh, “what’s that supposed to mean, huh? you think i stayed up all those hours searching for your father out of what- obligation? pity?”
getou searched for an answer, stammering over the thoughts running through his head.
“i don’t understand why-“
“because i loved you!”
no more skirting around thin fractures, or waiting with baited breath to discover to truth. it was done.
and it broke him.
gojo had done well hiding his pain the past two years. the signature smirk was automatic-it appeared on his face without effort. conversation passed through his mouth without falter. he had trained himself to be the perfect student.
but this…this he couldn’t pretend to recover from.
“you…”
“it doesn’t matter now. what’s done is done.”
“were you ever going to tell me?”
“…i don’t know.”
when did his wand become so heavy? was his chest supposed to hurt this bad?
“oh god…satoru…”
he didn’t want to feel this way anymore. the sorrow was eating him alive, peeling back layers and layers of his soul.
he repressed the urge to comfort getou as he watched his past love fall to his knees.
“i’m so sorry, satoru.”
“sorry can’t fix everything, suguru,”
if only you had said it then…
“not now. not ever.”
please make this pain stop.
“…i know.”
“so let’s finish this.”
every fiber of his being was screaming at him to stop. a tiny voice yelled ‘you can help him!’. he forced the thoughts from his mind, they would only get in the way.
he had made his decision.
getou didn’t falter from his position on the ground. his wand stayed by his side. the only movement he made was to lift his head towards the night sky as gojo himself had done before.
i love you, suguru. forgive me.
“avadakdavra!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the walk back to the castle was torture. the weight of getou’s body was heavy in his arms. it was worse than he ever could have imagined.
the silence that had encompassed him the forest was shattered the moment he stepped foot onto school grounds. the battle was over, it seemed.
the carnage left behind was gut-wrenching.
gojo ignored the gazes of his peers as he wandered into the great hall. he knew this was where they had planned to house all of the wounded, and despite the hollow feeling in his gut, he needed to find his family.
“gojo!”
he turned to see who had called his name and felt relieved when he saw it was itadori. the relief was short-lived, however, when he noticed the sobs wracking the young boys’ body.
gojo retrieved a lone bedsheet and carefully placed getou’s body down, taking one last look at his past love’s face before he covered it. he left getou there and made his way over to where itadori was crouched over a figure lying on the floor. megumi and maki were both there too.
where was nobara?
“it happened right before you went after itadori…”
gojo’s gut wrenched when he saw who the figure was.
“i assume you saw getou…you didn’t even realize what had happened…” the memory of the battle flashed before his eyes.
“i killed that death eater. the woman. i- i could have sworn…no i know i killed her-“
“it was too late.”
“…gojo?”
he kneeled down and took one of nobara’s bloody hands in his own.
“yes, it’s me, i’m here now nobara.”
“you found getou…didn’t you?”
“…yes. i did.”
this wasn’t supposed to happen. gojo swore he had done everything to prepare them… butit wasn’t enough.
nobara wheezed as a chuckle tried to escape her body, the action causing her to cough uncontrollably as air tried to seep into her lungs.
“i can’t believe…out of all of us…that i’m the one dying…could have sworn it…would have been yuuji…ha!” itadori offered a small laugh, more tears escaping his eyes.
“wow, even on your deathbed you’re still fighting with me…”
gojo met the eyes of maki, who he could tell was choosing not to say anything. megumi refused to look at nobara’s face. instead he stared at the floor, silently crying, not bothering to wipe the tears away.
they’re so young.
gojo felt a sob lurch in his throat but he refused to let it free. he had to be strong. or, at least, act strong. it wasn’t time for his facade to break.
for their sake.
“you ok, nobara?”
“yea…i’m ok.”
gojo watched as she took her final breath.
“gojo…gojo she’s… she’s dead, gojo…”
he pulled itadori’s smaller body into his own, holding him there as the boy sobbed openly. megumi took ahold of maki’s hand, the latter turning her head into the boys’ shoulder as she let her own cries break free.
i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…
#jjk megumi#jjk fanfic#jjk#jjk itadori#satorugojo#jjk gojo#gojo sensei#gojo satoru#gojo angst#satosugu#satoru x suguru#sugurugeto#getou suguru#angst#harry potter#crossover#major character death#jujutsu nobara#maki zenin#maki jjk#maki jujutsu kaisen#nobara kugisaki
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law school ep 15 (and solhwi overall)
gonna put in my two cents for the line that singlehandedly caused the solhwi nation to implode.
(apologies in advanced because my thoughts are too messy for me to neatly put it in a post but i want to say it anyway—also this is just the way i view solhwi so please don't come screaming at me if you disagree!)
i'm a diehard solhwi shipper and i love their relationship, and think they have one of the best relationships out there in the fictional world, and also definitely one of the healthiest. but to me, their relationship extends far beyond the romantic relationships we so often see portrayed in media.
kim beom said in one interview that this relationship between HJH and KS is kin to that of a soulmate relationship that's not necessarily romance, and i find myself agreeing with that notion. while soulmates are typically used to describe romantic partnerships, it doesn't necessarily have to start with romance. (many people have pointed this out in other posts so i won't go further down the fact that HJH x KS's relationship is a friends-to-lovers slow burn but you get me.)
but in fact, this bond between soulmates (or at least how i define it), in my opinion, is far beyond what we usually see in romance. as in, it's not just someone you like, but it's someone whose changed your life in a certain way. i know some may be averse to the idea of having to change for the one you love because loving is the notion of accepting someone in spite of the person's flaws, but what i mean is that when you love someone in this way, you want to change because of them. you see them, and they inspire you, and you grow in your own way. once again—growth is a very subjective idea, and even for HJH and KS we can see them grow in different directions—but we can clearly see how they have impacted each others' lives.
it's quite obvious, imo, how KS's life has been impacted by HJH's. she's,, not the "smartest" out there, and we can't deny that. we know she probably won't make it through law school if not for HJH's help. HJH is always there, a step ahead of KS, but he's not just being proud about it, instead opting to help her understand what the laws are and why they are the way they are, which KS especially needs, being a particularly empathic person. but we've also seen that HJH has helped KS beyond simply academics. he's always been there to protect her—almost all their interactions have proven that (the camera outside her house, the hungover soup, the switching seats—i think literally everything?..?..?.??). maybe she doesn't necessarily need protection, but surely thanks to his protection she's much better than she might've been without, especially knowing her terribly miserable life.
but i often wonder why HJH is so heart-eyes of KS of all people. i mean, i know love is love and sometimes you just catch feelings, but i believe there's more meaning behind their relationship than meets the eye. like you don't just look at someone so lovingly for it to be just a crush, y'know? the first reason that comes to mind is clearly simply KS's amicable personality. she definitely stands out: she's not that intelligent, struggling and barely surviving, but she has insane passion to pull through even despite truth attacks (like SJH saying she should reconsider her life decisions, saying that a chance of passing isn't something to be proud of, etc). she treats everything with such a positive outlook, and, well, KS is just an adorable human, so it's hard not to have a little crush her.
what makes KS stand out most, the core of her personality, is that she has hope, despite everything. she's been through shit because of her circumstances—left by her twin sister without a word, been in juvie, has no money to deal with it���you know, entire backstory. but instead she fights her weakness, even though she feel like it should've been her sister, even though she's not smart enough, because she has to do this. she keeps going, even though things keep turning out for the worse for her, holding hope when circumstances are most dire. but why? because she strives for justice. she doesn't want to be wronged. she wants the law to own up its mistakes, wants to make sure the law gets its own revenge. that's why she wants to work in law, yeah? and so she keeps fighting, even when hope seems lost.
okay but why did i mention this? because i think this is what HJH sees in KS. why? because this is what he needs.
