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#surprisingly i think these two have the same kill count
sanakiras · 13 hours
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LIAR, LIAR! [TEASER]
PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader
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WORD COUNT — 1.4k
RELEASE DATE — TBA, will probably take a while!
SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.
TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, dark comedy if u ask me, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst
♪ aquartos - crystal city,, verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex
NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. enjoy :D
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i. TWO WEEKS SINCE THE MURDER
the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.
“on september 2nd, sometime around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police received a call from you, saying your father’s hung himself.”
you stare at the the inspector whose name you did not bother remembering before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”
with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”
“no, i don’t.”
“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what happened, since there were no witnesses.”
“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”
he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that is the case?”
“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with other miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”
“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.
you can only sigh. “i was his daughter by blood only. that’s all.”
with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”
that sparks your interest. “who?”
the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.
“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.
“what can you tell me about him?”
“he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”
“anything else?”
keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”
“any particular reason why?”
“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”
the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”
“such as?”
his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”
your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”
“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”
“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.��
“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”
scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.
this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.
you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.
which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.
your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.
and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.
as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.
his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”
“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”
your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”
“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”
he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”
it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.
“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”
he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”
“neither am i.”
it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.
a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair. you proceeded to laugh in his face.
mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.
“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”
instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”
you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”
a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”
only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.
so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.
mingyu’s eyes remain on you until you move past the corner. he only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.
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if you’d like to be tagged in this once it’s released, leave a comment! <3
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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bandagemanl0ver · 4 months
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i forgot to post this here. i think it’ll do better in tumblr.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru
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satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.
“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”
“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.
it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.
satoru is not handling it well.
“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”
“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”
oh dear.
“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”
“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”
suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.
you think this might be the end.
“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”
“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”
“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.
“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”
“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”
“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”
satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.
you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”
suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.
not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.
“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”
“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.
“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.
“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.
“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”
“hey, leave my hair out of this—”
“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.
suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.
“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”
“he is not—”
“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”
suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”
“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”
you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.
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i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already
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dmysterioblog · 1 year
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♢ Crazy
Paring: Harley Quinn x psychiatrist!reader
Summary: You were assigned to be Harley Quinn's new psychiatrist and things take a turn.
Warnings; darkish, smut, kidnapping,
Word Count: 2.0k
A/n: Nothing…
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You were known as Dr. L/n. You were the greatest psychiatrist in Gotham. Recently you were given the offer to treat the famous Harley Quinn. You accepted, of course, you loved a challenge.
“Be careful, she is crazier than you think and not many people have come out alive.”
“Oh, I know. I’m willing to take the risk.”
They opened the door for you and you went in. You looked around the room. The paint on the walls was falling off, there was a metal table in the middle with two chairs. You found Harley huddled up in the corner of the dull room. You hear her distant mumbling from where you stood. You walked closer but not too close, you didn’t want to scare her off.
“Hey Harley, my name is Dr. L/n, your new psychiatrist,” you say softly not to startle her. She slowly lifted her head to look at you. You were met with her icy blue gaze. Her eyes screamed ‘crazy’, but there was something more underneath that, almost a hint of curiosity. She was in a straightjacket for your and her protection.
“Why don’t we sit over there and we can start?” you carefully said pointing to the chairs in the middle of the room. Her gaze followed your finger, then she gave a single nod. You walked closer to try and help her but she made a gesture to try and bite you and you jumped away from her. She started to laugh hysterically.
“I bite, doctor,” she said with a wicked smile. You should’ve known she would do something like that. You took a deep breath and collected yourself.
“Can you get up by yourself then?”
She pushed herself against the wall and started to get up herself. She plopped herself in the chair and you did the same. You looked over at her and she was still looking at you with a mischievous expression.
“Why don’t we start with a simple question? How are you feeling?” You knew it was a dumb question but you had to start somewhere. She just stared at you and started to giggle.
“You know the voices usually tell me to kill anyone that stands in front of me but not right now,” she said while tilting her head to the side.
“So, you hear voices that tell you what to do?”
“Not all the time. Sometimes it’s just me doing what I want.”
“Are you hearing voices right now?”
“No. Wait, yes! Actually no.”
“Okay, well is there anything in particular that stop the voices?”
“Not really they talk when they wanna talk, ya know?”
“Do you think your relationship with Joker caused the voices to begin?” Her eyes darken.
“DO YOU EVER MENTION THAT MAN EVER AGAIN!” She yelled getting up from her chair.
“Hey, Harley, it's ok! I won’t ask about him again, okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Please sit down.” She huffed but obeyed your request.
You continued with the session but you didn’t get much out of her. She kept looking around the room humming to herself. She also kept looking at you up and down from time to time. In the end, you thanked her for cooperating and left.
The guard seemed surprised when you walked out of the room without a scratch. You walked back to your car with an uneasy feeling about Harley. Not a bad feeling but something you shouldn’t feel for a patient, even less someone like Harley Quinn.
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The sessions kept getting more frequent by Harley’s request surprisingly. She talked more and at some points, she seemed like a normal person but the glint in her eyes would always come back. Each session she got more flirty and charming towards you.
You, of course, tried your best to ignore it but you would find yourself thinking back to the things she would say in your alone time. If you kept this up, you were going to lose your job.
You were now going through security again to see Harley. When you opened the door to where the session was being held, you were met with a bruised Harley.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?!” Out of worry, you gently held her face with your hand to get a closer look.
“Some guy tried to take my lunch so I punched him and he punched me back,” she shrugged, her eyes tracing every detail on your face.
“Are you gonna kiss me doctor?” she got closer to your face until her lips hovered over yours and for some reason, you didn’t back away. After a few seconds of staring at each other, she finally kissed you. You froze at first but returned the kiss.
You brought your other hand to cup her face being careful not to put too much pressure on the bruised side of her face. So many thoughts ran through your head in that moment. Her lips are so soft. She is so beautiful. What if someone walks in? When you thought of that, you immediately pulled away.
“We can’t do this Harley, I could lose my job.”
“Get me out of here then.”
“You know I can't do that. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to end this here before it gets any further.”
“Y/n don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“I'm sorry Harley, but this is going to be our last session.” You gathered your things and knocked on the door for the guards to let you out. Once they opened it, you looked at her one last time before leaving.
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Harley sat in her cell thinking of you. How could you leave her like that? She wasn’t going to give up that easily though. She was going to do anything to get you back. But first, she needed to escape from the asylum.
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You sat in your office doing a patient's paperwork when your secretary barged into your office.
“Evelyn, what’s wrong?”
“Turn on the news, now!”
You quickly grabbed your office TV remote. When you turned it on and looked for the news channel and turned up the volume.
“Breaking news. Harleen Quinzel or better known as Harley Quinn has escaped the Arkham Asylum. Please be on the lookout for her. If you see her, call the number on the screen.”
Your heart dropped. Did she do this to get to you? How would you face her? Evelyn turned off the TV before turning to you.
“I think you should stay at home for a few days. At least until they get her just to be safe. I can clear your schedule if you’d like?”
“I think that’s a good idea. Thank you so much, Evelyn.” You gathered your things and headed home.
When you finally got home, you parked your car in your garage before making your way inside your house. You unlocked your door and walked in. You took off your shoes, placed your things on the counter, and made your way upstairs.
When you walked into your room, you noticed your window was open, which was weird since you always close your windows. When you tried to close it someone came from behind you and put a cloth over your mouth. You began to struggle to get away from the person’s grip.
“Shh sh sh, just breathe in for me doctor. We can finally be together now.” That was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness.
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When you woke up you noticed that you weren’t in your bed or your room. Flashbacks from the night before started to flow through your mind. Somehow you didn’t feel the presence of Harley sitting in the dark corner of the room.
“You’re finally awake!” she said coming out of the dark. You whipped your head towards her.
“Harley…” You just stared at her as she slowly walked towards the bed you were lying on, “Harley, where are we?” you asked carefully.
“You don’t have to worry about that now doctor, we can finally be together,” she smiled, sitting next to you.
“Harley, all of Gotham is looking for you. You have to let me go okay?”
“Of course, we can still be together. They are never going to find us here.”
“What about me?! My job?! My life?!” you got off of the bed and started to tear up.
“You can start a new life with me in this house, you don’t have to worry, I'll take care of everything.” She came closer to you and brought you into a hug, petting your hair. You wanted to back away from her but your body didn’t let you.
“Relax Y/n. Everything is going to be just fine.” She pulled away and cupped your face like you did before leaving her in the asylum. She brought you into a soft kiss in which you gave in. Slowly, she guided you back to the bed until the back of your knees hit the side of the bed. She softly pushed you onto the bed and straddled your hips.
You wanted to protest but she just shushed you with a kiss. She began to take your clothes off, item after item until you were completely bare before her. She kissed down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of love bites in her wake. She placed her thigh in between yours and you started grinding against her.
“I couldn’t let you go that easily, doctor. You’re the only thing that stops the voices and for that, I'm going to make you feel so good just breathe for me okay?” She took off her clothes as well before moving her thigh away from your core. Without warning, she slipped her fingers into your pussy while sucking on your breasts.
“Harley!” you gasped, your hand coming up to cover your moans.
“No no no, I wanna hear you, baby,” she said, pinning your hands with her free hand. Eventually, her mouth joined her skilled fingers, sucking on your clit.
“Oh God!” you moaned loudly while grinding your hips against her face. You were getting closer to the edge but before you could get there, Harley stopped.
“Why’d you-”
“Shh, I’m gonna give you what you want just be patient.” She interlocked your legs so that her pussy was aligned with yours. She leaned down and pulled you into a passionate kiss before she started rubbing her pussy against yours. You both moaned from the pleasure that cursed through your bodies.
“You like that doctor? Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes, yes! It feels so good, Harley. Please don’t stop.” She started going faster while still kissing you, all your moans going against her lips. Her movements started to get sloppy, letting you know she was close.
“Are you close, baby?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, unable to make coherent words.
“Come for me.” And you did.
“Harley!” You cried out when you reached your climax. Your hands gripping onto Harley’s back for support. You lied on the bed panting while Harley moved away, not before she rubbed her fingers in your wetness and brought them to your mouth.
“Open,” she commanded and you proceeded. You sucked her fingers clean, humming at the taste. She then licked your pussy clean before laying down on the bed next to you.
“You’re mine now and nothing will ever take you from me again,” she whispered into your ear before bringing your body closer to hers. You wanted to be scared of that sentence but it brought a sense of comfort that someone wanted you. She wanted you.
“I’m all yours,” you said into her ear. You felt her hold on you tighten a bit when you said that. She drew invisible circles against your arm until you fell asleep.
🃃🃟🃃🃟
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vampiric-hunger · 4 months
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𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕖
pair: Ascended!Astarion x female!reader
tags: no y/n is used, rating - E, smut, improper use of charm spell (sorta), vampiric charming, dub-con I guess?, PiV, fingering, blood drinking, creampie, breeding kink, waiter there's a tiny bit of plot in my porn
summary: only a stupid rogue would try to rob a suspected Vampire Lord but here you are, doing exactly that. well, right until you get caught with your greedy fingers picking a lock. surprisingly enough, Lord Astarion is not mad when he finds a thief in his chambers. how (un)fortunate you are that he thinks you're beautiful. and his punishment might yet become a reward instead.
word count: 4,257
a/n: Astarion breeding kink this, breeding kink that, well, here i am trying my own hand at it for the very first time ever. i don't know how good it is but i had fun writing it! this one shot started as something else, but well, here we are, being horny. enjoy! <3
p.s. in regards of "improper use of charm spell" tag - Astarion is using his vampiric charm on reader, she is completely under his control for most of the fic and thus i marked this as dubcon but she only truly consents towards the end of it. so if you're not into this type of thing click out.
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You’re stupid, oh yes you are.
You suspected so even before you broke into the palace.
Like last night, when at the Blushing Mermaid your thieving buddies dared you to break into this grand home and steal an item two of them have been hired to steal. By whom? That never matters in your line of work. But you were drunk and too proud of your own skill in thievery. You boasted that you could do it the next night and so they dared you. You took their dare but when you woke up this morning you realized how badly this could end.
Breaking into the palace of a suspected Vampire Lord is something you never attempted nor have many others. But here you are now, attempting the stupidest heist of your life and only now you’re realizing just how stupid indeed you have been the night before and even more so tonight, for coming here, for breaking in and making it this far. Shit, you don’t even remember what consequences of failing this dare are anymore, you were too arrogant in your drunken haze and you might actually get killed.
So now you’re here, in a small, windowless, positively secret room, adjacent to Lord’s bedroom, your focus on the pedestal in front of you.
“A pretty little thing, aren’t you?” a smooth, almost silky voice comes from behind you and yet it feels like an assault.
You freeze, your fingers extended over a small metal chest that you were picking a lock of just a moment ago. You knew the risks coming here, or at least you hoped you did. And now it looks like you got caught in the act.
As you straighten your back and turn around you are met with crimson eyes, a toothy smirk and relaxed body language of a man who you came here to steal from. Astarion, the newest Lord of Baldur’s Gate, latest patriarch of Szarr palace, a charming man that you heard rumors about of being an actual vampire. Undesirable creatures tend to know of one another’s existence. Him – possibly a dangerous monster and you – a thief and a dagger for hire. For a moment you wonder what will happen if this confrontation comes to fighting. You doubt you could win. Even without confirmation of his possible immortality Lord Astarion has a certain aura about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.
You eye him slowly, carefully, examining smallest details. His demeanor doesn’t seem threatening but you see those fangs in his mouth and you know what they can do, you know the power he must possess. Yes, it’s no rumor after all, he is a vampire. And if the same rumors are correct – a very powerful one. He doesn’t need a dagger in his hand to be extremely dangerous and you’re not enough of a fool to pick a fight with a Vampire Lord unless you have to.
“Can I assume you’re not here to give me a key?” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re not going to be intimidated by him.
You have one more trick up your sleeve if things go murderously bad, a ring of teleportation that you rarely use because it tends to trigger magical defenses but since Astarion already caught you there’s no reason to avoid using it if you can’t talk your way out of the situation. And you will try to talk your way out of it because you have too much pride to scuttle away like a spooked rat.
Vampire’s eyes slide down your body smoothly like a viper, then back up again. Another glance to the metal box behind you and then back to your eyes. He tilts his face to an angle, giving you a curious look.
“I could. But I do wonder what are you doing here. And more so, I am dying to hear how you got inside without being noticed, how have you made it this far as to end up in my personal chambers.” his tone is still smooth like velvet and it gives you chills.
“Let’s say I’m good at what I do.” you smirk at him, despite your unease and tension in your body you are not going to show even a sliver of it to him.
“Indeed you are.” Astarion now steps closer and you move to the side when he approaches the box, placing his long, nimble fingers on it. You recognize a hand of a man who has picked many such locks himself in the past and you wonder about his history for a moment before he looks at you again, his eyes always on yours, almost never leaving.
“Do you know what’s in there, darling?” vampire asks and you cross your arms on your chest, shifting your weight on the other foot. Your goal is also to appear non-threatening but your muscles are tight as a spring.
“I was hoping it’s the Amulet of Weeping.” you say straightforwardly. You see no reason to lie because unless Astarion keeps something more in the box he knows perfectly well what you were trying to get.
Vampire chuckles lightly and taps his fingertips on the lid of the box.
“Indeed. Do you know what it does, you precious little thief?” the smirk on his lips and his eyes, forever locked on yours, it’s almost all you can see.
Yet his question makes you lose your cool. You look at the metal box and clear your throat, stalling for time but then look back at him.
“Well, actually I don’t. You see-“ a sudden finger on your lips, silencing you. If he’s a vampire, why his touch is so warm? And how in the Nine Hells he’s so fast? You didn’t even see him move, it was like a flash, it happened in a blink of an eye.
Oh yes, he’s even more dangerous than the tales you’ve heard.
“Shh. Don’t speak.” Astarion’s voice is soothing, alluring.
What is this… Why you feel so relaxed, so… warm? Your alertness starts to blunt, your caution begins to turn into curiosity and are you flushing? Your face feels hot and this change you feel somehow does not feel strange or unwelcome. It’s like being embraced, it’s like being caressed, you belong.
And all you can see is the crimson of his eyes.
“There we go. I’m sure you’re feeling better. Don’t resist, my dear, just relax, I’m not going to harm you. Maybe I will even reward you for being so brave.” Astarion croons with a voice like silk.
“Reward?” you ask, feeling like you’re in a dream. A voice in the back of your head tells you you’re being charmed but that voice is quickly snuffed out. It’s gone like a whisp of smoke from a candle that just got blown out. One moment it’s there and then not even a memory of it lingers.
“Yes, a reward, darling. Wouldn’t you like to be rewarded?” vampire’s fingers now grip your chin softly, lifting your face to his, his thumb traces your bottom lip.
“What… kind of reward?” even your own voice sounds distant now but you couldn’t care less. Those eyes… Those red eyes that bore into yours… They are everything.
“Ah, now what kind of reward we will have to see for ourselves.” Astarion smirks but his fangs don’t bother you anymore, if anything they look attractive, lighting a fire in your belly. “Let’s go, I’ll let you pick your reward, you little thief.”
With that he moves his fingers from your chin and wraps his arm around your shoulders, now leading you out of this small room. You follow without question or hesitation, but glance back at the box just once, trying to remember what was so special about it and why did you even come here. No, you don’t remember. And it doesn’t matter, not anymore.
When you look in front of you the door opens and a view of a lavish bedroom greets you. A big, luxurious bed with bedposts and parted drapes, all in black or red or gold. Simple glance around the room reveals several paintings, some bookshelves and cabinets, closets and a table, some comfortable looking armchairs. The carpet even under your boots feels soft, you almost want to lay down on it. But Astarion’s arm around your shoulders makes you walk further, towards the bed, and you barely register the door behind you closing.
Why are you here? Oh yes, the reward. When Astarion stops you just in front of the bed, his arm leaves you and he turns you to him by your shoulders. When your eyes land on his you smile. He’s so beautiful, so handsome, he’s the prettiest being you have ever seen. He sees your smile, your glazed over eyes and smiles in return.
“Not afraid of me, are you?” he asks and you slowly shake your head. “Very good. I must say, you are very very pretty, darling. What’s your name?”
Your name… Your name? What’s your name?
Your face scrunches in confusion, your eyes scan his chest and noses of your boots as if the answer is written somewhere in his noble’s attire or in the leather of your shoes. You look up at him again and Vampire Lord chuckles.
“Well, that matters not. You will remember soon enough.” Astarion uses both hands to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears and you smile at him again. His touch is soft, warm and wanted. “But, to get back to my point, you are beautiful.” he leans closer to your face, his smile and his eyes become your whole world. “And I like to collect beautiful things.”
“Things?” you echo and something once more tugs at your mind but then disappears again. You’re perfectly in his control. Under his gaze you can’t resist him.
Astarion does not bother to reply, his gaze sweeps down your body, analyzing every piece of clothing you’re wearing, then his nimble fingers begin unclasping your leather armor, taking it off piece by piece, dropping one item after another to the side of his feet. At first you don’t realize what’s going on, you just watch his face but when vampire slips the straps of your bra off your shoulders you finally blink in confusion.
When you look down at yourself you see yourself half naked, your nipples perk up at the contrast between the air of the room and the warmth of your clothing that just got removed. You rise your eyes to Astarion and see his smile once more. You don’t recognize the gentle malice in his expression but even if you did you wouldn’t care, not until the fog is lifted from your mind.
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” Vampire Lord whispers and his face is so close you can smell wine on his breath and… something else. Something metallic, coppery, you can’t put your finger on it.
Your face scrunches at the thought, your eyes move to his lips and his smile, you see the fangs.
Ah yes, that’s right, he’s a vampire.
Wait, what are you doing here?
You gasp, your thoughts get interrupted by Astarion pinching both your nipples at the same time. Again you feel the fire in your abdomen, you recognize it as desire and you look into his eyes, the crimson of them drowning you like a lake of blood. And you give in.
“I want something from you.” Vampire Lord’s whisper replaces your thoughts and you just stand there with your face flushed and your body reacting with a shiver because he’s still teasing your nipples. “Something you can give me with ease.” a pause, a moment passes, then you feel his palm press against the small of your back and push you towards him, against his chest. Your hands grasp his waist and your lips part. “Just give in, darling. And I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”
You see his grin and it would look dangerous to you if you weren’t completely in his control. Instead of fear you feel overwhelming lust and you close your eyes, turning your face up and inviting him for a kiss.
And Astarion does kiss you. His lips clash against yours in a hurry and passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, past your teeth, it tastes you and you taste him back. Yes, you recognize what it was that you smelled before – blood. You taste it on his lips, you taste it on his tongue and you don’t care. Your heart beats fast in your chest, your fingers now move to his clothing, trying to find clasps, buttons and laces. You manage to open his doublet, slip it off his shoulders. You don’t hear it falling to the floor, because only thing you’re hearing is your own heartbeat beating fast in your ears.
But then the kiss stops. You don’t know how long it lasted, a minute, an hour, a year? Still, you feel like it wasn’t enough, you don’t want it to stop and you barely open your eyes before you immediately try to kiss him again, eliciting a chuckle out of the Vampire Lord.
“How eager.” he comments but you don’t care. Your arms find his neck and you try to pull his head lower, to your level, your lips seek his with urgency, but with ease Astarion pushes you away. “Patience, my pet. I’ll reward you soon enough.”
You exhale in dizzy frustration but lower your hands, obeying. It’s easy to listen to him, you realize. What a pleasant feeling, you could do this forever.
“Stand still, darling.” Astarion’s voice reaches your ears and you return to the present.
You now watch him undo laces of your pants and slide them down your hips and thighs, together with your underwear, exposing you fully. You don’t know what shame is and you don’t remember how embarrassment feels like. You only know one thing – you want this man, you want him to take you and it’s hard not to start begging.
Astarion guides you while he takes off your pants and shoes, helping you step out of last bits of your clothing and when he raises again he puts one arm around your hips, leading you to the bed. It looks so soft, inviting. You want to spend forever in it with him. So when you feel vampire pat you on the ass, urging you to climb in, you do so without hesitation.
When you turn around and lay on your back, you have a moment to watch Astarion shed his own clothing in full. He takes his time, his eyes roaming up and down your nude body, his eyes would tell you of possessiveness and even a hint of cruelness if you could think straight, but right now you only see that he wants you. After he pulls his pants down and his eager erection is revealed, you swallow hardly. You want it in you, you want to taste it, you want to please him. You want to serve.
“Do you like what you see?” Astarion taunts and you nod without any shame, your lips part and you lick them, your gaze focused on his cock, so ready to make you his, maybe forever.
Vampire Lord kicks off his shoes at last, then removes his pants completely and after he straightens his back, you watch his hand grasp his shaft and give it a few slow strokes. After the third or fourth you notice precum glistening at the top of his cock.
“Ah…” is only thing you manage to say, your desire coiling and moving in you like a hungry snake. Your reaction makes Astarion chuckle and the sound of it forces yours eyes back on his once more.
He gets closer and climbs into bed slowly with a grace of a predator, his body moves on top of yours and you part your legs widely for him, welcoming him. You lean your head back, relaxing in the bed and Astarion once more sweeps your body with his gaze, stopping at your breasts.
“Touch yourself.” he commands and you immediately do so. Your hands raise, cup your breasts, your fingertips graze your nipples and then pinch them, roll them, tug at them gently while you do as instructed. You see how intensively Astarion is watching you, his smirk widens when you let out a soft moan, then another. You were ready for him already, this is just making it worse.
Finally he looks down, between your legs, and with one hand pressed against the bed for support with other he traces the inner side of your thigh up and then higher. When he touches your entrance, feels how wet you are for him, he exhales slowly. His fingers explore every inch of your sex, making you gasp and moan louder, then his thumb brushes against your clit, sending a shiver through your body.
“You’re so ready for me, pet.” Astarion’s voice is husky, it’s obvious he’s getting worked up too as his eyes dart between his own fingers exploring you and you playing with your nipples.
That dreamy feeling you’ve been feeling up until now lessens, maybe it’s because Astarion is less concentrated, maybe your own desire is making your mind begin to break free but you now realize that you’ve got seduced into this man’s bed. Yet you’re too aroused, too impassioned to stop here. And your body still screams to be taken, to be conquered and to be claimed.
And he’s just so beautiful. No, you’re not free from his charm and allure, not even close, and your mind focuses on his silver locks falling gracefully around his face, you see his eyes, now filled with lust and desire, examining every inch of your body. You feel his fingers making you moan with a practiced touch and you want more. So much more.
“Take me.” you hear yourself say with a gasp and your hips buck against his fingers as if your own body is out of your control, not only your thoughts.
Astarion now looks into your eyes and smiles.
“I’m going to do so much more, my dearest pet. I’m going to claim you, I’m going to fill your tight holes and then I’ll have you beg for more.” his words send a shiver down your body that pools between your thighs, his fingers tease your cunt and he immediately notices that you got even wetter, it makes him smirk. “I’ll make you mine, I’ll claim you, and I will keep filling you with my seed every night. And who knows, maybe you’ll give me an heir eventually.”
Silence falls while your face gets redder with his every word.
An heir? He wants you to do what? Yet his eyes are still your entire world and your body moves, your hips moving again, your cunt pressing against his fingers in need.
Yes, you will give him an heir. As long as you can be his.
Your hands leave your breasts and you put your palms on the back of his head, your fingers threading in his hair.
“Yes, I will.” you whisper and that reply rewards you with a passionate kiss.
Astarion’s fingers now leave your drenched seam and roughly pull your knee up, making you hook your leg around his waist. His chest presses against yours and you sigh against his lips.
And then he enters you. One swift thrust and he’s fully inside, stretching you almost to a point of uncomfortable fullness and you moan at that, your mouth remains open with the gasp but his lips are also parted, he’s enjoying the feeling of you around his cock. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and your fingers clench in his hair.
“Take me. Make me yours.” you whisper and a guttural growl escapes Astarion’s throat at your words. He doesn’t wait, he begins thrusting.
You close your eyes and moan, feeling his cock pierce you again and again. You’re so aroused his shaft is moving with satisfying ease, his hips snapping against you with increasing pace.
“Fuck, you’re going to look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” Astarion grunts and lowers his head to your neck, kissing it first, then nibbling the skin with his teeth. His hand grips your thigh strongly, keeping it up.
Only response you can give him is your moans, loud and unashamed. You hold onto his neck and hair while he rocks himself against you, filling you deeply with his cock, his thrusts unrelenting. It feels like he’s been going at it for hours and every second is better than the last.
Your mind swims from sensations. His sweaty skin against yours, his shaft buried deep inside your cunt, his teeth on your neck, his fangs-
“Ouch!” you exclaim when he bites down, sinking his canines into your flesh, but when you react you hear a rumble of a laugh coming from him. Astarion lifts his head at you, his lips are painted in redness of your blood.
“Get used to it, my pet. You’re mine now.”
Vampire Lord bites you again and this time you just sigh. Somehow his first bite was painful, second one sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers leave his hair, you place your palms on his back, feeling something there like scars, but you don’t know, you’re far away, consumed by your passion. It’s just his lithe body claiming yours, making you writhe and arch your back, making you moan.
Then Astarion slows, he moves his hips now lower, his pelvis brushes against yours, then an angle changes and he begins rubbing himself against your swollen clit, sending jolts down your spine. You open your eyes, more in surprise than anything and see Astarion’s smug smile.
“Enjoying yourself, darling?” he lifts his head with a smug smile, confident because he knows he’s good at this and he’s correct. You whimper and nod eagerly, your face still flushed. “Good.”
Astarion’s thrusts ease into a steady pace. How his skin is rubbing against you is beginning to drive you crazy. You look at him, not able to control your moans that are growing louder by the second. What is he doing to you? You never felt pleasure like this before. You can’t stop, you don’t want to stop.
“Come for me.” you hear a whisper in your ear and then he looks at your face again, enjoying the view.
Everything up until this point felt like a dream, but not this.
You feel your orgasm with every inch of your body. You cry out and dig your nails into Astarion’s back, your body tenses and your cunt clenches around him, your sweaty form spasms and you feel yourself clinging to him.