HJH had lost hope. in an episode (i don't remember which), he mentioned he doesn't trust anyone, and it's obvious why: his uncle. it's the worst kind of betrayal that causes your ideals being burned down. he realized that even people who work in law can be corrupt, people who he thought he could trust above all others, people who seemed utterly good. and then he just begins to regard everyone with baseline amity, and no further. many have pointed out he doesn't have real friends (other than KS), even though he looks outgoing and friendly. it's not quite shown, but it must've been lonely. and a lonely fight, trying to prove that he will be a better prosecutor than his uncle was. and we know that HJH's nature as a person is to be calculating, objective, seeing things through facts and statistics; it's what makes him so intelligent. what that also makes him is realistic, and more often than not, that is almost equal to pessimistic—because reality just... sucks, as has been proven by the betrayal of his uncle. and further into the drama we see only more corrupt people in the business, so we certainly don't get out hopes fueled.
there's scarcely anyone in what we see who's actually pursuing law because they're passionate about the law, or if they are, they're not often very... human in doing it. examples: YJH, SJH, KSB are all very cold and indifferent types, people who really just come and do what they do, focus on studies (in the case of YJH, his teaching), and interactions with others are treated as "lesser". SJH and KSB in particular—they're good at the law, sure, but they seem to prioritize their position in law first and foremost. SJH and KSB don't hesitate to call out their losses, and even would rather not intervene for justice if it meant their position would be compromised. not that they're bad characters, not at all; i mentioned them simply to compare them to KS, who, despite not having the brains to do half the things she's supposed to do and earning herself nosebleeds everytime she tries, still does what she does for justice, passionately, hopefully, all for righteousness.
okay this was longer than i intended WHEW so i'll cut to the chase: long story short, HJH needs KS because KS gives him hope. hope of a humanity where people actually work in law and choose to fight for justice against all odds, even if the system itself is infiltrated by filth and corruption. KS is someone who, in her first lecture, was grilled the fuck out by Yangcrates, yet the first thing she does after she nearly throws her guts out is ask HJH whether he can tutor her. she does not ever lose hope, and that, truly, is what stands out to HJH, what he needs.
and KS needs HJH because he is her hope as well! hope by itself does no good if you can't actually do something about it, and KS knows this. HJH, despite seemingly just being someone to help her in her studies, is someone she needs if she wants to achieve her goals, if she wants to get back on the law the right way. which is why, in the end, KS and HJH are, while independent in their own way, dependent on each other in terms of their growth—KS gives HJH hope in humanity, HJH helps KS realize (make real) her hopes that would have been dreams if not for her.
oh my god i've rambled on this long without stating my point: THE DAMN LINE.
HJH saying he owes her makes sense in this light because, indeed, KS's positive outlook in everything keeps him going. it gives him a reason to keep wanting to work in law, because she is a reason to believe in goodness and justice, that there will be people who keep fighting for justice against all odds. he owes this to her—and perhaps that is why he goes all out to help her achieve that hope, perhaps that's why he goes out of his way to care for her. because they are each other's missing puzzle piece, the other half. soulmates.
sigh ok this was long ONE FINAL POINT. everyone has their own opinion on a solwhi ending, so i might as well chip in mine.
certainly, as a solhwi shipper, i want them to end up together. i believe they're really the best of soulmates, two people who just complement each other so well. but in the current timeline, them having a romantic relationship out of the blue would be,,, simply unnecessary, imo. they're still very much in the stage of friendship, and are both dealing with their own personal baggage, that shoving a romance would just take away the focus from their growth. i personally think even this platonic relationship is already a beautiful one, one that outshines many of the romances i've watched, even without having to flood everything under the romance light—which i think many can agree with me, seeing as how solhwi is shipped so much. i still want to see them end up together, though, so SEASON TWO LAW SCHOOL MANIFESTATION. please please please directors writers make it happen i am begging you. thank you.
sorry for this long ass post, thank you if you do read it and leave any thoughts! again this is just my opinion, you're free to let me know if you think differently or anything, or shoot me a message if you want to scream about solhwi or whatever i'm just solhwi brainrot 24/7 🤸🏻♀️
#sorry this was so long i have absolutely no self control when it comes to law school#law school#law school jtbc#law school kdrama#로스쿨#solhwi#han joon hwi#kang sol a#kang sol#kdrama#kim beom#ryu hye young#mine#analysis#opinion#netflix
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One Word Answer
Luke won’t even try to deny it—he’s fighting back tears as he pushes the screen door open. The house is so silent he thinks it might be empty, and, quite honestly, that’s probably for the best. If he tries to talk to anyone right now, he actually is going to start crying.
All he wants is to curl up on the Lupins’ sofa and think about whatever the fuck it was he did wrong; whatever he did to deserve this.
But he has no such luck.
The instant he enters the living room, he’s met by an onslaught of noise. There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, and the smiling faces of his friends—James, Remus, Sirius, Logan, Leo, Finn; he even thinks he might see Lily in the corner—are there to greet him. Remus approaches first, and presses a glass of champagne into his hands.
He passes it right back, and the noise stills, and Remus’s face falls slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Obviously something’s wrong.”
Luke sighs. “Just forget it.”
“What?”
“Forget it. Forget this.” He gestures around them, at the people, the decorations, the alcohol. “There’s no point.”
“What are you talking about?”
Isn’t Remus supposed to be the smart one? Is he really going to make Luke say it? “He said no, Remus.”
If the room was quiet before, now it’s unbelievably so; painfully so. “He said no,” he says again, this time more to himself.
He barely feels himself slump against the doorframe, sliding down to the floor with a slight thump. His head falls to the side, and he squeezes his eyes closed in one final attempt to stop the tears.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, though it feels, in a way, like he’s dreaming; he hears Remus’s voice, determined and far, far too loud: “Okay, everyone out. He needs… he needs.”
There follows the all-encompassing silence of a party ended too soon. Footsteps pass by him, going out into the hall, but Luke doesn’t have the energy to try to put gaits to faces and faces to names. He doesn’t have the energy to do anything but sit there and feel the uncomfortable warmth of his tears spill from his eyes and trail down his cheeks.
“I’ll go,” he hears Sirius say, once there’s no one left but the three of them, “and talk to…” he trails off, perhaps not saying the name for fear of it killing Luke just a little more inside, but it does nothing to help. All he can think of is hazel eyes and blond curls and gold, gold, gold.
And then it’s just them there: Luke, who needs to be comforted, and Remus, who hasn’t had to comfort him in so long that he’s forgotten how to—or maybe he never knew at all.
“I’m sorry,” Remus says.
“Don’t be.”
For the first time since it happened, Luke opens his fist. He opens his eyes, too, and he stares at the glint of metal. He bought the ring so long ago; he spent hours deliberating, trying to find the perfect one, and now it seems it doesn’t matter after all.