“Good girl, very good girl.”
You are barely able to comprehend Astarion’s words, because the world melts around you, this moment is intense, most intense thing you experienced in your life. But Vampire Lord doesn’t stop thrusting. When your bliss begins to fade, when you come down from your high, you look at him again and Astarion leans away from you. He straightens his back as much as he can, his palms pressed on the bed by your sides and his now messy hair drapes over his eyes but you see him watching his cock plunge into you with increasing fervor.
“Watch me fill you, my pet.” vampire’s grunt is laced with strain as he keeps fucking you while you’re trying to recover from your orgasm. You’re out of breath but this is not over, not until he says it is.
And you listen, you look down, seeing your bodies connect with every pump of his hips and you grasp at the sheets. Something about this, the anticipation, the knowledge of what he’s about to do and the desire to be used by him, it’s making the edges of your world blurry.
Astarion is grunting now, his lips parted and he’s breathing heavily. Even his face is flushed, but then he moans loudly just before he clenches his teeth. His thrusts become erratic, his eyes locked on the motion of him thrusting into you, his groans are barely passing his teeth. You know he’s spending himself entirely inside of you and it’s a delicious thought. And then after few more pumps he stops, panting when his face relaxes. You keep your eyes where your bodies are still connected, your thighs are quivering, and Astarion glances up at you with a smirk.
He says nothing as he moves one hand and grips the base of his cock, slowly pulling out of you now. You mewl gently at that, the feeling of him leaving your body is an unwelcome one. But Astarion is not done yet. He kneels between your thighs and pats your inner thigh with his cock that is now losing its hardness. With a satisfied grin he lets go of it and presses a thumb to your fold, teasing it, watching his cum seep out of you. You blush heavily at that even though you can’t see what he’s seeing.
“Beautiful.” Vampire Lord comments more to himself than to you and remains still for a long moment, just appreciating the view. Then his eyes raise to your face. “Rest for a bit. When I said I’m going to fill your holes, I meant all of them.”
You nod eagerly despite your face burning.
You cannot wait.
368 notes · View notes
qissu · 2 years
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ਏਓ 。 ゚ The yakuza’s wife part I➢ Toji x chubby f! reader
wORD cOUNT ≡ 2K
CW ≡ Smut, Forced penetration, talking y/n thru their orgasm, fucking to impregnate.
part II
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Toji’s clan has been growing and before your father knew it his clan was the second biggest, not wanting to have problems between the two a partnership was born.
Both clans work together, your father gets to keep the peace and as for Toji, he gets you in exchange as his wife.
Surprisingly you’ve been treated good, someone brings you meals and you have maids at you beck and call.
Toji is busy most of the time, whenever he gets home he’s always greeted, whenever you heard this you always rush to go to bed, not wanting to face him.
You could always sense his presence over you as you fake slept. Was he going to kill you in his sleep? Take advantage of you? You didn’t know yet you were scared that one day he’ll try something.
He then lays beside you facing away. Thinking he’s sleeping you turn towards him, watching his shoulders rise and fall. 
Locking your eyes with scars and a huge tattoo on his back. 
Why did he want you? You have a older sister and brother, why couldn’t he have chosen one of them?
You always thought you were nothing special, always in the shadows as you have your father to always protect you, but now you have a husband who your scared to look at.
But after 4 months things changed. Toji came home early one day. You were leaving the bathroom in a robe, heading back to your room.
Upon opening the door toji was sitting at the edge of the bed. His eyes locking with yours once you enter.
“Don’t be shy, close the door behind yourself.” His voice was commanding, he sounded as if he was frustrated.
You sit on the same side as him only further away from him.
“4 months and yet you’ve never kissed me on the forehead as I slept, made me food with a love note or pleased me with your mouth and body.”
You cling onto your robe, nervous.
“You don’t remember me do you? The day we met at the library?”
You turn towards him confused.
“You walked past me one day, you had books in your hand, and a piece of paper slipped out. I followed you, and I’m glad I did. That day forward I knew I needed you by my side.”
“You only want to run my father out of town, so your using me to get to him.”
In a swift movement he pushes you back on the bed, towering over you. Your robe became undone and opened in front of you, revealing your breast and pussy.
Flustered you go to pull your robe together but he stops you. Placing a hand on your breast as he pushes the end of the robe away.
“It wasn’t my intentions, but why not kill two birds with one stone?”
He goes to remove his shirt, lifting it over his head, you watch as his muscles contracted as he did.
He threw his shirt to the side. His eyes gaze over your skin and breast with hunger in them.
“Shouldn’t you pity your husband? Having to jerk off to the thought of you, that’s not enough y/n. I have to explore every inch of you.”
Your heart was beating out of your chest, you felt afraid yet aroused, you had to do something before he tried anything.
Toji gets down on his knees, goes to grab your legs and spread them open as he pulled you closer to his face.
You put your hand in front of his face, blocking him from looking at your pussy.
“Don’t look at it!”
“Why not, Did you forget you belong to me?”
“That doesn’t mean anything!”
He pulls your hand away, looking over your stomach and breast to look at you, tears started to swell in your eyes.
“Uh uh, don’t cry now.” He stretch’s his hands toward your face wiping away your tears.
“I-I’m not worthy or beautiful.”
“Blah blah blah, who cares? Don’t turn the mood sour or my dick will get soft, is that what you want?”
You shake your head back and forth.
“You’re my woman, if someone has a problem with it they’ll have to answer to me.”
Before you could speak out a word he dismisses it, pulling your pussy towards his face once again.
One leg over his shoulder while the other rest, spread out on the bed. He has a rough personality but his hands felt soft against your skin.
“If you think I’m going to be gentle, brace yourself.”
Toji places kisses all over your pussy, taking his time with your folds, sucking on both of them as he tugged roughly against them.
You could feel your folds start to bruise as he continued. You suddenly felt his tongue, flat against you as he licks from your ass to your pussy, letting his tongue slip between your folds.
Using his thumb and index finger to spread your folds apart, exposing your clit. He then spits on it, getting you wet before latching his lips on your clit, sucking it.
You were nervous since your pussy wasn’t a few shades lighter, but he didn’t care, even if your pussy was slightly hairy, none of that mattered to him.
You arch your back against his tongue. His right hand laid against the top of your pussy, now exposing your clit as he starts to use his left index and middle finger to finger you as his tongue does slow strokes against your clit.
You try to push his face away but he persisted, you never felt so much energy swelling inside of you, you couldn’t handle it all.
You try to grab for anything, your hands stroke against the bedsheets, gripping onto them as if your life depends on it.
As he continued he started to moan against your clit with each deep stroke against it, pressing down on it as he applies more pressure.
You felt butterflies in your stomach and pussy as you start to moan out in pleasure. You quickly cover your mouth, shocked that such sounds came from you.
You felt Toji smile against your clit, knowing that you are enjoying it turns him on even more.
“Ngh- Toji please...”
You speak out as he sucks the soul out of your pussy. You could feel yourself coming close to your orgasm.
Your clit jolts against his tongue, becoming sensitive by the second. He was breathing heavily as he continued, not stopping until you orgasm. As you orgasmed, you felt your ears pop after cumming hard.
Your toes curled as your pussy pulsates against his tongue. Pulling his left index and middle finger out he sucks on them, one by one after fingering the cum out of you.
Your stomach rises and fall as you look at him between your breast, you could tell he was still hungry, he begins to suck your pussy dry.
Your body would lightly jolt forward from his touch, he goes to reach for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
“It’s ok I’m right here, I’m right here” while your shaking and jiving his words made you felt safe and comfortable.
Toji then pulls you closer by the neck, removing his hand to suck on the nape of your neck. His heavy breathing against your skin set your skin into a frenzy, the tingles went down your neck all down to your toes.
“That was impressive, but I want to see more, I want you to lose it when your with me, depend on me as I fuck you until your brain becomes mush.”
Toji then forces his tongue down your throat, biting on your tongue every few seconds if you try to pull away.
You felt weak, but he didn’t care. Toji goes to pick you up off the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist.
You cling to him as if your life depended on it as he goes to yank down his pants, as he does his dick was pressed against your pussy, marinating in the cum that was slowly dripping out as he held you close.
“Be a good girl and spread it.”
He waits as you go to grab your ass checks spreading it as wide as you could, he held onto his dick as you did, not giving you a warming as he forces the tip inside.
You go to place your hands around his neck but he stops you. “Uh uh, keep it spread open.”
You nod as you do as your told, with one hand keeping your ass open and the other around his neck.
He doesn’t give your insides time to adjust as he begins to violently fuck you, he was balls deep with every stroke, enjoying himself while inside.
You moan out at the top of your lungs as tears stream down your face. Your hands started to shake as he continued. As your head rest on his shoulder you bite down on it. Trying your best not to throw in the towel just yet.
Your cries soon turn into pleads. “Toji I can’t, I can’t take it.”
“Your doing so good so far, can’t you tell by how deep I am?”
“It’s too deep.”
“That’s how I’m supposed to be.”
Just from his words you would have combusted on his dick. You were a sobbing and slobbering mess.
He place both his hands on your waist, slamming you down until your pussy touched the base of his dick. You felt as if you were going to lose consciousness but his words surprisingly kept you level headed.
Your cries near his ear were heavenly, he took pride in being able to break you to the point of tears.
“Mhmm, say my name if you want to cum…if you don’t we can continue until morning.”
As you tried to speak words wouldn’t come out, nothing would. Your brain felt fried. As he continued he goes to smack your ass, after each smack he grips onto it until it bruised.
It didn’t take long for your body to want to cum, you started grinding back and forth on his dick. “Mhmm, good girl, cum on my dick.”
He bends over on the bed as you grind faster against him. He grunts out as he cums inside you. Your grip around his neck tightened as you orgasmed.
You could feel your insides pulsating around his dick, without knowing it you started to tighten and loosen your insides, this made him weak in the knees.
“W- wait.” He grunts out as he tries to stop you but you couldn’t, you wanted to cum again. It doesn’t take long to orgasm once again, this time Toji was begging for you to stop as he was too sensitive.
You let go of him, as he helps you sit up you were face to face with his dick.
Without warning he grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing his dick into your mouth. His hips slam into your face, sliding down your throat as it rubbed against your tongue.
You curl your tongue around his dick as you try to keep up with his pace.
“P- please tell me you’ve never done this with anybody else.”
You don’t answer his question as it’s hard to since his dick is slamming deep down your throat.
He felt angered, the thought of your lips wrapped around someone else’s was enough to make him become feral. With more force his dick started to bruise the back of your throat, you begin to gag on it with the extra force.
It doesn’t take long for you to start choking and slobbering as he’s lodged in your throat.
“This mouth belongs to Toji, I’ll cum deep inside, you’ll only have my scent on your tongue.”
And as he did your head slams against his lower torso once more. Cum filled your throat. As you start to choke on it, he grabs your cheeks and press down gently on them, forcing you to swallow, and you did.
Looking up at him you wipe the sides of your mouth, feeling as if you don’t have the will to continue. Even after all that he still wasn’t done. You ended up in many different positions, On his face, in doggy, he was going to get his 4 months worth of pussy that he missed out on.
You couldn’t cry out anymore as you’ve lost your voice, you could still taste his cum against your tongue.
Toji was deep in the pussy, pressing down on your lower abdomen inducing another orgasm.
Toji sits up, looking at the sight in front of him. He was proud of all his hard work. You could only stare at the ceiling, your arms and legs have gave out a long while ago.
Toji cleaned you off, knowing what you experienced was a lot. Once you’re cleaned off he gets in bed, pulling your naked body towards his as he hums into your ear.
“I’ll give you anything you want for being so obedient.”
He said before continuing to hum, Toji knew not to leave you alone after that, he needed you to know that he wasn’t going anywhere even if that meant changing his schedule to accommodate you.
You could only cling to his body as he kissed your forehead, you soon went to sleep and he followed along.
When you woke up you were in his arms still, his grip around your waist tighten every time you move.
“Good morning sleepy head.”
He kisses you on the neck. Breakfast was served in bed as you and him begin to bond more.
“Next time let’s try for a baby.”
The words caused you to spit out your food. His phone rings at the same time, he gets out of bed.
“Make sure to keep your health up so we can try again, you should be ovulating this week coming up, I’ll make sure to change my schedule around.”
He kissed you on the lips before walking out to take the call.
Now you felt as if he was trying to kill you, sex with toji isn’t for the weak, imagine sex with him again, but this time to get you pregnant. 
Toji left to attend business but he left his credit card for you to get anything you want. You couldn’t help but smile, anticipating the next time you’ll see him, because whenever Toji is near you, your pussy yearns for him. 
7K notes · View notes
prettynice8 · 5 months
Text
Kinkmas Day 16: Sex pollen
Pairing: Denji x male reader
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This guy
Summary: The lust devil infects you two with spores or whatever, making even more horny than usual.
Warnings: Rampant horniness, kissing, dry humping, smashing, doggy style, public area? taking Denji's virginity, dub con? Sex pollen DUH
Word count: 1104
It should have just been a normal mission; you and Denji (mostly Denji) would kill a devil and be done with it, but not this time. You were just normally going on patrol, you weren't even a devil hunter, but you liked the company of Denji, as if you wanted him inside of you. You two had just been walking in a random abandoned warehouse, quite roomy, which probably added to the eeriness. You were talking about random shit, hot people, Makima, smash or pass with devils, who would take care of power if either of you were to die, everyday things. That was all until you were randomly attacked by a devil.
Before either of you could have the time to react, the air began to fill with red mist, it smelled like roses, how pleasant. It clouded your vision, you couldn't even see Denji who was right in front of you, and then suddenly you heard a voice.
"I wish I could stay and watch dinner and a show, but I must be off, sorry." The voice was alluring and high pitched, it sounded like a stereotypical gay man in fact (I imagine the lust devil to sound like a homosexual). Then, just as quickly as the devil arrived, it was gone.
"What the fuck do they mean by that?" You asked, the mist clearing up, almost as if it left with the devil.
"I don't fucking know!" Denji honestly answered, just as confused as you are. For a while you just sat there in your confusion, until your pants started to feel unbelievably tight.
"Do you also feel a little weird?" You asked Denji, not much of a question since you could clearly see his red face, drool starting to collect in his mouth. He looks over at you, giving you a tunnel stare.
"I don't know." He said, slowly walking closer and closer to you. You stay still, trying to figure out what is going on. Denji doesn't have the same concern, the only thing he can think of is getting rid of the overwhelmingly painful hardship he has.
You notice the incredible tent in his pants, you try to think about how or why this is happening, but you can't take your eyes off his clothed dick, and thus can't take your mind off of it.
"What are you doing?" You asked, already having a thought on what was on his mind, which is probably the same thing that's on yours, hard core smashing.
"I don't know." He responds again, finally face to face with you.
You two just stand there, looking longingly into each other's eyes, before Denji finally makes a move, putting his lips on yours, giving in to the over empowering temptation. You can't talk though, instantly reciprocating these emotions, kissing him back.
His lips are surprisingly soft, moving with yours perfectly. You both stay like this, until only kissing isn't enough to satiate your desires.
Your hand goes to rub Denji's already painfully hard clothed cock, you even feel it throb in your hand. His hand goes to grab your ass and then he starts to rub his covered dick with yours, his rubbing becomes so aggressive that it causes both of you to fall over, him being on top of you, just like he wanted.
Denji continued his dry humping, while also kissing you more passionately, his tongue swirling around with yours. You moan into the kiss, his dry humping getting quicker as he tries to chase his release. Sadly, just rubbing his cock on yours simply isn't enough, he needs the full experience.
You notice his hard thrusts and offer your own help, putting your hand in his pants to rub it raw. He starts groaning at the sensation, as his hand does the same with your member, rubbing it without precision or technique.
Denji stops jerking you off, opting to take off his clothes and get straight to the point, showing you his glorious cock. It's about average length, but incredibly girthy, he also has a lot of pubes, looking as if he never trims. You follow suit, removing your clothing as well. You two go back to kissing each other, this time roughly, pure tongues and teeth clashing together, wanting, no, needing to be as close to one another as possible.
"Hands and knees." He ordered, in which you quickly obey, doing exactly as he says. You look back at him, waiting for him to enter you, needing to feel him inside.
He does what you wish, giving one quick kiss before finally entering your ass. Slowly but surely, he makes his way in, his large girth making it slightly difficult to fit all the way in. It takes a while but eventually he does make it all the way through.
He gives you little to no time to adjust, wanting to have this burning sensation go away. You're not complaining though, wanting the same thing.
His thrusts are uncontrolled but effective nonetheless, causing a moan out of you every now and then as he ruthlessly hits you from the back. Denji even let's out a groan or two, loving how tight your hole is, almost as if you two were made to fuck each other.
He leans down and puts his bare chest on your back, wanting more skin-on-skin contact, which is why he also starts rubbing your dick. The sensation of this added on to his attack at your ass makes you an official moaning mess.
He uses his other hands to grab your face so he can kiss you, wanting your lips on his again. Your mouth is already open so he can have full access to your tongue. The kiss is feral, saliva spilling into each other's mouths, down your chins, and onto the floor, teeth clashing together as you two just can't get enough of the other.
His kiss, hand, and dick work perfectly together to make you cum, which is exactly what you do, spilling all over the abandoned building's floor. Denji follows closely, dumping a massive load in your ass, some even spilling out onto the floor.
The burning sensation is finally gone for both of you. Though you notice that Denji's dick is still hard. Denji then notices the cum spilling out of your ass and puts on your underwear.
"I want it to stay there, until we can go somewhere and do this again." He said sensually.
"Where?" You asked, putting the rest of your clothes back on.
"As soon as possible." He replied, doing the same.
Thank you random devil mist.
THE END
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alexsoenomel · 9 months
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Silly Little Nightmare (Dean Winchester x Reader fluff)
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Summary: You have a nightmare and you go to Dean's room
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: death and fluff (sounds about right, eh?)
Word count: 1.1k
Note: Found an old fic I wrote years ago. It was horrible so I did I little editing. Enjoy!
Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  
Not being able to sleep was a must in your book every night.  You struggled with insomnia, nightmares and exhaustion your whole life and now living with two brothers in a cold bunker in the middle of nowhere didn’t help your situation whatsoever. The bunker was your home during the day, but a fucking nighmere during the night. The water in the pipes circling around your room made it almost impossible not to focus on the damn sound and cold air was trying to creep into your bones no matter how thick your blanket was – sometimes you hated it.
One night it got the best of you, it almost tore you apart completely and drove you to the brink of madness.  When you decided to forcefully get yourself into a deep state of sleep by taking melatonin there it was: the dream – your worst nightmare. It started off as a pleasant scenario set in the late 50’s for some unknown reason. You and the older Winchester were on a mission to kill a creature who happened to have the ability to time travel. The younger brother wasn’t there; your brain was clever enough to take everything you love away from you – step by step.  It made everything too real; every sound, every touch and every damn emotion seemed enhanced. It took you and Dean to a dark alley, similar to the ones where the worst killings and robberies would happen in real life. It made you think that Dean was the bad guy; it drugged you to the point where you couldn’t see nor hear straight. How the fuck did your brain manage to do that? You were a fucking masochist so maybe that was your answer. You couldn’t hear his voice, begging you to believe him and you didn’t see the expression on his face when you first took out your sharp knife. He looked like someone else – a monster in a human form with sharp teeth and yellow eyes, but it wasn’t Dean. He tried to run, but you were faster; he tried to fight you, but you were stronger in this universe. When you stabbed him it felt like cutting a piece of cake – surprisingly easy. You didn’t hear his hard groan but as soon as he hit the ground it was time to wake up and see what you had done. Your eyes were yours and true again as well as your ears, but you…you were far from yourself. He was laying there, blood all over his shirt and mouth, he was already far away from you. His eyes were open and empty. He was gone.
“Dean?” You got on your knees. “DEAN?”
Nothing. His groans and short breaths stopped. He wasn’t moving anymore.
“DEAN PLEASE?! Wake up?!”
“DEAN?”
“DEAN?”
The tears seemed so real and yet so foreign. Like a few drops from a cold autumn’s rain on your cheeks, but at the same time that familiar feeling of sorrow and emptiness hit you. Your body became weak, he wasn’t moving. He was gone.
You woke up. Sweat. Tears. The anger…everything hit you all at once. Shaking your head, desperately trying to pull yourself together and catch your breath, you got up and went to the hallway. It was pitch black; the darkness was overwhelming making you frantically wander. He was your first love, and first loves we tend to not forget nor get over it easily. Love sometimes wasn’t what poets make it to be; all happy and sweet as candy – it sometimes left scars, sometimes deep and more painful than any other childhood trauma you may have experienced.
No one knew about your love for Dean besides your heart. Sam was a friend, or even the brother you never had but Dean was the other side of the coin. If you could explain why he made your heart work faster you could but that was the thing about love, it was unexpected and unexplainable. The life you lived, the things you had seen, you couldn’t risk losing the friendship you had so you just buried it deep in your mind. 
His room was the first one to the left. You gently opened the door and the silence was immediately replaced with soft snores coming from the bed.
“Dean?” You whispered, closing the door. “Dean?”
The sheets started moving in the dark as you sat next to him. “(Y/N)?”
“I’m sorry I-I…” You remembered the dream again. You saw his lifeless body again. “I had a nightmare.” With your sleeve you whipped the tears trying to not sound as pathetic as you thought you did. 
“Hey, comere!” He pulled your arm and moved to the other side of the bed. You went with him under the covers feeling his warmth on your skin immediately.  He smelled like mint with a dash of alcohol plus something that screamed Dean – a mix of leather and gunpowder. He wrapped his arms around your small frame pulling you closer to him.
You would hug here and there, but never like this. This was intimate and yet familiar. 
“It was about you.” You said pressing your forehead against his chest. 
“The nightmare?”
“Yeah, I killed you. I thought you were a monster and I killed you.” The tears started creeping in again as you tried your best to keep it together. 
“It was just a dream, sweetheart.” He said softly. His chin was resting on top of your head. 
“I’m sorry I woke you up. It’s just…” You couldn’t see him and you didn’t want to, you felt stupid. A grown ass woman crying over a bad dream – even worse a hunter. 
 You lifted your head up and feeling bold you placed a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He was still a silhouette but his eyes were on you while he was trying to restrain himself from kissing you. You weren’t the only one who had deep buried feelings in the pits of your mind. He was hooked the minute you two jammed to Ramble On by Led Zeppelin in the Impala one gloomy Sunday night after a successful hunt. 
“It’s…It’s okay.” You couldn’t see but he was flustered. 
“Can I stay? Please?”  
Something in his gut punched him, so he went for it. He kissed you. Not in the sweet ‘I have wanted to do that for a long time’ way, but ‘please never leave me I love you’ way. At first it felt like someone pushed your face into a candy bowl but with the sweetness and a light minty flavor there was also the pleasure that came with it. It literally took your breath away and you couldn’t help but moan a little.
“Stay and never leave.” He said.  
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draeisgrayte · 1 year
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Hot and Tasty| Kyojuro Rengoku
Synopsis: Your best friend introduces you to one of her friends since you’re introverted and don’t get out much. The two of you hit it off and come to find out, this new friend is a lot closer to your heart than you previously thought. 
Warning/contains: cam!boy rengoku, blowjob, mature content, mature language, oral sex, fem and male receiving, maybe a little crush, vibrator on male, slight angst
word count: 7.4K
a/n: i’m finally back, thank goodness. Finals week and then Tears of the Kingdom took over my life. This fic is a small idea I had thinking about Rengoku’s moobies. Like how nice would it be for him to stream with those? Fr, he’d be the type to not understand why he got all the hype. So I dedicate this fic to Kyojuro’s perfect pectorals. 
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If there was one thing you knew about yourself, it was that you were a visual person. You learned better visually, vision was your favorite sense. You used it constantly in your line of work, watching how people interact with one another, shows, and how words could come together to form a story. You wrote and you were damn good at it. Though, books hadn’t been flying off the shelves as you had hoped. So you used your skills of being an introvert and lack of a care to create a streaming channel. Fans suddenly started flocking to you and your following grew and grew until it was apparent you could make some good money off of this. You could combine your passion with something you were good at and get paid for it. 
So yeah, visuals made you pretty happy. So happy that even when you touched yourself you couldn’t do so without watching someone else enjoy themselves. Though you couldn’t think about that right now because you were supposed to be meeting up with your close friend Kanroji. She had invited you out to lunch last night and who were you to decline the loveable best friend you’d had for many years now? She’d even offered to pay for your food since she knew times were a little tough for you at the moment. You couldn’t tell her that you’d had a drunk night and accidentally (on purpose) made a big donation to a streamer you watched often. She’d start to ask questions and those questions would lead down a harsh road of embarrassment for you. It’s then that you feel your phone buzz almost as if you’d summoned Kanroji.
Kan_deez_nutsfitinyourmouth 
Great news! A friend I haven’t seen in a while is going to meet us there. He told me he just got a huge bonus from work so he’ll treat us to lunch! I can’t wait for you both to meet each other! I hope this is okay. ~11:37am
You read over the text for a few moments before thinking about what Kanroji’s friend would look like. She had a multitude of friends and they came in all different shapes and sizes. Surprisingly she thought of you as her best friend, out of everyone she was friends with she chose you. It meant a lot to you and even though it was narcissistic, being favored by Kanroji Mitsuri made you feel better about yourself. What if she liked this other friend more? That was something you couldn’t let happen. You’d have to make sure Kanroji didn’t abandon you. This fear was probably irrational and you might need to see a therapist about it. You shrug it off and move off your plush bed. You needed to find something nice to wear because you couldn’t show up wearing the same outfit you’d been in for the last 3 days or so. This old friend had to know you meant business. You decide on a short green floral dress that has a stretchy bust to help contain the gravity sacks. The skirt of the dress fell nicely around your stomach and covered enough of your thighs that you didn’t feel super insecure about them. You once yourself over in the mirror leaning against your wall. You looked cute, cute enough to kill. Which you were willing to do if it meant keeping Kanroji to yourself. You slip into some comfortable off-brand white tennis shoes and glance at your phone for the time. It was nearly noon, you should probably start the short journey to the quaint restaurant. 
You arrive a little past noon and spot Kanroji seated near the window. Your eyes instantly track the man sitting across from her. He has long blonde hair with red tips. It falls past his shoulders in spiky waves. His shoulders are…incredibly broad, and muscular, and you find yourself staring at the lines of his muscles through his shirt for longer than you would like to admit. You move shyly toward the pair and before you can appear fully in front of them Kanroji notices you. Her face lights up with an excited smile as she waves you over.
“Y/n you made it!” She beams. The man slowly turns and then he abruptly stands up. You slightly jump at the sudden movement but watch as he bows his head and then extends his hand. You look between his massive hand and his bright red and yellow eyes. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you y/n, my name is Kyojuro.” His eyes seem to glow as he grins warmly at you. You take his hand in yours and shake it. A pull of electricity courses through you once your skin makes contact with his. He motions for you to sit next to him with a friendly smile. You accept only because he smelt like delicious food and maybe expensive cologne. He wore a fitted black tee paired with simple blue jeans. You don’t know how he did it, but somehow he looked incredibly good-looking. Maybe it was because he was just that good-looking. How the hell were you supposed to feel confident when you sat next to two beautiful people?
Rengoku was nervous. He’d never seen someone as effortlessly breathtaking as you. He’d never known love before, but he was starting to understand what the phrase love at first sight meant. You were meadows kissed by the sun. You were birds soaring in the sky. You were melodies played by a symphony. Kanroji should’ve warned him that you were more than his type, you were perfect. Rengoku sends a glare toward Kanroji, who smirks his look off and turns her attention to you. 
“So what have you been up to this fine morning y/n?” Kanroji inquires. You glance at the man next to you who doesn’t seem too interested in the conversation, so you decide to tell the truth. 
“Well, I woke up pretty late, but once I cooked myself a nice breakfast I was pretty pumped to get some work done.” You reply, fiddling with the skin on your thumb. Kyojuro peers at you with an inquisitive look. 