“He said no,” he whispers again, and this time it feels, even to him, like he’s just trying to convince himself of that. He looks up, meeting Remus’s gaze, and he brings his knees up to his chest, curling himself into a ball, into a defense mechanism, and buries his face in his hands. “I love him.”
“I know.”
“It hurts.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t know!” This—this anger isn’t like him. Or, well, it is like him—it’s how he was before the treasure, when they were just Gods and Hollows. It’s how he was before Saint.
He feels one of Remus’s hands grasp his, and he thinks of all the times they tried so hard to be in love. For years, they thought that it had to be each other; that they would never have anyone else. But it never worked out, because Remus needed Sirius—brave, easy Sirius—and Luke needed Saint.
Saint who was harsh like ice and warm like sunlight. Saint who loved like he fought.
Saint who said no.
Gently, Remus pries the ring out of his hand. He hears the click as it’s set down on the floor beside them, and he lets himself be enveloped in the arms of the boy who was his only friend in the world for so very long.
*
The apartment is empty when Luke gets back. The lights are off; the door is locked; Saint’s wallet is still on the counter here he left it. He wonders where Saint is. He wonders if Saint is going to come back.
He wonders whether he wants him to.
Well, that’s not quite right. Of course he wants Saint to come back. What he’s not so sure about is whether he wants Saint to acknowledge any of this.
He’s been hurt in a way he didn’t know he could be hurt. He has his defenses—he always has—and he took them down for the boy who was somehow both wild dreams and harsh reality all at once. For the first time in his life, he saw he was falling in love, and he let himself. He had no idea that that love would ever—could ever—destroy him in the way it is now.
Saint loves him. Luke knows this. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have pretended to, because while Saint is a good liar, he is not a happy one. He’s lived far too much of his life surrounded by half-truths, and he would never willingly do something that would hurt himself.
Hurting other people, yes. But Saint is not self-destructive. He’s just reckless.
Luke sets his keys down on the coffee table. He stares at the sofa—the sofa he and Saint bought together—and he clenches his jaw. His fist flies, practically of its own accord, into one of the couch cushions, and he feels his anger hit boiling point.
Just as quickly, it cools.
He’s not so much mad at Saint as he is mad at himself for wanting to be mad at Saint. He’s always known himself to be a paradox, and now, here, in the semi-darkness of the place he calls home, he finally understands that now is no exception.
When he enters the bedroom, he reaches out blindly with one hand for the light switch. To an outsider, it would seem like nothing has changed at all, but in reality, Luke’s entire world has been flipped on its head. It feels like it, anyway.
He goes through the motions. He brushes his teeth; he changes into his pajamas; but all the while he’s teetering on the edge of a precipice.
Climbing into bed and smelling the briny tang of salt water that Saint always carries with him is what finally tips him off the edge. He becomes lost in the memory of this afternoon, and it’s like Crucio all over again; he’s drowning in the past and the present and the future—
“Do you recognize this place?” Luke asks, hands in his pockets.
“Of course.”
The sun shines off Saint’s hair, bright and beautiful, and Luke tells him, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” It’s natural—they’ve said it a hundred thousand times by now, and, as Luke squeezes the ring he’s holding, he hopes beyond hope they’ll be able to say it a hundred thousand more.
“Saint?”
When Saint turns around, his eyes go wide. Luke tries to keep his balance—his jeans are already damp at the knee from the still-dewy grass, and the faint warmth of the noonday sun does nothing to calm his nerves. His breath shakes; he almost drops the ring as he holds it out.
“Hey,” he says, trying to smile. Inhale, exhale, he tells himself, and starts over again.
“I think you know why I’ve brought you here, but I’m going to say it anyway.
“This place, right here, is where we were when I finally fell in love with you. Sure, I’d been falling for a long time, but it was here that I hit rock bottom and realized I wanted to stay there.”
Saint must know where this is going. There’s no way he doesn’t. But his expression is unreadable, and Luke has to force himself to look away in order to keep going.
“I love you, Saint. I have for so long it scares me to think about and I will for the rest of time. You mean the world to me—I hope you know that. You are, without a doubt, my everything, and I want more than anything for you to remain my everything forever.
“You’ve spent years without a last name that truly feels like home. What I’m offering now, what I’m laying my heart bear in the hopes of, is that you can take mine. Will you—” he swallows, finally focusing his gaze; finally meeting Saint’s eyes, “—will you marry me?”
It’s like time has forgotten where it was going before—or perhaps even that it was ever going anywhere at all. Luke waits, biting his lip and trying not to smile, for an answer.
Saint turns his head away; he’s looking at something in the distance. His fingers are twitching ever so slightly at his side, and Luke’s heart falters.
“I’m sorry,” whispers Saint, still looking away, and Luke doesn’t need to hear any more. It’s as if someone has taken an axe to the very fibre of his being; his dreams of the future are being chipped away at in front of his very eyes.
Luke clears his throat. “Right.” He stands up, and his leg hurts like a bitch from kneeling, but he won’t say anything. The last thing he can do right now is show weakness. The last thing he can do is prove to Saint that he, Luke Deveaux, isn’t worth it.
“Wait,” Saint calls after him when he turns to go, but Luke isn’t listening. Of course Saint has his excuses, and, knowing Saint, they’re probably damn good ones, too, but he doesn’t want to hear them. Not now, when the chasm down the centre of his heart is still fresh and bleeding. Not now, when it hurts to take even a single step away from the man he loves, but he has to anyway.
Maybe not ever.
Luke isn’t asleep. He’s caught in the half-place—the place you go when you’re not there, not yet, but you aren’t quite here, either. So he feels the mattress dip beside him, and he feels the breath on the back of his neck, and he feels the hand curl protectively over his waist. He hears Saint say “I’m sorry,” in that quiet, desperately painful voice he has.
“You’re not,” he says into the silence, and he waits.
“I am,” Saint tells him. “I really am. I’m sorry I can’t want that. I’m sorry I can’t be that. I’m sorry I’m not enough.”
The last part is raw and full of emotion, and it would kill Luke completely if he was to say anything but “You are enough.”
“Not for you, I’m not.”
He still doesn’t turn over to face Saint—he’s not ready for that—but he lets himself relax slightly into his arms. “You are. You’re enough. You’re more than enough. Sometimes—sometimes I think you might be a little too much, actually.”
Saint’s other hand slots quietly over his. It makes his breath catch in his throat, but he can feel, in the thrum, the ever-constant ebb and flow of Saint’s very being, that it makes all of this so much easier.
“What I wanted to say,” Saint starts—tentatively, as if he’s scared that at any moment Luke is going to decide he doesn’t want to hear it—“earlier today, is that I don’t want that. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve never wanted a wedding and a certificate and a house and a family and honey, I’m home. That’s… that’s not for me.
“The way I see it, marriage is an anchor. It’s there to make sure you never stray. It’s a choice you make once, and it’s a choice that stays with you forever.”
Exactly, Luke thinks, but he says nothing.
“What I want—what I’ve always wanted, I just never thought it was within any realm of possibility until I fell in love with you—is a hundred choices. I want freedom in the fact that there isn’t really freedom at all. I want two boats, floating freely, that always find their way back to each other. I want to wake up next to you every morning knowing that I could leave if I wanted to but make the choice not to.
“And I know that’s not what you want. But I can’t make myself play happy families because the truth of it is that that isn’t me. I’m a wanderer. I want a reason to stay in one place, not a rule to keep me there. I’m sorry.”
He can feel Saint’s mouth moving against the place where his spine meets the cords of his neck. He can feel Saint’s tears, but it’s okay, because he’s crying, too.
“No.” His voice is far too loud for the weighted silence of the room. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I tried to make you choose between yourself and me. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that I don’t want marriage; I want you. I want you in your entirety; I want you in your all-encompassing happiness. That’s all I want. I want what you can give me—nothing more, nothing less.”
Slowly, Luke turns over onto his back. Saint immediately tucks his face into the space between Luke’s shoulder and neck, and this, this feels right.
“I love you,” Saint whispers. “I’ll always love you.”
“And I you.”
Saint laughs, a quiet noise that sounds like it’s half sob, as well. “And I tried to want that. I really did. At the wedding, I looked at you in that suit and I tried so hard to imagine if that was, well, us.”
“But you couldn’t.” As he says it, Luke presses a kiss to the crown of Saint’s head—the curls tickle his nose, and he closes his eyes for a moment and lets himself just be.
“I couldn’t. And I thought that was okay, because I never even considered that you could love me enough to… to want that with me.”
Luke pulls back, propping himself up on one elbow and creating enough space between them for him to look Saint in the eyes. They haven’t properly looked at each other since this afternoon, but that particular shade of hazel is all Luke has been able to think about. “It has nothing to do with how much I want you,” he says, and then he realizes how that sounds. “Or, rather, it is no indicator of how much I want you. It’s like you said—marriage is like an anchor. Sure, I haven’t always wanted that anchor, but that doesn’t change the fact that, anchor or no, I’ve always known, somewhere, that I’ll never let us drift apart.”
There are a few moments where they simply stare at each other. Luke runs his tongue along the edges of his teeth, pressing it into the sharpness of his canines just to feel something. Then Saint smiles that half-smile of his—the one he only ever wears when he and Luke are alone—and reaches up to cup Luke’s cheek in his palm.
“Fucking hell, Tweedle,” he says, in a soft, gentle voice that doesn’t at all match the words coming out of his mouth, “that might be the sappiest shit I’ve ever heard you say.”
Luke rolls his eyes and grins. He leans down, brushing his mouth against Saint’s. Their lips are barely touching, but, even so, Luke feels himself smile into the kiss. He’s at home here.
“You know,” Saint says later, when they’re simply lying in the dark, Luke’s head resting on Saint’s chest and one of Saint’s fingers tracing circles in Luke’s back, “there is one downside to the whole ‘not getting married’ plan.”
Luke wonders if he’s walking into a trap. “What’s that?”
“The last name thing.”
“Mm hmm.” Luke yawns. “Saint Deveaux does have a nice ring to it.”
“That it does.”
There’s another minute or two of comfortable silence, before Luke speaks up again. “And the second thing?”
“The second—oh.” Saint waits half a second before, “No divorce jokes.”
Luke laughs despite himself, relishing in the way Saint’s chest moves as he laughs, too. Saint, he knows now, is his choice. Saint is everything. Saint is home.
Saint is forever.
characters are by the incredible @lumosinlove
thanks to @im-oknutzy-trash for betaing
#st. tweedle#luke deveaux#saint#relic keel lumosinlove#angst with a happy ending#the author projects their own insecurities about marriage onto fictional characters#luke x saint#idk what to tag this#wolfstar are married in this btw#yes I did extensive research on economy and real estate pricing before realizing that it doesn't matter because this is relic keel#so they've all got pirate treasure#and are hence loaded
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Keeping a Secret - Part 3
pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs
genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn
warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie
wc: 7.3k (Ill just stop apologizing for this long chapter updates at this point)
[a/n]
Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu
AO3
Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist
“Remind me again why are we here.” Tsukishima tells you as soon as he steps foot inside your room.
He scans the room and immediately notices the mess that it is, particularly the top bunk of the bed which he doesn’t doubt must be your share of it.
On the wall on the left side of the room are posters of seascapes and sea animals of different varieties while the desk bolted under it are framed photos of Sendai Frogs. He recognizes them all;, one was taken from the first win of the team on the first year you joined as the manager. The second is a photo of the team at the gym with the new members that year, including Kyoutani who had just recently joined. The last one is a selfie of you on the bus doing a peace sign and winking at the camera while everyone was sleeping.
He kinda feels bad for your roommate now. You’re practically hogging the whole room.
You put down your bag on the floor and shoot him a confused look. “To do our project?”
When you told him to meet in your dorm, he agreed because he thought you meant the common area. After all, he had no reason to think you’d invite him to your room. You two may have disregarded the club incident, tucking it away as a sordid memory from a night of insanity, but that doesn’t mean it is forgotten. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you as you appear to genuinely find nothing wrong with the current situation.
You seat yourself at your table, taking out your laptop and notes from the trip last time.
“Go sit, Tsukishima,” you say without even looking at him as you spread out your notes on the table’s surface as your laptop boots up.
“We could’ve just done this in the library, or at least in the lobby,” he says as a matter-of-factly.
“True, but I also don’t see any problem with doing it here,” you answer passively, still occupied with arranging your papers.
He was right. It really does not bother you at all. So, he shouldn’t be bothered with it either. This way, at least, no one would see you and him together. You’re a person he doesn’t want to be associated with hanging around with anyways.
“Do you always invite your groupmates to your room?” He asks out of curiosity since it didn’t seem like anything for you to just invite him in, as if you didn’t care much about your privacy.
“Hmm. Depends,” you answer.
He takes out his own laptop, but still eyes you as he prods further. “On what?”
The curve of your lips tugs up slightly as you sit up straight and lift your gaze away from the notes you took out and finally turn your attention to him.
“I welcome those who won’t get handsy with me.”
“Even if you’re the one who’d get handsy with them?” he boldly counters.
You cock your head to the side with hints of amusement playing across your features, which vexes him. The question was supposed to tear your composure, not entertain you.
“Alright, let’s get the fucking elephant out of the room since it bothers you so much,” you announce with levity.
If you’re going to be honest, the kiss still finds its way to your mind sometimes. You just keep pushing it off so that you won’t get stressed out by it. What you find interesting is that he still keeps shoving that fact that you kissed him as if you wanted to do so.
Well, you literally did kiss him, but it’s not like you sought for it prior to the incident.
It just … happened.
“I’ll come clean, good sir, if you’ll allow me,” you declare sarcastically before setting a more serious tone. “I admit it. It was one hell of a mistake to kiss you. But I didn’t mean to. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn’t. It was just one of those stupid, off-the-cuff things people do.”
Your voice takes an accusatory note when you ask, “And why do you sound like I harassed you or something? Hmm? ‘Cause if I remember correctly.”
You cross your arms and look up, pretending to be deep in thought before facing him again with a fraudulent shock. “Oh right!” you exclaim exaggeratedly. “You kissed me back,” you add in almost a sing-song manner.
You put an elbow on the table and rest your cheek on your palm as you hold his glare with a snide grin. “How about that?”
He continues shooting daggers at you but you don’t falter. Quite soon enough, he lets up and returns to the passive, apathetic face he usually wears, which signals your victory for the argument. “Like you said, it was one of those dumb on the spot whims.”