“What do you do for work?” He asks, his eyes searching your face like they’ll reveal the answer before your mouth does. You smile kindly and gesture to yourself. 
“I’m a self-published author who also likes to stream on Twitch for some extra cash.” His eyes light up like a fire. 
“I like to stream too.” He exclaims. You feel your heart soar. For a moment you thought Kyojuro would ask you the same line of questions everyone else seems to. When will you get a real job?
“Really? What platform do you stream on? Maybe I know it?” You quiz. Kyojuro quickly looks away from you. You furrow your brows and observe a red tinge to his ears. 
“It’s…pretty unheard of. I don’t think you’d know it…” He trails off. Why did the mood change so suddenly? Did you say something wrong? All you wanted to do was support Kyojuro since it felt like the two of you were becoming friends. Anxiety thrums in your chest. Maybe you weren’t as likeable as you had originally thought. Kanroji’s favor had gotten to your head. 
“Well, I have an idea.” Kanroji pipes up, breaking the silence you had inevitably created. You turn to look at her, who had been silent strangely for a while. “Why don’t you both exchange numbers and then Rengoku can send you some of his content when you get to know each other better.” She smiles slyly and Kyojuro shares a strange look with her. He presses his full lips together and lets out a short breath. She pulls out a pad of paper from her bag and passes it to you with a pink pen. “Write down your number. I’m sure Kyojuro will contact you as soon as possible.” She grins, but you can see the mischief in your friend’s green eyes. What was she planning? You scribble down your number and tear out the page it’s on. You hesitate for a moment before sliding it over to Rengoku. His eyes are trained on the piece of paper like it holds the world's secrets. 
“Thank you…” He mumbles softly. You nod your head and look away from him. 
“No problem.” You respond not sure what just happened. You hear Kanroji giggle and look up to find her covering her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter. “What is it now?” You ask, frustration dripping from your tone. This only fuels her laughter more. 
“You both are just so…” She shakes her head and gestures to you and Kyojuro. “So cute. We have to hang out more.” 
“We haven’t even ordered our food Mitsuri. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” Rengoku glares at her. She gains a shit-eating grin on her face. You stare at the shoes you had slipped on, doubt that you should’ve even came today seeping into your thoughts. Did he not want to hang out with you again? He didn’t owe you anything, but did he have to make it so obvious that he wanted to never do this again?
“Well by all means let’s eat because I’m starving.” She grins and clasps her hands together. You peer up at Kanroji, observing her beautiful hair and sharp face. She was the type of girl that people stopped to stare at. You were always the glance, never the double-take. The small lunch ends with mainly Kyojuro and Kanroji catching up about what they’d been up to lately. You sat watching the two interact, mostly entranced with the way Rengoku’s smile seemingly brightened up the dim restaurant. You wished you could watch his mouth all day. The way he formed words was somehow sexy. His whole face expressing his emotions without a filter or care how others would react to him. Kyojuro was beautiful. A ray of warmth in your somewhat cold life. The time ticked by in an instant, and suddenly you were standing to leave. Kyojuro had left to pay for the food and you stood waiting for Kanroji to gather her things. “So, do you like him?” She suddenly blurts. Kanroji had a sixth sense of matching people together. It was like she was a matchmaker in her past life. She just had these feelings when two people would click together in the type of love you hear about in the fictional world. Your eyes widen at her blatant question. 
“I just met him.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes at the obvious answer. Kanroji on the other hand sighs loudly and rolls her eyes. You weren’t even sure if he liked meeting you. 
“Y/n, I’m not asking if you want to have his children, just a simple ‘Do you think he’s a cool person’? What are your opinions on him at this moment?” She restates. You flush and look away from her prying eyes. 
“I…I mean he’s really cool…” You mutter. You know Kanroji is smirking even without looking at her. You can’t seem to stop the confessions, even though you knew she’d tease you about it later. “I think his smile is the most attractive thing I’ve seen on someone, besides his obvious muscular body. He feels safe, which sounds weird because I’ve only just met him, but I think I’d grow to trust him.” You rant, embarrassed that your mouth won’t seem to close. Kanroji pats you on the shoulder and her sly smirk changes to a smile of compassion and understanding. 
“I’m really glad it seems you want to be friends with him. My little introvert is growing her social circle.” She wipes away a fake tear and you shove her slightly. Her mischievous glow comes back as she pushes you back. “So you do want to have his babies?” She teases. You’re about to object because even if you want to be friends with him that doesn’t mean he wants to be friends with you, but you feel a presence and you know exactly who it has to be.
“Who’s babies?” Kyojuro’s deep voice asks from behind you. Your whole body freezes and then goes warm. Kanroji on the other hand starts to laugh. At times like this, you really hated your best friend. 
“Doesn’t matter.” You grumble and push past the both of them. “I’m leaving.” You don’t wait for either of them, just walk out the door and start the short walk to your apartment. What were you thinking? You got too comfortable with something you didn’t even have. It’s not like Kyojuro would ever look at you like that. You were stupid and… and insecure. Stupidly insecure about your body. What Rengoku lacked in body fat you surely made up for. He probably wanted someone built like himself, able to keep up. You’d just end up slowing him down. You feel a cold coil of anxiety and sorrow wrap around your body. It’s then that someone runs up behind you. You turn around expecting it to be Mitsuri, but Rengoku stands there panting slightly. He was a sight to see. The dimming light of the evening made him glow like an ember. In a way he reminded you of the sunset; once he left you’d be all alone in the dark with only the light from your monitor illuminating your face. He searches your face for some sort of sign that you were displeased. He was worried he’d said something that offended you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to get to know you enough that you might consider becoming intimate with him. He’d never met someone like you and he was damned if he let you go now. 
“Did I say something wrong?” He finally asks. Might as well get to the point. There was no need to dance around what he wanted to ask you. You raise your brows and shake your head slowly. Why would he think that? Was he being serious? Never the less, it wasn’t him who had sent your emotions necessarily into a frenzy. It was the pushiness of your best friend. 
“No Kyojuro, Kanroji just takes her jokes too far sometimes. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that…” You sigh and press your lips together. Kyojuro’s face relaxes and you are blessed with another one of his smiles. 
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Can I say something weird?” He rubs the back of his neck and looks off to the side. You tilt your head and shrug, but you can’t help the nervous butterflies the creep up to your sternum. You want to shove them down and tell them there’s no place for them here, but you almost enjoy the way they make you feel.
“I don’t have a problem with whatever you want to say. Go ahead.” You reply. He clears his throat and your eyes meet. 
“I’m glad I got to meet you today. You seem really cool and I look forward to getting to know you better.” He mumbles shyly. You can’t help but swoon at the adorable tone of his voice. All your anxietys melt away and are replaced with a steadily beating heart and throbbing lower region. This man had such a hold on you after a few hours of being next to one another. Your face contorts into an idiotic grin.
“Me as well.” You pause and you notice your heart pounding in your chest. You can’t tell if you are nervous talking to someone you want to be friends with… or if it’s the easy attraction you have for him. You decide it’s probably a mixture of both. You also decide to be bold. “Make sure to text me, I want to see your content sometime soon.” You bow your head and go to leave, but before you turn around you catch Rengoku’s face flushing a bright red. Hmm… what an interesting reaction. Maybe…just maybe you should give love another shot. If with anyone, surely Kyojuro would be an excellent choice. 
Kyojuro’s heart was nearly pounding out of his chest as you walked out of his view. He watched you until he couldn’t anymore. He stumbles toward the wall and braces himself against it. He attempts to catch his breath and places a hand over his heart. How was he supposed to show such an innocent person the type of content he made…? He couldn’t possibly share his deepest darkest secret with you. You would surely leave him behind if you learned of it. Maybe it was time for him to branch out into the gaming genre so he’d have something to show you. 
You got home around 5:30. It didn’t seem like you’d stayed out that long, but here you were nearly 5 hours later finally getting home. You’d somehow made a new friend. This was huge. A momentous occasion. You should celebrate. You look down at your phone and then remember the pounding of your heart earlier. You knew an excellent way to relieve some stress.
It’s not long before you’re in your room propped up on your bed. You grab your laptop from your bedside table and place it on a pillow in front of you. You type in the URL of one of your favorite sites. A horny smile curls the corners of your lips upwards as you search for one of your favored content creators. Yoro was a hunky man, with huge pecs. You could only imagine what they must feel like. His content was very straightforward, but he specialized in role-play, pillow talk, and was famous for his incredible whimpering. It…did things to a person. He always had his hair tied back into a low ponytail, so it had to be long. You wonder how much he’d beg for you if you pulled his hair…Needless to say, this man had you wrapped around his finger. If you ever got the chance to meet him… goodness you don’t even know what you’d do. Probably drop your pants to let the flood free. Yoro also wore a black mask and sometimes a black cap that he pulled over his eyes. It was a little disappointing that you couldn’t see his face, but the rest of him more than made up for it. His body was a work of art and you’d never seen a cock prettier than his. It had to be around 5 to 6 inches long and was so girthy. You wonder if he’d be able to fit inside you. In fact, he was the biggest expense in your life. He was the reason you had spent a lot of money when you were drunk. You had to be his number-one fan. Had to be. 
You pull up one of his recent videos and lean up against your headboard. Yoro’s setup was very simple; a view of his bed, which had deep red sheets on it, his gray walls, and a small view of his desk where he sat for Q and As at times. He starts off the video sitting at his desk and explaining that he’ll be trying out a new toy a fan had sent him. It was a small vibrator that could be wrapped around the penis. He looked excited from what you could tell and that made you horny for some reason. You shimmy out of your underwear and toss them on your floor. You spread your legs like you’re showing Yoro your pussy. He’s already strapped the toy onto his cock and has it turned on a low setting. 
“Fuck, this feels weird.” He chuckles in a deep voice. You bite down on your bottom lip as your fingers duck into your folds. “I’m going to turn it up higher.” He explains and presses the button a couple of times. You can hear the buzzing from here and your heart pounds with lust. You wanted to be there teasing him with the vibrator. Making him whimper and whine for you give him sweet release. Your eyes close slightly as you gaze at Yoro on your screen. His hair was tucked into his hat this time and you never desperately wished to see someone’s face as they were being pleasured as you do with his. Yoro doubles over on the bed and his legs start to shake. “Ngh. Fuck. It feels so good.” He whines. His eyes dart to look at the camera as he struggles to stay standing. You flutter your eyes closed as you massage your clit with your fingers. God this was so hot. “I think- ahh- close. I’m going to,” His breath shakes as he tries to talk. His muscular arm contracts as he grips the sheets of his bed. “F-fuck, holy shit.” He sputters out as cum spurts from his tip. You bite back a moan and fall off your climax with a shiver running up your spine. 
“Wow.” You pant as the video ends. Your eyes shut. You were worn out from everything you did today. Socializing and now this? You’d clean up tomorrow. Right now you were going to fall asleep. 
You wake up with a notification from an unknown number. You rub your eyes and read over what the number had said. 
‘Did you get home safe?’ 
It then clicks that this must be Kyojuro. You smile to yourself and save his name as apricot since that’s what his name and hair reminded you of. 
Yn
Yes, I got home safe and sound. I Fell asleep right after I got in the door.
Apricot
hahaha, did you fall asleep in the entryway?
Yn
Lmao, no I at least made it to my bed.
Apricot
damn, so I can’t bully you about being one of those people who sleep on the floor?
Yn
I’m afraid not 🙁
Apricot
dw, I’ll find something else to bully you about
Yn
jeez I thought we were friends, but now I find out you’re actually a horrible person
Apricot
yup, I’m a monster 👾
Yn
wtf emoji is that
Apricot
he’s a cute lil monster wdym?
Yn
oooh sure, ‘cute’
Apricot
>:( so now you’re bullying an inanimate object? Who’s the monster now? 
Yn
caught red-handed, I actually eat children in the night
Apricot
:0 how scandalous 
You shake your head and toss your phone to the side of your bed. How could one person be so damn adorable? You remember last night as your face flushes. You should probably clean up and then start planning out your next few streams. After donating nearly 1k to Yoro, you needed to pump out some streams to earn more money. 
Apricot
What’s your favorite color?
You bite your lip and think for a beat before typing a response. 
Yn
I’m partial to greens and pinks, but I can’t lie and exclude reds and purples 🙂
Apricot
I like red too, it was my mother’s favortie color
Yn
Is she…?
Apricot
Yeah…it happened when I was young so I’m mostly over it
Yn
You don’t have to be over it Kyojuro, grief doesn’t have a deadline
Rengoku doesn’t respond quickly so you set your phone to the side of your desk. You’d put in a load of laundry and starting scheduling streams for next week while texting him. You’ve barely begun to move some items around in your plans when you hear your phone go off. 
Apricot
You’re right, my father was never the same after she died and I think he took it out on me. Maybe that’s why I’ve made some of the rash decisions because I wanted to live up to the disappointment he thought I was. It didn’t help that my little brother watched as our father beat me down with his words nearly every day. That’s why I’m working so hard, so I can provide a better life for my brother…and for my father.
You stare at the message, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes. The thought of anyone thinking Kyojuro Rengoku was a disappointment was practically unthinkable to you, and you just met him yesterday. You feel angry, sad, and sadistically happy that he felt comfortable enough to tell you this. 
Yn
Firstly, I want to tell you thank you for sharing. That was incredibly brave of you. 
Then there’s what you said, Kyojuro I don’t think you could ever be a disappointment. You’re a product of what happened to you and the environment that was pushed upon you. You grew up damn well, you’re kind, funny, and intelligent. Grief effect people in the strangest ways, I’m just sorry your father got the short end, I can’t imagine how it must of been for all of you. Your father lost the love of his life and you lost a mother. I hope you and your father can make up. 
Apricot
I will fight my whole life if it means I can see him. That’s what love is. Thanks for listening to my rambling. Sorry if I overwhelmed you with the sad boy vibes. 
Yn
No no no, it’s nice to know you’re human. When I met you yesterday I was convinced you were some sort of God
Your face flushes as you boldly send the last text. You flip your phone over and ignore the buzzing. You had to get back to work anyway. 
Rengoku was curious what you meant, but for some reason you weren’t reading his messages. He sighs loudly and presses his lips together. You were too cute for your own good. The beast inside of his chest was throbbing. Then there was the aching in the confines of his pants. He was a gentleman, but you were making him think of ungodly things to do to you. How cute your face would look high on pleasure, cumming for the 100th time for him. You’d be such a good fucking girl for him. Opening up your sweet legs and exposing your cunt for him to taste. You’d be absolutely delicious. Thats when he notices a text back from you.
Yn
I never thought I’d see a sunrise and sunset simultaneously. That’s what it’s like being with you. Is that weird? You’re a very warm person lmao
I feel like that’s weird.
Ignore that.
Kyojuro, don’t get the wrong idea
Fuck
He can’t possibly contain his smile. Delicious. 
It’s been about 3 months since you initially met Kyojuro Rengoku. The two of you had been messaging back and forth nearly everyday, hanging out occasionally, and it was apparent how attracted you were to him. He was intoxicatingly charming over text and when you’d see him in person his smile would wrap your body in a warm coat of giddiness. No longer were you controlled by the cold hands of anxiety. Rengoku’s presence and persisting nature made you realize that you simply shouldn’t give a fuck. You’re you and that’s priceless. Kanroji was ecstatic when you first told her Rengoku asked you to hang out alone. She was convinced you were in love with him, which… probably wasn’t far from the truth. You knew so much about him, but the one thing you were still curious about was the content he made. One part of you felt like it was too late to bring up that topic, but the other part was dying to know if he played games or was more of a talking streamer. What type of things did he do to entertain his viewers? As if summoning him a text message buzzes from him on your phone screen.
Apricot
You wanna come over and chill tonight? I got that new movie you were asking about 😎
Yn
Ahh sick, yeah I can be there by 4
Is that good?
I could come earlier but I have some work to finish up before I can make it
Apricot
Yeah that should work
I do have some things I’ll need to finish up in my office though, so if you’re fine just chilling by yourself for like an hour or so until I’m finished then we should be all set
Yn
Hell yeah man, I’ll take a nap on your comfortable ass couch
Apricot
Just don’t drool on my poor pillows like last time 🙁
Yn
Yeah sure, or I could just not come over
Apricot
FINE, at least hide the massive puddle from me instead of showing me like some proud child who just drew on my walls 😭😭😭😭
Yn
Sorry you give off daddy energy 🤷‍♀️
Apricot
It’s my daddy issues rubbing off on me 🚩😭
Yn
🚩🚩🚩🚩 problem child alert 
Apricot
Hey! You have no idea how evil Senjuro can be. He may look cute, but he uses that against you
Yn
Sounds like a child is able to outsmart you 
Apricot
Just hurry up and get your ass over here 
Yn
Yes sir 🙄
You grin to yourself and those happy butterflies fill your chest yet again. Over the past few months you’d gotten used to the wishy washy way they made you feel. Kind of like you were sinking through a cloud, but a big hunky man would catch you when you fell through. It’d been a while since you masturbated to Yoro since you mostly thought about Kyojuro now. In a way you felt bad, but not too much. You hum happily to yourself and finish up the last minute touches to a cover you were working on. You shut down your computer and glance at what you were wearing in your mirror. Oversized gray sweats and a knit blue tank with a heather gray cardigan loosely covering your shoulders. You looked incredibly sexy. A large grin overtakes your face as you make your way to leave for Kyojuro’s, who happens to live a small jaunt north of you. 
Rengoku paces nervously waiting for you to arrive. Tonight was the night he wanted to tell you that from the beginning he thought you were the most attractive person he’d ever met. How he would say that without sounding creepy…? He didn’t know. He just hoped you’d take it as a compliment. His breath was short and for a moment he thought he might pass out. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and instantly reaches for it. When he realizes it’s a call from his manager he furrows his brows. He hesitantly answers. 
“Yoro, listen, I need you to stream sometime tonight. Views of your colleagues are down to I need you to fill in the donation gaps.” Before he can argue the phone goes silent. His eyes darken and he throws his phone against the couch. He’d planned on editing some videos, but now he had to stream by contract. 
“Fucking hell.” He curses lowly and clenches his fist. 
You arrive within 10 minutes of leaving, the wonderful air making you in an even better mood. Your smile hadn’t left your lips since your conversation with Kyojuro. You take the elevator and knock on his door around 4:33pm. He opens it briskly, his blonde and red hair in a mess around his face. His chin is scruffy and he wears a loose fitted white shirt with black sweats. He looks amazingly sexy. 
“Hello Kyojuro,” You sing and step into his apartment. You wander over to his plush couch and flop down into the cushions. “Don’t mind me, I’ll be here watching some videos while you busy yourself with important secretive content things.” You tease. Little beknownst to you this stikes a nerve in Rengoku. He grits his teeth together and stalks past you. 
“Just stay quiet. I’m going to lock the door.” He quips sternly, barley looking at you. You furrow your brows and watch as he stomps into the office and closes the door. You listen for the click of the lock but it never comes. 
“Who peed in his cheerios?” You whisper to yourself and sigh loudly. His grumpy demenour had certainly put a damper on your mood, but you were too excited to take another nap on his couch to really care. You were sure when you woke up he’d be back to his bright and cheery self. Not long after you lay your head down you fall asleep. 
Rengoku is in your dream, but so is Yoro. They’re both looking at each other and then Rengoku is shirtless and you don’t really care about Yoro anymore. 
You awaken from what seemed like a short dream to a loud noise coming from Kyojuro’s office. You grunt in response, upset that the real Kyojuro probably won’t become shirtless. Your eyes slowly adjust to light and you stretch out your legs and arms while making a silent screeching noise. Not sure why stretches felt so good while making a noise, but it had to be scientifically proven. You should probably check on Kyojuro. You glance at your phone and realize you’d been asleep for nearly an hour. How long does it take to become shirtless? You roll your eyes and smack your dry lips. You stand and stretch one more time before wandering over to the office door. You grab hold of the knob and knock softly.
“Kyojuro?” You whisper hesitantly and twist the knob. The door slowly opens into the office, or what you thought was the office. Your eyes first land on the bed over to the left of the room covered in red sheets. Your eyes flick to the gray walls and then to Kyojuro, who’s eyes are widely looking into yours. It’s then you realize this Kyojuro is in fact shirtless. And pantless. Dick out. Mask on. Hair tucked into a hat. Yoro. The man you touched yourself to and would do anything to fuck. Shame for watching Kyojuro’s content without his consent rushed through you for a moment. It wasn’t like you had purposefully sought out what he posted, but happened upon it before you even knew each other. As long as you never told him you were a fan, things would work out. You wanted to keep this between the both of you for as long as you could. You notice the camera flashing and scoot back toward the door, eyes still trained on the magnificent body in front of you. A wash of overwhelming feelings crash into you, but for the sake of whatever the fuck was happening, you stayed calm. 
“Sorry guys, my cat almost knocked over a plant.” Kyojuro laughs and turns back to his audience. You notice the vibrator strapped to his dick again and the hunger you had tried to keep calm all this time nearly bubbles out. You’d definitely have to talk this out later, but right now you didn’t want to leave the room. You observe him glance at you a couple of times, but he’s trying so hard to keep his cool. He must think you’re in shock. Appalled. Grossed out. Nope. You’re just really fucking horny. It’s taking all your being to not jump him in front of his camera right now. Everything seemingly clicks into place. Why he got so weird at the restaurant. He didn’t want to tell you he was a cam boy. Why he never shared his content with you. Why he was always so secretive with his office and planning. He also happened to be the one streamer you would do anything for. Which meant in a way you were double horny for him? Maybe after he was done you could convince him to give you a private show? Or was that weird? Maybe that was weird. No harm in asking though. “Yes yoroslut the donations are hooked up to the vibrator. If you send a certain amount it correlates with a certain power setting on it.” He smiles as he replies to a comment. Your heart beats faster in your chest as you watch the live show. You could have some fun with this…
You pull out your phone and notice Kyojuro tense. You smirk and sit down on the ground, back against the wall. He furrows his brows as he watches you, obviously confused on what’s happening. You pull up his stream on your phone and lick your lips with anticipation. You click the donation button and the small gift option. After a couple seconds a low buzzing can be heard from Kyojuro. He tenses and his eyes widen as he realizes what you’re doing. His cock stiffens and you can feel your pussy throb hungrily. He’s trying to pay attention to the stream in front of him, but you were distracting. You donate a medium gift. Louder buzzing and Kyojuro lets out a breathy moan, eyes trained on you. He was searching your face, his muscles tensed because of you. His chest is heaving and you enjoy the way his cock twitches because of the donations you’re sending. Next was the large gift. Incredibly loud buzzing fills the room and Kyojuro doubles over gripping his desk. He whimpers and it cracks into a loud moan. You can hear his breathing from where you sit on his floor. The buzzing continues and Kyojuro starts to shake, his muscles flexing like crazy as he tries to contain himself. You read some of the comments flying by. 
Great show. This is so hot!
This is why Yoro is my favorite!
So glad you decided to stream tonight!
Rengoku is letting out soft moans and his eyes squeeze shut. You can’t handle the hunger building in your chest and pussy so you crawl over on all fours to his chair. He’s already scooted out pretty far from trying to contain himself, so crawling under the desk is a simple task. Once you’re there you peer up at him. His blazing eyes meet yours and from the way he’s breathing you can tell he’s close to climaxing. 
“I want you to be a good boy and cum in my mouth.” You whisper ever so lightly. His eyes widen slightly but then they flutter shut and he gives you the tiniest nod. You rip off the vibrator from his throbbing and twitching cock. You wrap your hand around him, but since he’s so girthy your hand barley covers any space. You work him as best you can nevertheless. Kyojuro grunts softly and he tries to look back at the comments. You like the way his dick feels in your hand, theres a slight curve at the tip that helps him not slip out of your handjob. 
“I-I like,” He groans and his eyes shut again. “I enjoy ramen.” He pants. He must be answering a comment. It’s time for the finishing move. You smirk to yourself, even though you’re a little nervous. You were having fun now, but what about later when everyone had their clothes on and it got serious? You push those thoughts to the back of your head and kiss Kyojuro’s tip and make eye contact with him. You smooch it again and his body visibly shudders. You then take him in your mouth, lips curling around his length. “F-fuck.” He curses and you hear him hit the desk above you. “Sorry guys, I-I-I,” His eyes roll back into his head and without finishing you hear the end of the steam noise. You still bob your head up and down his cock. You can feel him tensing in your mouth. He tears off his mask and hat, watching you suck his pretty cock. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair, letting out a low rumbling moan. You hum against his dick and his hand is suddenly in your hair, tangled with the soft locks. He pulls your mouth off him and stares at you, breathless. “What the fuck are you doing princess?” He growls. The angry look on his face tells you that you should be scared, but the fact he called you princess in that tone makes you squirm with excitement. 
“Reciting the declaration of independence.” You reply like a smartass. Kyojuro looks you up and down, spit dripping down your chin and a bit of his precum smeared under your lip. You glance down at his erection and then meet his gaze again. “Are you going to let me continue…or?” You trail off moving closer to him on your knees. Kyojuro’s last bit of humanity is thrown out the window as he can smell your delicious scent. 
“No.” He replies in a raspy voice. You tilt your head as he stands from his chair and flops down on the bed. “Come over here y/n” He commands. Your eyes widen and heat crawls all over your body. Rengoku lays on the bed, putting a pillow underneath his head. His eyes track you as you slowly rise to your feet. You sheepishly drop the cardigan and step out of your sweats. Your tank top is easy to slip off over your head and your sports bra comes off with it. You then slowly shimmy out of your underwear. Rengoku’s eyes flit over every inch of your body. He looks away before glancing back. Taking a double take. You feel your whole body warm. “Now get over here princess.” His usual fiery eyes are dark and hungry. With the way your needy cunt pulses, you don’t waste any time. You crawl up on the bed with him and slowly start to position yourself over his chest. His eyes practically eat you up as you scoot a little closer. “Come on my love, you need to be on top for me to use my mouth.” He coos. You nervously bite your lip and sit down on his face. His nose to your clit and he doesn’t miss this oppurtunity to be smothered by your thick thighs. The tip of his nose rubbing against your clit and a soft moan slipping from your mouth. Before you have any time to react his tongue slips between your folds. A surprised yelp comes from your mouth as he continues to explore you with his tongue. It swirls against your clit, prodding the sensative spot like it was something stuck in his teeth he was trying to get out with his tongue. You try to find friction against his nose, biting your lip to contain your moans. Your breath becomes heavy and labored as Rengoku fucks you with his long tongue. You bring your finger to your mouth and bite down. 
“Ah, Kyojuro, oh my god.” You murmured. Your words must motivate him to not let up on nudging your clit with his nose and lapping up your juices. “F-fuck, ungh, yes, right t-there.” You can feel the pressure of an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you’re seeing stars as he continues. Your hands are suddenly tangled in his hair holding him to your pussy. Your legs start to jerk as you ride out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You let out a howling moan, finally not holding back the sounds you wanted to make. You slide off his face and flop down on next to him. Kyojuro pants and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He licks the juices off his hand and maintains eye contact with you. 
“Fucking tasty. Best thing I've ever ate.” He pants, looking you up and down. “Don’t hold back those beautiful noises from me my love.” A boyish grin replaces the serious look on his face as he props himself up on his elbow. “So I guess you know what I do for a living now.” His cheeks are red and your heart pounds in your chest. Yeah and you were his top donator. “I hope you don’t mind, I mean it seems like you didn’t because…you know…we…” He glances away and bites his bottom lip. “What I’m trying to say is…what are you thinking right now?” His eyes meet yours again looking for an answer.
What were you supposed to say? You knew about him before so the shock of finding out that Yoro and Kyojuro were the same person hadn’t phased you. What was bothering you was Rengoku finding out that you were a fan of his. You feel like that would cause problems between the both of you and all you wanted was to be able to fuck him as you pleased. Hell, maybe you’d even start to date. You didn’t know, but him figuring out that you’d watched him before wouldn’t be good news. 
“I think we should continue where we left off.” 
Yeah, this was for the best. 