You nod agreeably. “Alright, great. Now that that has been established, let me reassure you. It’s never ever gonna happen again. Ever.”
Your eyes are devoid of any humor while your words drip with firm resolve. Yet, he finds it off that you’re not asking him to do the same given that you both just agreed that you are equally accountable for that imprudent act. He is almost just as guilty.
“Aren’t you going to ask the same from me?”
Your somber expression breaks into a humored one as a laugh rumbles from your throat. You shake your head in comical delight while you look at him. “No, I won’t. Actually...” you drift off as you scoot closer to him until you’re right beside him. “Give it your best shot.”
You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. Did you really just dare him to kiss you? Kiss those stupid lips and have a repeat of that appalling night?
Should he?
He would do it just to erase the smug off your face, just to prove you wrong. But similar to that night, he can’t bring himself to do it. He hates the idea of instigating such a thing.
Even more so now that he’s already had a taste of those lips. Those lips that felt too exquisite that it infuriated him. Those lips that took away his logical thinking. With you offering those lips to him so generously, you make him hate them even more. That pretty face and that playful smile of yours do nothing but add to his fury.
“Can you get your face away from me?”
You peek one eye open before bursting into laughter, making his displeasure towards you skyrocket. Why the fuck is he always your laughing stock?
“See? This is why I don’t mind you coming over, Tsukishima. I bet if I strip naked right now, you’d walk out in a heartbeat.”
His scowl deepens. The mental image of your unclad body is very much unwelcome and unappreciated. “Bring that up again and I really will leave,” he snaps.
Even with your smile intact, your humored expression dissolves a bit and is replaced by a curious guise.
“You know, everyone likes me except you,” you say with no shred of diffidence.
You really are full of yourself. You might be ‘likeable’ for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean every single person you meet actually likes you. He’s certain there are people who you rub off the wrong way -- people like him.
“Isn’t that a bit too conceited, even for you?”
You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Maybe so. But you’re the only person who shoves your blatant dislike on my face.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it for the past three years,” he replies as he flips his laptop open and boots it up so he can turn his attention somewhere other than you.
“I didn’t need to work with you like this for the past three years.”
He doesn’t know where you’re going with the conversation so he doesn’t respond anymore. He’s certain you know why he finds you a pain in the neck. You constantly get on his grill with every opportunity you get. Maybe if you didn’t, he could actually tolerate your topsy turvy persona. But it’s as if it’s your personal mission to aggravate him.
“I’m putting the deal I offered during the trip,” you announce.
“What deal?” he asks as he starts typing bullet points of what should be done today so he can go home already.
“Forget I’m the annoying manager when it’s just us two. And I won’t deliberately piss you off.”
He types the last bullet point before returning his attention on you. “Then what? I suddenly become nice to you?”
“Hell no! I’m not asking for a fucking miracle. It’s not like you’re ever nice to anybody. Geez!” you explain derisively. “I just want us to have a conversation where you’re not giving me death glares.”
You give him a smile, one that lacks your usual haughtiness. Still, he can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’ll actually manage to hold the deal you’re proposing. Truth be told, he wants it. He can’t handle you being your usual if you two have to meet beyond training hours and, even worse, in private.
If this keeps up, he might end up cursing this subject by the end of the semester, which would be a waste because likes this subject way too much for you to taint it with your idiocy.
“Deliver your end of the bargain. Then you’ll have mine.”
Your eyes twinkle with glee at his semi-approval. “We have a deal then.”
You go back to where you’re seated a while ago and proceed to start discussing at hand.
--
With the start of the game season, training has become more intense. Coach Mira had the team work on the weak points she identified with the help of the data you tallied from last season’s games.
“Kyoutani! Do not lower those arms just yet. Keep those elbows up when you block,” Coach yells at him, as Kogane spiked from the other side of the court.
She looks over at the other players practicing their jump serves. She furrows her brows at something. Following her line of sight, you see that it falls on Tsukishima.
On his next serve, the ball spins ferociously but is of low height that it hits the middle of the night.
“Y/n,” Coach calls out. She didn’t have to say anything else as she cocks her head to Tsukishima’s direction with a telling expression on her face. She’s asking you to handle him, and you know exactly why.
Before he can toss the ball for another jump serve, you yell out merrily which you know will definitely catch his ears, “ Tsukki!! ” and jog to where he is. His blank expression turns into a scowl when you reach him.
“Can you stop calling me that?”
“You’re so mean. Aren’t we close enough for me to call you ‘ Tsukki ’?.” You ask with a dramatic pout and exaggerated false woes that he visibly cringes after hearing it.
He doesn’t respond to your pretentious act. “Why are you here?”
You instantly lose the cheeky act and get to what Coach Mira wants to let him know. You’re just going to twist the words a bit to his ‘liking.’
This is the problem you noticed with Tsukishima, one worse than his rotten way of interacting with the team. He can be incredibly unmotivated at times, and when he is, he only gives the bare minimum amount of effort.
It’s the one thing you can say you truly dislike about him because he’s a professional athlete for crying out loud. It doesn’t matter if he’s unmotivated, uninspired, or doesn’t feel like trying. He should be disciplined enough to push himself to put as much work as he usually does when training.
“You’re not going to get those serves in with that half-assed attitude of yours,” you say sternly while you eye him with a threatening stare.
His face scrunches in utter displeasure. He’s well aware that he’s not feeling his best today and he’d rather do blocking drills for the whole raining than do ten consecutive jump serves.
“Since enthusiasm is the answer to everything else, why don’t you try it?” He bites back, which you obviously weren’t expecting. He’s always irritated when you point out his mistakes, but thus far he has always stayed silent.
Maybe the amount of time you’re spending together outside the gymnasium has made him reach the limit of his patience… which isn’t even a lot to begin with.
“Are you serious?” you ask incredulously.
Of course he wasn’t. You might have some sort of experience with volleyball (although he doesn’t know to which extent), but jump serves are difficult. The coordination of the toss and the run up to hit it at the right angle is aggravatingly hard to pull off, especially for him since jump serves need tons of practice.
He detests the practice for it; he needs to run, jump, and swing his arm over and over. It is boring and tiring for him because it is purely based on physical prowess, compared to practicing blocking where he’s actually thinking.
He thought you’d leave him alone when you stepped away. Instead, you come back with a ball in your hand. You dribble it off the floor with unbendable focus as if you’re trying to recall something.
“Are you serious?” he’s the one who asks this time. He was just fucking around. He didn’t expect you’d actually respond to his provocation.
“Yep,” you answer with your full concentration on the ball in your hand as you spin it vertically. Some of the players notice what you’re up to and briefly stop what they’re doing to watch.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You bat them open with burning determination before you toss the ball.
Instead of watching the ball, he watches your form. There’s no trace of awkwardness in your movements, almost like you’ve done this frequently before. The three-step approach is nearly perfect as you propel yourself up to jump.
The sharp sound of the ball hitting your hand causes the rest of the gym to look at you. The ball spins ferociously at a height he’s not sure is sufficient to get over the other side of the court. He wishes it won’t. That would be the second worst thing you could ever do to him, the first one being that certain occurrence he’d rather not think about again.
You falter on your feet when you descend from your leap but you immediately look up to see if your serve makes it. Everyone else, including him, is on the edge as they watch whether the ball will get in or not.
It roughly scrapes the edge of the net, effectively thwarting its velocity. Still, it bounces off and lands inside the opposing court, causing the rest of the team to cheer you on as the ball hits the floor.
You seem to forget for a short while that you did it to spite him as your face beams with inexplicable joy while his contorts with ire.
Even if the momentum of the ball was broken, you still managed to get it over - the one thing he hadn’t been able to do from his last eight attempts. Meanwhile, you did it on your first.
You definitely had a lot of experience in high school. No beginner can manage to do a jump serve like that, even if it was flawed.
‘Shit,’ he silently curses when you face him with a cocky grin disguised as a pleasant one.
“Who knew that my experience being an outside hitter and captain of my high school team would still be useful as your manager?” you ask as you slowly walk towards him.
He doesn’ expect that your knowledge about the sport came from first-hand experience. He thought you’re manager of another team previously or just a crazy volleyball enthusiast.
You pick up another ball and softly push it against his rib as you look up to him with contempt. “Don’t tell me I can do better than you,” you spur him on with squinted eyes.
He snatches the ball away from your hands and steps back from the serving line. He spins the ball one time and tosses it high. Instead of a three-step approach, he makes it a four to increase his vertical jump. He tosses it high enough and channels all his rage for you at the ball.
With how high he jumped, the ball easily goes over the net. Its trajectory curves when it crosses over and hits a spot a little bit just beyond the end line.
He clenches his fist at his another failed attempt despite exerting more than necessary effort for that shot. He avoids looking at you for he’d be put in an even worse mood if sees that taunting grin of yours.
But of course you had to make yourself seen and intentionally go in front of him with an impressed look in your face instead of a condescending one.
“That was great! Holy shit. It was just a smidge out. Wow.” You applaud him earnestly, and as much as he despises it, it makes him a little less bad about that missed shot.
“Can you leave me alone now?” He drives you away to fend off the stupid feeling. He’d rather you just walk away and don’t say anything. “Not like that serve mattered,” he mutters in annoyance.
“What are you talking about? It was awesome!” you yell out with your eyes shining with flagrant admiration, which annoyingly strokes his ego.
“Just a bit less and it would have been in a spot difficult to return,” you remark as you pat his shoulders approvingly before heeding his request to leave and go back to where Coach is.
“Sorry, Coach. I distracted everyone else,” you scratch your head with an apologetic smile when you return.
“I’d tell you off, but everyone seems more motivated now, so good work I guess,” she commends you with a satisfactory tone.
“He looks really pissed though,” Coach Mira adds as she glances at the blonde middle blocker.
“More than you know, Coach,” you reply with a wide smile as he serves another ball and gets it in this time.
--
Prior to your meeting with Tsukishima today, you proposed to finish the project as soon as possible so you can both focus on other other uni subjects on top of training hours. He immediately agreed, which didn’t surprise you because even though it’s not game season, you’re pretty sure he can’t wait to stop having to see you.
The project’s deadline is in three months, but you believe you can finish it in less than two if you meet up at least twice a week to work on it.
It should be okay, given that you both agreed to have a truce of some sort from the usual dynamic of your relationship. You actually think that it’s not going to work out smoothly, but you still suggested it with the hopes of decreasing his animosity towards you. Yes, it’s fun and amusing most of the time, but outside the gym where you’re just a classmate and not his manager, it’s kinda draining to deal with it.
“Won’t your roommate mind if there’s a stranger in your room?” he asks as he sits down and rummages through his bag.
“Oh.” You thought he already figured it out because he didn’t ask about it on his first visit. “Didn’t I tell you before? I don’t have a roommate.”
His eyes immediately go to your bunk bed that you didn’t bother getting replaced because it’s convenient when you’re too tired. You usually just mindlessly throw your stuff at the top bunk for a later clean-up.
“Wanted the whole room to myself,” you add.
“Spoiled, little rich brat, aren’t you?” He really doesn’t have much basis for his statement. He just wants to say something nasty and sneer at you because he wants to get back at how you called him out during training the other day.
When he meets your gaze, you raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him about your agreement while working on the project. He purses his lips to the side and returns to his passive expression without saying anything. You roll your eyes in response.
“Well if being a scholar while working as your manager is being a spoiled rich brat, then by all means. Do consider me one,” you answer before looking back on your screen.
He would have never thought you were a university scholar. You don’t look like the type. You’re way too carefree and all over the place. He would’ve thought it was a joke, if not for the tiny offended glint he caught when he said you’re a spoiled brat.
That’s exactly the reaction he wants to get from you, yet it didn’t feel satisfactory. On the contrary, it’s making him feel like a prick. He is being one, but he doesn’t expect to feel like one, especially towards you who does nothing but get on his skin.
Still, hell would freeze over before he apologizes. Instead, he prods on the topic.
“Why would you even work as a manager if you’re already a scholar?”
It doesn’t make sense to him. You don’t need the work if your university fees are already waived. It will just pile on to the academic requirements you will need to maintain.
Your hand stops scrolling on your mouse as your eyes soften, still remaining on your laptop. “Cause I love it,” you utter like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
The look in your eyes is instantly replaced by mockery when you lift them to meet his.
“Someone’s being inquisitive today.”
He gets his headphones out and plugs it to his laptop. He really is curious why you chose you to be their manager, but you just had to be an obnoxious bitch and break the agreement you offered to him just the other day.
He knows you’re too much of a chaos to actually pull it off, so instead of wasting his energy by being irritated by you for the day, he’d rather pretend you’re not there.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you say loudly with a wide smile, yet he can see the sincerity of the apology through the slight panic in your orbs. You must have realized he’s had enough of your shit. “My bad. Old habits hard.” You laugh nervously.
You speak again when he puts down his headphones on the table. “I may have quit the sport, but I still love it. I love taking care of players like you guys who have the same passion for it.”
“Doesn’t seem like it’s worth it,” he comments with unheld honesty. You could have a lot of time off of your hands if you quit being their manager. You don’t even need the job.
You plant your hands on the floor and lean back as your gaze drifts to the photos of the team displayed on your desk.
“You might be right. A marine science student dedicating her time on sports even though she’s not an athlete? It does sound impractical. But,” you revert your eyes back to him as you continue on, “it makes me happy. That alone makes it worth it. Even if I don’t get paid, I’d still do it.”
Your face glows with pride and joy with your last statement, completely undeterred by his earlier cynicism. If anything, you look even more convinced that you’re doing the right thing.
He can’t tell if he finds it admirable or disturbing. Probably the latter.
“There’s more to life than just sleep, study, and survive, don’t you think?”
It was a rhetorical question that he would’ve still refuted if someone told him that years ago. Back in his freshman year in high school, he thought overzealous passion was stupid. Unless an individual is some sort of prodigy, it wouldn’t get them anywhere even if they keep trying to death.
Still, he put in a lot of work -- more than he should -- when he was playing in Karasuno. What was just a club became entirely something else for him, which, up until now, he still hasn’t put quite a finger on.
When he graduated from Karasuno, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to continue playing, but there was a nagging feeling behind his head that he shouldn’t. He thought that that part of his life was already over and while it was good while it lasted, it was time to move one.
Yet, when he was handed out an application form for the university’s college team, he found himself grabbing the sheet of paper.