780 notes · View notes
kissitbttr · 28 days
Note
i love the frat boys so imagine them taking care of muñeca whenever mig isn’t there (which is like never but let’s imagine)
“y/n !! what do you want for breakfast?”
“that’s not her name! it’s muñeca, glen!”
“do you want o’hara to kill you, man?!”
“yeah, well?! he isn’t here!”
dear lord it’s only 8 in the morning and she swears her head is about to explode,
miguel had to clock in at work early than usual, leaving his girlfriend at the house. as much as he hates the idea of it, he’s got no choice. not just the fact that he didn’t get the chance to have a lazy morning with her but also the fact that he’s leaving her with the boys, too.
he loves them but they could be a real pain in the ass and a major flirt, except for beck.
“just call me if one of them tries to do something with you, cariño— i love you”
it’s what he said before leaving,
not even an hour after he’s gone that his frat brothers are making her lose her mind with all the noise,
she sighs as she massages her temple, sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee between hands. one that is made by glen, surprisingly tasting a bit better that what her boyfriend usually makes,
“guys! i’ll eat anything i swear—just please shut. up” she groans softly, pulling the hems of miguel’s thick knitted sweater that clings onto her body, protecting her from chilly morning air,
carlos shakes his head, arms crossed. “that is not an answer! what. do you. want. to. eat!”
“carlos! i swear to fucking—“
“banana bread maybe, or muffins? what does miguel usually get for you anyway? ah! matcha, isn’t it!” glen interrupts with a smile,
“oooh, how about a nice BLT? you know there’s a rookie here who knows how to make a mean BLT sandwich and you could hire him for the rest of your day to be your slave! just until miguel comes back” carlos suggests, ready to call whoever his name is
“oh my god, don’t say that word” she responds, taking another sip. “you are banned from using that”
“what, ‘hire’?” carlos looks genuinely confused,
she heaves out a heavy sigh, it’s like talking with children. “no. the S word” her eyes dart between the other guys who are looking like they’re ready to serve her with whatever it is she desires.
did miguel put them up to this?
“guys guys come on, she’s big enough to handle shit on her own” beck tells them, popping himself a canned of black coffee and she secretly thanks him for being the most logical one. “but just in case you want a croissant or something just let me know”
“i’ll pick something up from the bakery, just let me borrow your keys” she replies and getting ready to stand up, earning a collective of no’s and hands holding out to stop her. “you all realize that i’m not five?!” she’s getting a tad bit irritated,
“gotcha but!” carlos holds his point finger up, “we’re all instructed to take care of you—“
“no we didn’t?”
“chang, you’re ruining it, shut the fuck up” carlos glares at his asian frat brother who’s hands are up as if to show defense. “anyways—we are instructed to take care of you and if miguel finds out that we’re doing a terrible job at it, all of us are dead. literally”
“i think you’re just exaggerating, carlos” she tries to smile despite wanting to kill him. “he’s not capable of killing anyone”
“didn’t he get into a fight with two guys for staring at your ass and talking about how they’d use you at the same time?” glen chimes in, leaning forward on the kitchen table,
“that doesn’t count, it was not a fight, it was a slaughter. o’hara went apeshit” beck chuckles, taking a seat beside her,
“okay well that happened nearly months ago” she points out at the specific memory, one where she had to stop miguel from going overboard. she’d hate it if her boyfriend went to jail for what happened, “it’s all in the past”
“yeah well those two men are still on his black list” beck shrugs, “you know how serious he gets when it comes to you, kid”
she sighs for what it feels like a hundredth time that morning. “okay you know what, if it gets you all to be quiet, especially you carlos” she throws a soft glare at the man who’s wearing an innocent smile, standing tippy toes. “then just—can i please have that BLT sandwich? i am starving”
carlos claps his hands, “absolutely, you gorgeous human being! oi, rookie! get down here! muñeca needs breakfast!” he calls out the boy from downstairs,
“holy—carlos! why did i just tell you?!” beck snaps, narrowing his eyes at his frat brother,
“oh, my bad—i mean, mrs. o’hara needs breakfast!”
114 notes · View notes
yuri-is-online · 8 months
Note
ooohh 500 already?? it feels like the 300 special was just a few weeks ago ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ノ⁠✧ can i get prompt 6 with ace and deuce together?? hehe congrats again, more milestones to come!! (⁠*⁠^⁠3⁠^⁠)⁠/⁠~⁠♡
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6. Crowley has decided to put together a murder mystery for the whole ball and you've been the first one "killed." Whoever is playing detective seems really upset about that.
So I was uncertain if by together you meant Aduece + Yuu or Ace + Yuu and Deuce + Yuu. As it stands, I had an idea for Aduece + Yuu and requests for Ace and Deuce separately, so this post will contain Aduece + Yuu. I'm confused just writing that, but I hope it makes sense. If this is not what you wanted, you are more than welcome to make a second request. There is no time limit on that.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, what's worse than one angry guard dog? Two angry guard dogs! Or is it two and a half if you count Grim I guess. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist.
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Aduece
"And our first victim for tonight will be the prefect! I would have expected them to be the last victim how very odd." Crowley almost sounds sympathetic and you almost sound interested, you even let out a little "oh no" almost relived whoever was playing the murderer had decided to give you such a nice excuse to sit the next rounds of what you are certain is going to turn into a massive dick measuring contest. Grim does not share your gracious nature.
"This is bullshit!" He thrashes around in your embrace making grabby paws at the gathered crowd as if he is really going to make Mr. X regret killing you. "Just my hench human's name got pulled, why's that mean I gotta go?!"
"Aww, Grimmy, it's ok, we all know you'd be next." Ace laughs but there's a strange strain to it. He's run his fingers nervously through his hair several times now, and now that you've noticed he tries a more familiar smile, dropping his hand to tap his thigh instead. "Don't wait up for us, ok? Juice and I aren't going home anytime soon." You roll your eyes at the joke before giving both your friends a quick hug.
"For luck." You say with a quick wink before shuffling yourself and Grim up to the balcony soothing him with promises of food that you're sure will still be up there.
As soon as you are gone all pretense between the two drops as they both look at the identical cards they had been bickering over just a few moments earlier.
"I still think we should tell the headmage." Is what Deuce says, but he's missing his usual determination Ace finds so cute and yet so annoying every time he suggests the three of you cut class. "When he was explaining the rules he clearly said that there was only supposed to be one ca-"
"Then he can just deal with looking stupid." Snaps Ace. "It's not like he ever does anything else. Look can't you hear what they're saying about Yuu?" It's a low blow, they both can hear the snickering of the usual suspects, but Deuce grinds his teeth particularly sharply to find so many new people joining in. "They think it's funny." Ace says, voice dropping low and deathly serious with what he tells himself is just the intention to rile Deuce up. They both look up at the gallery, Yuu looks.... happy. Content with their lot as if they never expected any other outcome. It's beautiful, that carefree smile that turns into a pure beam once they notice the two of them looking up at them, and there is something breathtaking about knowing only the two of them can bring it out.
That seals it. Lovely as it is, the sight is wrong. You should be down here between the two of them laughing at the loosers who thought they were good at hiding themselves among the masses. Surprisingly, it's Deuce who takes the lead, turning away from Yuu and placing a firm hand on Ace's shoulder to convince him to do the same.
"It's probably one of the guys from one of the other classes." Class 1A wasn't completely loyal to each other, this was NRC after all, but all of them like the three of you. And they all knew better than to do anything to you when Ace and Deuce had you sat snugly between them like you had been all night. "If I had to make a guess, it's probably one of the guys from Leona's class."
"What makes you think it's an upper classmen?" Whispers Ace, shaking himself together and yanking Deuce back to the center of the ballroom to get a better look at the crowd.
"They wouldn't be afraid of us. And any Savanaclaw students in Leona's class would have a bone to pick with Yuu after that whole incident with Azul." It's surprisingly solid reasoning from Deuce, real proof he could probably hack it as a Magic Marshal, and Ace makes sure to take note so he can tease him about it later. But he's not entirely sold on it being pure skill that's gotten Deuce this far.
Seriously Ace thought beastmen were supposed to be good at hunting.
"Hey there, buddy." Ace throws an elbow into the Savanaclaw extra's side (partially to throw him off by annoying him but mostly to keep Deuce from jumping him immediately). "Having fun tonight? I'd have thought a big guy like you would find this whole thing boring."
"What's a fresh punk like you know about that?" His snort would be low and intimidating if Deuce wasn't so angry. "It's always the weakest links that get picked off first, I don't have to worry about shit till later."
"Oh you mean like Epel?" The upperclassman stiffens at Deuce's question, line of sight snapping away from their oblivious friend and back to the now maniacly grinning freshman who has decided to forcefully elbow his other side. Ace gives a laugh that would make Floyd proud as Deuce continues. "Cause I know you wouldn't be planning on him being your next victim, unless you really are as dumb as you look."
"What the hell are you!"
"Oi headmage!" Yells Ace, making sure to flourish the detective card in a way he very smugly thinks only he could. "We got your guy, bag him and tag a better one in next time, yeah?"
A general groan comes up from the crowd with how quickly the game is over, with Crowley quickly agreeing to another round as you once again find yourself sandwiched between your bickering friends.
"Oh come on there's no way the headmage intended for you to be the detective." Ace huffs, head firmly rested on your lap so he can glare up at Deuce resting on your shoulder. "I'm the one always taking care of you two, clearly it was intended for me."
"I'm the one who caught the killer though." A kinder version of that manic grin is firmly fixed to Deuce's face as you sigh and check the time on your phone wondering if they'll get in trouble with Riddle if they stay up here with you longer.
"Boys Boys, you're both pretty." That shuts them up, but maybe not for the reason you think. "But won't you lose your heads if you stay here much longer?"
"Eh I'm sure Riddle will understand." Ace smiles and though Deuce sputters in hesitation he makes now move to leave. "Besides, if he does not, we'll just bunk with you tonight."
"You're worth the trouble." Says Deuce, with a bit more force than usual and you sigh.
"Honestly, I should be saying that to the two of you." And though it should be said with a bit more meaning, instead you say it with a laugh.
A laugh that's quickly returned.
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iamqueenpotato · 1 year
Text
I Hate That I Love You - Part Seven
A/N-  Hi guys! Surprisingly I wrote this one way quicker than I thought. I hope you guys enjoy! It is also very late where I'm at so if there are some errors, I tried my best to proof read it but there may be some things I missed. I appreciate all the support you guys have given me! Love you!
Word Count: 2.6k 
Warnings: Angst(But like what's new lol) 
Part One Part Eight
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It had been three days.
Three days since Azriel spoke to you, three days since he finally told you how he felt, but even though your reaction was justified, it still hurt him. The disappointment on your face was burned into his mind, his shadows kept whispering your name, your moans a constant echo in his thoughts. 
He knew he made a mistake when he chose Elain, but a friend is all he thought you saw him as. He tried to move on with her. You never once showed any interest, but that day you admitted those feelings he saw how wrong he was. And by the time the truth came forward he was stuck in a place that he could not easily break free from. 
You were-are his best friend, even if you didn't think so, he still saw you as that. But who knew the two of you shared the same fears of ruining the relationship you had. He hated that he was so blind to your affections. 
Azriel should have noticed sooner, he should have taken that risk and told you long ago how he felt about you. But he was a fool and let his fears stand in the way of what could have been. And he made you feel unimportant, neglected. Something he could never forgive himself for, he should have paid more attention to you. 
The situation he currently was in was all his fault. When you had left the first time he was devastated, not only for the fact that he had lost his best friend, but that you had reciprocated those feelings Azriel thought to never had existed. He should have confessed then and there, he should of begged more to keep you from leaving, he should have never chose Elain over you, it wasn’t fair to either of you with the mistakes he had made. He should have tried harder to fight for what he wanted. 
And the more he thought about it, the more he realized Elain and him did not fit together. She was sweet and caring, and she meant well but he never felt as though he could tell her everything, as though he could never be transparent about the things he goes through. At the end of the day it only seemed she was a body to keep his bed warm, and he felt terrible to even think of her in such a way.
But with you it was different. Elain would always cower away and be visibly disturbed when he would explain the things he had done for his missions, Always claiming how maybe he shouldn’t do such things anymore, then perhaps it wouldn't be an issue. And maybe she was right, but it never made him feel better. He knew the things he had done were graphic, he knew the horrid things he’d put others through for information, and at the end of the day all he wanted was someone to talk to about it, Elain could never be that person. 
But you always have been.
He vividly remembers the first time coming to your room after a mission that had put more blood on his hands. It wasn’t the torture or killing that bothered him, it was the feeling afterwards that broke him, the hollowness he felt, the disappointment that he experienced that never went away. One night it swallowed him, he was in his room, washing away the blood of a few males he was instructed to interrogate when the feelings crept on him like a dark fog, he couldn’t breathe, only able to stare at his blood stained hands, he felt like a monster. He knew those men deserved it and he found their deaths to be satisfying. But maybe that made him more of a horror than he could ever imagine. 
He made it to your room in the midst of his panic attack, pounding on the door still in his leathers, blood all over him. And when you opened the door, you did not look at him with anger or disgust. He must’ve woken you that night, based on the tiredness in your eyes and the mess your hair was in, but you didn’t yell at him nor push him out. Instead you brought him in, he didn’t even have to say a word for you to understand what he needed. You brought him into your bathroom, wiping the blood off his hands, his face, out of his hair. You were so gentle when it came to him, it was something he never experienced before. You ran a bath for him, telling him to finish up and you would be waiting outside. And when he came out he found you sitting in front of the fire, two cups of tea in front of you, he sat on the opposite side of the couch tentatively grabbing the tea from your hands. And then he talked about everything. Every last gory detail of his kills, the pain he felt inside. You did not flinch, nor did you tell him to stop because you were disturbed, you sat and listened, holding his hand the entire time. The hands that brought so much death, but you held on to them so tightly that he wanted you to never let go. He could live in that moment, his fingers interlaced with yours if that meant you would never leave his side. You never once criticized his choices. He didn’t feel alone for the first time in his life. And he never felt alone knowing he had you. 
It was a memory that he had cherished. He had many fond memories of you, but that one always stood out to him. And now looking back, that was the start of his love for you.