He didn’t have any reason to pursue it beyond high school. He knows he’s good, but he’s not that good. He was at university already. It was time to focus on his future and ignore the itch to hold the ball with five other players on his side of the court.
What’s even more absurd was the next day, he submitted the application form and tried out for the team. He said to himself it wouldn’t hurt to go on playing until he has finally had enough. He’d just ride it out until he got tired of it.
In his sophomore year, he was scouted by Sendai Frogs and that’s when he knew that the unreasonable passion he has for volleyball is not going to go away. Even now in his graduating semester, he’s still not ready to give it up.
He won’t admit it in your face, but, in a way, he can agree with what you just said. Life is more than just getting by and surviving. That’s the only reason he can think of to justify his choice to continue volleyball: so that he wouldn’t have this constant dissonance that pursuing the sport is a vacuous path he’s treading on.
“Anyways, back to work now, yeah?”
You smile briefly at him and return to the research you’re tasked to do. He puts his headphones back in his bag and gets back to his own task as well.
He thought all is well and you won’t pester him until you both finish what you’re supposed to accomplish for the day. Unfortunately, he thought wrong.
You suddenly close your laptop and start whining.
“Tsukki.”
As usual, he does his best to not acknowledge your existence.
“Tsukkiii, ” you whine louder.
For the love of God, you sound the most annoying when you use his nickname. Even though you’ve used it several times now, he’s still not used to it. In fact, he does not believe he will ever get used to it. Shimizu and Yachi not even once called him that, and they were more respectable managers than you are. Sort of. It doesn’t matter that you’re more active and hands on when managing the team.
“Tsuuuk -”
“What?!” You successfully manage to get his eyes off the screen.
“I’m bored,” you pout.
He glares at you unbelievably. What are you, a five-year-old?
“And that is my problem, how?” he asks with disdain.
“Aren’t you getting tired?” you ask back, unfazed by his blatant irritation. But then again, you never are.
He is getting tired too, but he’d rather drag his brains and eyes out than rest and extend the time he’s going to spend with you.
“Let’s take a break, please, ” you cry out with pleading eyes.
“I don’t care what you do. Just leave me out of it.” He puts his attention back on his laptop and looks for the journal article he found significant among the other tabs he opened.
“I’ll feel guilty if I see you still at it while I goof around,” you admit.
He really couldn’t care any less. None of what you’re blabbering about is any of his concern. If you keep at it, he’ll just take out his headphones again to drown out your childish whining.
“I know!” You suddenly perk up. “Let’s review for our quiz,” you suggest eagerly. “We have one tomorrow, right?”
He almost smirks at your suggestion, but he manages to suppress it. He’d rather not let you see that he’s pleasantly amused with your suggestion.
He didn’t expect that that was your idea of taking a break. He thought you were going to propose something completely absurd like watch stupid videos online because that’s something he could totally see you doing on your free time.
But yeah, he can definitely use a review. It would be a productive break from the strenuous researching and writing you two have been doing.
Even though he still hasn’t verbally agreed, you continue on. “To make it interesting, there’s a penalty for every wrong answer.”
He sits up straight, pushing his glasses closer to his face as you successfully gain his full attention. “What penalty?”
Your smile widens when you realize that he’s finally acknowledging your idea of taking a break.
“Okay, okay.” You rub your hands together in excitement before you clasp them together. “For every wrong answer you get, you need to say something nice about me. And of course vice versa.”
He scowls at the idea. “I prefer the opposite. Get the answer wrong and you get insulted. That sounds more of a punishment.”
You shake your head with your lips pressed into a thin line from disapproval. “Nope. If I get even one wrong answer. I’m sure you’ll get into a litany of rude shit you piled up against me over the years. And I’ll just sit here uncaringly receiving your fury. Does that excite you?”
Hell no. It will infuriate him even more if he throws something at you and you just take it apathetically. But he still doesn’t agree with your initial mechanics. It’s not fair to him.
“No, it doesn’t. But the consequence of a wrong answer is too easy for you.”
You place a palm on your chest and gape at him. “Me? Too easy for me ?”
You break into a boisterous laugh while still maintaining eye contact with him. He just stares back at you stupefied with no idea what you found so hilarious.
“Tsukishima,” you say after recovering from your disparaging hoots of laughter. “I can think of literally one nice thing about you. Maybe two if I tried hard enough,” you explain with your face still crinkled with the laughter you’re trying hard to contain.
If you’re trying to provok him to take on your challenge, you definitely succeeding. “Fine,” he hisses.
Your laughter is completely thwarted when your eyes widen with delight as he succumbs to your plan.
“Great! Okay, two more rules. One, objective questions only. Two, we can’t say anything that involves Volleyball. For example, you can’t tell me that I’m a great manager, because I’m very much aware of that already, okay?”
His frown only deepens from your conceitedness, only to realize that that’s the only aspect of you he’d consider complimenting you about.
“But there is nothing else nice about you other than that,” he says without any trace of sarcasm or ridicule, only stating what he considers the truth.
But you don’t take any offense in his statement. You’re expecting as much. That’s why you added two more rules to push the both of you to take the review seriously.
“Better not get anything wrong then,” you counter easily because it’s as simple as that. It’s a review just for a quiz after all. He shouldn’t be that worried.
“Thirty minutes to review. Then let’s start the quiz?”
You take that he’s fine with it since he closes his laptop and gets his set of notes from his bag.
You get your phone and set a thirty minute timer. You do just as he does and focus on your own notes, skimming over the last two chapters covered during lectures. You concentrate on your learning materials but the alarm sets off after what seemed like ten minutes to you.
You frantically check your phone to see if you put the wrong time, but you didn’t. Thirty minute have indeed passed.
When you glance at Tsukishima, he’s already looking at you with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. He must have finished before the timer went off. He wouldn’t have that smug expression if not.
Even though you haven’t fully gone over the last parts of the lesson covered, you can’t help but be enlivened at how competitive he is. He must really hate losing.
You notice it too with the way he plays volleyball. He might look calm on the surface, but you know he wants to crush his opponents. And right now, that opponent is you.
His muted excitement affects you. Even though you’re not totally prepared, you’re confident with your own wits.
“Ladies first, so go ahead, Tsukishima.”
He clicks his tongue, his usual habit when he’s irked with something, but this one was forced to make it appear as if he didn’t like what you said. But you can tell that he doesn’t give a shit about that and he actually can’t wait to ask away just to so you can get it wrong.
Unfortunately for him though, you two are just exchanging questions when your mini game starts. He answers your questions without hesitation and you do just the same since most of his questions are in your own list that’s supposed to be for him.
“What’s the movable membrane found on the eyes of amphibians?” It’s his sixth question that has you racking your brain for the correct answer. When you don’t respond immediately, he sniggers like he’s already won.
But you do know the answer, or at least the first letter of it. It's the letter N. N-something membrane.
“Nictaling membrane,” you answer unsurely.
The spread of his wicked smile immediately tells you you’re wrong. “It’s nictating,” he corrects you.
“Oh come on! I’m just one letter off,” you strongly reason out.
“Yeah, and that would still be marked wrong in the actual quiz,” he refutes.
Damn it. He’s right. That one letter makes a whole lot of difference your professor will definitely not let go.
He places one elbow on the table and rests his chin at the back of his hand, keeping his eyes trained on you as he silently anticipates for you to pay the price of your penalty.
You bite your lip disquietly when you realize the rule you set was a double-edged sword for you can’t also think of anything nice to say about him. There’s that terrible attitude of his which is usually your source of fun, but not exactly something you can call nice.
You have something in your mind, but your pride won’t let you voice it out.
He starts tapping the table with his fingers. “You’re wasting both our time, y/n.”
You accept your defeat and tell him anyway. “Fine. I think you’re smarter than me,” you confess.
You expect him to agree unanimously, but instead he looks at you stupefied, blinking a few times without saying anything.
“But you’re a scholar,” he remarks. You’re not sure if he just disagreed with you or he’s just putting that fact out in the open.
“Well, yeah. But I’m just really good at studying and have good time management. You’re actually smart. You’re critical with stuff,” you explain.
You cheated a bit with your answer since most of your basis is from volleyball games. Although your trip last time is also proof of that. He provided really good input on how you should go about with the project.
“Okay! Moving on,” you proceed before he can comment further on what you just said and milk it to his benefit.
You ask another question, which he also knows that correct answer to. Originally, you just wanted a fun but effective way of reviewing, but now you kind of want him to get at least one question wrong so you can get even.
“What do you call the structure the lower vertebrae of anurans is fused into?” he asks another difficult question.
You rub your palms on your face, your frustration clouding your mind from recalling what it could possibly be. You push your hair back and sigh when you realize that you’re not getting this one either.
“I don’t know,” you surrender.
His current expression is the most lively one you’ve ever seen from him outside volleyball games, but it isn't a pleasant one. He looks like a villain whose evil master plan is coming to fruition.
Maybe you should’ve just agreed with his earlier suggestion to get insulted when you get it incorrectly. You would’ve just sit it out and brush it off afterwards, not make your brain hurt even more from thinking about non-existent good traits from the guy across your table.
You look around as you desperately try to think of something remotely nice about him.
“Oh,” your eyes meet his right the moment you recall that instance, and form a genuine smile as you remember it once more.
“It was real nice of you to let me lean on you on the way back to Miyagi last week.”
He removes his elbow from the table and fixes his posture, losing the lax and confident aura he had two questions ago.
“You would have woken up face down on the bus floor if I didn’t,” he says defensively as if what he did needs that explanation for it to be acceptable.
You honestly thought he’d rather let you fall flat on the floor. You’re about to ask him back then if he was sure, but you just accepted his angry, yet generous offer which you didn’t expect to come from him.
“I know. I just didn’t think you’d let me rest on your shoulder, so thanks,” you say earnestly, not a trace of your usual cheekiness present.
“It felt nice and comfortable” you add reservedly. You’ve been wanting to thank him but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward for you’re only used to dealing with grouchy Tsukishima.
It’s only then you realize that despite his palpable dislike towards you, he’s not a complete asshole and still cared enough for your welfare that time.
He remains expressionless with his eyes drifting down to his notes, avoiding your gaze as he does so. “The answer is coccyx, also called urostyle,” he ushers back to the question you got wrong, dismissing what you just divulged, which you’re thankful for because you feel like fidgeting with what just dawned on you.
“My turn again then!” you said too loudly as you try to shake off the feeling and put your focus back on the review.
You read the only item left in your list, still hoping that he gets it wrong since this is the last.
“What part of the amphibian nervous system regulates heart and respiratory rates?”
Unlike previous questions, he doesn’t answer off the bat this time.
“You’re wasting both our time, Tsukishima,” you repeat what he said to you earlier even though it's only been seconds after you uttered your question.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know the answer,” he declares with reassured confidence. “It’s the cerebrum.”
You decide to hold his gaze for two second before you burst his bubble. “Fucking finally!” you rejoice in his defeat.
“Close enough, Tsukishima. It’s the cerebellum,” you announce all too cheerfully.
He hurriedly gets his notes and cross checks if you’re actually telling the truth. You just watch him scramble with a very pleased smile on your face as he goes rigid.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He must have seen that you were telling the truth.
You start squirming in your seat. Oh man, you’re way too excited to hear what he has to say about you. You want to egg him on, to tell him to hurry up but that might affect what he’s going to say so you force yourself to shut up.
He raises his gaze at you while you make sure you’re not smiling too wide to annoy him even though you’re reeling from anticipation.
He still doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s thinking based on the way he’s studying your face.
“You have a slightly above average face.”
You run that by again in your head, not understanding what he meant by it at first.
Above average face? Did he just say you’re pretty if translated from a socially incapacitated person’s language? Is that why he was staring so hard at you?
Of all the things he could choose to say something about, he decides to compliment your appearance? You know that you're a bit good-looking, but you don’t think he notices it. He doesn’t seem to be the type to care about that stuff.
Even when you first met, he just looked at you with a vacant expression and greeted you blandly out of courtesy while the rest of the team ogled at you. His apathetic eyes eventually turned scornful over time because of how often you pick on him, and despite that, he does acknowledge that you are pretty.
You’re used to being showered with admiration because of your face so you’ve developed a natural response to it: a gleeful smile with a spritely ‘aww, thanks!’
But with Tsukishima, it doesn’t kick in. Instead, you avert your gaze away from the unwanted fluttering in your chest. You can’t even look him in the eye as you try to collect yourself and think how you’ll respond to that without looking flustered.
What the heck is wrong with you? That could hardly be called a compliment. Now that you think about it, it actually sounded sort of like a product review with its lack of any fondness.
With that in mind, you manage to regain some of your composure and offer him a faint. “Um, thanks.”
Tsukishima looks at his two remaining questions he listed and even though he’s winning the game, he doesn’t feel victorious at all. Your confessions did nothing to make him feel good about himself. They were too sincere that they made him uneasy.
He also doesn’t like that he had to admit you’re pretty. He expected you’re gonna make a fuss about it. He actually would’ve preferred that than you being uncharacteristically embarrassed about it.
Something weird is definitely going on. You’re not acting like yourself and neither is he. There had been too many opportunities to badger you, but he just let them pass by. Same with you. You could have easily teased him about letting you know he finds you attractive.
“I’m out of questions,” he lies to end the damn review.
“Me too, actually,” you say with an apprehensive laugh.
So it’s not just him. You also feel the change in the atmosphere between you two. Your smile is uncertain and you look like you don't know what to do to remedy the situation -- that is, if you even know what’s wrong with it because he sure as hell doesn’t.
But even if he has no idea what’s going on, fortunately, he knows how to end it.
“I’m tired. I’m calling it a day,” he says as he starts packing up his stuff.
You seem to agree since you don’t say anything and just watch him collect his things. You only react when he stands up.
“Oh yeah. Sure!” You stand up as well.
“I can see my way out on my own,” he stops you when you start to head for the door.
You freeze on the spot then nod timidly. “Okay.”
As soon as he steps out and closes the door, you plop yourself back to where you were sitting. You grasp the edges of your table as you softly bang your head against it, gasping a heavy breath of relief when the air becomes undoubtedly lighter after he is gone.
“What the fuck was that?” you mumble with your cheek against the wooden surface.
Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist
taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)
@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @mitzuya @yamigoop
#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima smut#tsukishima angst#haikyuu x reader#tags pls work
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