Azriel didn’t realize he was crying as he watched the memory playback in his mind until he was brought back to reality as the clock in his room struck at the new hour. He didn’t bother wiping his tears away, he let them fall, he let his pain show.
He and Elain are to be wed in a little over an hour. But deep down he knew he couldn’t go through with it. He tried to end it, but between being sent on last minute missions and Elain celebrating with her friends and sisters, he never found the chance to speak to her about it. He needed more time, he needed a chance to sit alone with his thoughts, he did not want this wedding he knew that as much, but it wasn’t an easy thing to just end. 
You were a sensitive topic to bring up around Elain, he never knew why, since he had never once mentioned his feelings to anyone but each time he spoke his emotions about missing you, she would become aggravated and want to change the subject, or climb on top of him to distract him. How was he supposed to claim the reason he can’t be with her was because of you? He didn't want to hurt her either but to fix what he had broken it was a choice he would have to make. Because he has never loved someone as much as he loves you. 
He was sitting alone in front of the windows as his body shook with sobs. He felt so stupid, so naïve to have made such mistakes. He had something amazing in front of him the entire time, and he fucked it all up. 
There was a knock at the door, his shadows alerting him of his brother standing on the other side. “What do you want, Rhys?” Azriel called out, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. But Rhys let himself into his room, not saying a word until he sat down next to him. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your wedding?” Rhys asked, wiping away lint from his jacket. 
“I am not going through with it.” Azriel spoke silently. 
“Good.” Rhys stated, and Azriel looked at him confused, Rhys continued. “You know I will support you through it all Azriel, but your choices have been quite questionable lately. I know you mean well with Elain, but she is not the one for you brother. She never was.” 
“I know that now. I think I’ve always known. It just took some time to see the truth.” Azriel leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palm. 
“So what are you going to do about it then?” 
“I have to find Elain, tell her the truth. Then hopefully Y/N will have the heart to forgive me one day.” Azriel stared up at the ceiling, attempting to keep his tears at bay. His only goal was to gain your forgiveness. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the thought of you rejecting the bond. 
“Well it is quite the day to do so, quite dramatic if I may point out.” Rhys gave a lighthearted chuckle, before leaning forward on his legs. 
“I wanted to do it earlier but I hadn’t found the time.” 
Rhys nodded, a silence falling between them before he spoke again. "I won’t lie, I enjoyed seeing you feel only part of what Y/N has felt for the last couple years.” 
“Years? Fuck.” Azriel pondered the reality of it, years you had felt something for him when he had never noticed, he had made you feel such pain for so long, he didn’t deserve another chance with you, he didn’t deserve you at all. You were this light to him, and the darkness of his mistakes suffocated it. “Rhys, how do I take back what I have done? How do I make Y/N believe she is the one I want.” Even if it took years or even decades he would spend his entire life trying to make it up to you. 
“Well first I believe you need to end an engagement to my sister-in-law. After that, I believe that is a conversation you need to have with your mate. And pray she gives you another chance.”
Azriel knew those things, but there was still one question sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Where did you send her, Rhys?” Azriel fidgeted with the loose string of fabric on the arm rest. 
“Do you promise not to interfere?” Rhys questioned and Azriel nodded. “I sent her back to Windhaven.” 
Azriel shot out of his chair. “Windhaven!” He paced back and forth in his room, “With no escort? No protection?” 
“You of all people should know Y/N can handle herself brother.” Rhys did not look bothered, and Azriel knew the skills you possessed but if something went wrong and you got hurt, he would never forgive himself. He began walking to the door but Rhys’s voice stopped him. “Where are you headed?” 
Azriel didn’t bother to look back at his brother. “I will not interfere, I just need to make sure she is safe.” He opened the door but was immediately greeted by Elain and her sisters. “Elain. Hi.” Azriel forced out, his voice quiet and hoarse. 
“We are supposed to be getting married soon, what are you doing sulking around?” Elain bit out, her sister's eyes going wide at the sudden volume of her tone. Azriel sighed. “Is this because of that whore?” 
“What?” Azriel looked down at her, anger flashing in his eyes. “What did you just say?” 
“Y/N, is this because of her? You heard me correctly.” Elain crossed her arms in front of her chest, with no remorse for her words. 
“Elain.” Nesta snapped, but her sister ignored her. 
“Were you going to never share the fact that you kissed her or that you wanted to fuck her? Was that information supposed to be a secret?” Elain continued on, and the anger only grew within Azriel, how dare she speak of you in such a way. She had no right to call you such slurs. “We were better off when she wasn’t around. She put a damper on our relationship, we were much happier when she ran off the first time, she should have stayed away.” 
“Enough!” Azriel snapped, and Elain stumbled backwards, shocked to see him react in such a way. “You do not speak of her that way, Elain. Y/N did not do anything to impede on our relationship, I was the one that kissed her. Me. She was the one who thought it wasn’t right. Do not spread such lies about her. Now if you don’t mind I need to be on my way.” He pushed past Elain. Nesta and Feyre moved out of his way as he stepped into the hallway, moving further away from his room. 
“Do not take another step, Azriel, or the wedding is off.” Elain yelled down the hall. As if were a threat, as if he would continue his life with her after the things she had said. 
“Call it off Elain.” He knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t something that involved her anymore. And the one thing he thought would be hard to confront, fell off his tongue with such ease.
“How dare you? After all that we have been through? You would end that for her?” Elain stormed toward him down the hall, he did not move, he would stand his ground, for you and for himself. 
“Yes.” He eyed down Elain, shock and hurt across her features. “I have loved her for years Elain, and I thought I lost her when she left, that I would never have a chance to ask for forgiveness and I am sorry I led you on, I am sorry I let it get this far. But she is my purpose, she is the one that holds my heart. So throw your worst at me Elain, scream, curse, hit me for all I care but know nothing is stronger than the love I have for her, my soul yearns for her. Nothing will ever change that. I should have never hidden my feelings for her. I made a mistake and I am truly sorry that it has affected you so, but Y/N is my best friend, my other half and I should have never put her second.” It felt like such a relief to say those words out loud, to finally let the truth free. 
“I saw this coming. I knew you would choose her.” She spoke loudly, as if she had always doubted him from the start.
“Then why are you shocked?” He spoke coldly, not afraid of the consequences anymore.
“You bastard.” Elain cursed, raising her hand to slap Azriel across the face, and he stood there, ready to accept it, she could hit him all she would like, but he would not change his mind. 
Suddenly a sharp pain flowed throughout his body, like he was just thrown across the room, as if his body was being dragged along sharp rocks. Azriel collapsed onto his knees, bracing himself with his arms as the agony came and went like a gust of wind. 
He felt like someone was screaming in his mind, calling out for help, reaching for him, and that thread tugged within his chest, fear and pain rushing down the bond. “Y/N.” He choked out, panic lacing his voice. He was gasping for air, clutching his chest with one hand while the other kept him from collapsing. 
“Azriel what is going on, what just happened?” He felt Feyre’s hand on his shoulder. Noticing the small crowd that formed around him.
He looked up toward his high lady, his breathing still rapid. His shadows circled around him, whispering horrid things in his ear. Mate. Hurt. Panic. Injured. Trapped. “Something’s wrong, terribly wrong.” He pulled at the bond, but there was no response, just emptiness. “Y/N is in trouble.” His heart began racing, fear filling his thoughts. 
He didn’t wait for a response before disappearing into his shadows, heading directly for Windhaven.
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adamstnheights · 1 year
Text
Second Chances - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Ever since your unit merged with Task Force 141 one year ago, your dynamic with Ghost had been confusing to the others. At first, it just seemed like the two of you didn’t get along. Then, it was clear that you and Ghost didn’t like each other at all. But in the last couple of months, Soap has noticed a shift. Sometimes he catches you staring at Ghost during briefings, with some sort of a sparkle in your eye. He notices the way Ghost moves to position himself between you and someone who might not be trustworthy. He sees how you rush to Ghost’s side when he’s injured in combat and the way you whisper reassuring things to him as you tie a bandage around his wound. Surely… something must have happened between the two of you, right? Soap decides to find out for himself.
Content: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Past relationship, Angsty flashback where Ghost is kind of really mean, Ghost not feeling like he deserves love, Near death experiences, Angst with a happy ending, Supportive bestie Soap, Talking about feelings, Making up, Reassurance, Soft Ghost
Word Count: 5.5k
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Soap finally finds out the deal with you two during a night out drinking with the rest of the crew. You weren’t there, because you weren’t really one for drinks, but surprisingly, Ghost was also absent. He never would get as rowdy and excited from a night out as the rest of the guys did, but he’d usually never pass up drinks. Soap wondered if he was with you.
Soap thought back to earlier that day at training, how he noticed Ghost’s hand on the small of your back. With his other hand, he had patted you on the shoulder in a more friendly ‘Good job’ way, but the way his other hand brushed along down your back was certainly something different. Soap had stared wide-eyed from across the workout room, unashamedly, because he knew both of you were too caught up in the other to even notice. And he needed to commit all of his evidence to memory, anyways. Now, as he looked around at the table, conveniently missing both you and the lieutenant, Soap thought he might as well ask the question—see if he’s crazy for the things he’d noticed recently.
“So… er, anyone know what the deal is with Y/N and Ghost?” He asked.
Soap thought there’d be laughter or at least some smiles amongst the group, because there was absolutely no way that only he had picked up on the ways Ghost’s edge would soften around you. It seemed like a right opportunity for the rest of the guys to tease Ghost for acting all soft and sweet, but instead, the group fell silent.
“What the—um, did I say something wrong?” Soap scrambled. “I mean, come on, there’s no way I’m the only one who sees the way they make ‘fuck me’ eyes at each other during training, right?”
Gaz almost choked on his drink. Everyone else at the table looked over at Price. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“They— Uh— Look, you know the Lieutenant doesn’t like his shit being talked about,” Price said lowly, “But I think everyone here must have some idea of what their deal is… Well, they used to be together. Together together, probably about five or six years. The both of em were in the army for years, just in different units and such. But a… near death experience really got him fucked up. And around that same time, Y/N had been talking about getting married, but however jumbled up Ghost’s brain’d got from what happened—he said no. Told her they couldn’t get married because… for some reason he was absolutely convinced that he’d get killed in action and he didn’t want to hurt her like that. As if breaking things off with her wasn’t a million times more hurtful. And things were manageable when they were in different units, but two years back, her squad merged with ours, as you know. I think they were forced to confront what had happened. It’s fuckin’ obvious that Ghost’s feelings haven’t changed ’bout her. I’m sure he knows what he did was a mistake—he just doesn’t know how to admit it. They basically act like they’re married anyways, or at least, still together. It’s ridiculous.”
Soap couldn’t believe it. He’d seen Ghost make some poor decisions on the battlefield before, and the way he would always refuse to get medical attention after a particularly hard mission annoyed Soap to no end, but saying no to getting married to you was certainly the stupidest thing he’s done—Soap now knew that for sure. His heart broke just a little more for the secretive couple; the sweet, fleeting moments he’d caught between them now seemed even more bittersweet knowing their history. He wondered how on fucking Earth you’d put up with him for the past two years, seeing him practically every day you were on active duty. You were a strong woman for not punching Ghost in the face for what he’d done; Soap was greatly considering leaving the bar, finding wherever the fuck the lieutenant went, and doing just that.
“Fuckin’ Jesus… And… she’s just okay with that? And with being around him all the time after that? I would have requested a fuckin’ transfer the moment I realized,” Soap fumed, anger rising in his chest on behalf of you.
“I think…” Price stopped for a moment, really thinking about it. His mouth formed a somber smile and he turned more towards Soap. “I think she would rather see him every day, even if it hurts, just to have the reassurance that he’s alive and well.”
“What a right fuckin’ bastard,” Soap cursed. 
———
When the group returned to base, Soap passed by Ghost’s room on the way to his own. The door was closed, as always, and he couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side. It looked dark, except for a bit of dim light shining through the crack under the door, leading Soap to believe he was probably in there. He always betted on the Lieutenant living off of only an hour of sleep a night. Maybe he was just laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling like the strange fucker he was.
Soap slipped into his own room, hanging up his jacket in the closet. He hesitated, only for a brief moment, before stepping back out into the hallway and making his way over to the other side of the building, where your room was. Unlike Ghost’s eerily quiet room, soft music could be heard from the other side of your door as Soap approached. He knocked.
“Who is it?” You asked.
“Jus’ me,” Soap announced, knowing his accent was enough for you to know who it was.
You turned the music off and unlocked the door, opening it. 
“Hey, Johnny,” you smiled, moving aside to let him in. “Weren’t you and the guys out at the bar? D’you want to use one of my face masks again?” Whenever Soap got drunk, he enjoyed raiding your skincare collection. The last time he’d stumbled into your room after a night of drinking, Ghost had walked by your room as well (now Soap knew why he was stopping by) and saw you and Soap putting the scented, damp masks on your faces. Ghost had shook his head and mumbled something about the two of you looking ridiculous, to which Soap had said that they actually looked a lot like him! (Hey, L.T., there’s even little eye holes in this thing, kind of like your mask!)
Soap shook his head, much more sober than any of the nights that he came by for his silly shenanigans. The ride home thinking about your and Ghost’s history certainly sobered him up a lot. He knew it was truly none of his business, but the two of you had become so close over the years, Soap almost felt offended that you’d never told him before.
“Not this time,” he said softly, “I, er, wanted to talk to you, a’tually.”
You suddenly became serious, not knowing what he’d want to talk about. Was something wrong?
“Of course, what’s going on?”
Soap sighed. There was no easy way to ease into the subject. “Price told us about you and Ghost. I’m sorry, I know it’s none of my business, but I pried and and we were all kind of drunk and he told us.”
“Oh.” You choked out quietly. “Right. I mean— He… everything?”
“Mostly,” Soap replied, “About you two being together for a long time before… and then something happened with Ghost and he pulled back from you… and him saying no—” You buried your head in your hands, a small whimper leaving your lips. Soap shut up and went to sit next to you on the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said.
When you dropped your hands from your face, your eyes were shiny with tears, and a few had run down your cheeks. You wiped them off with your sleeve quickly, looking at Soap with a pathetic smile. “I knew you were looking at us weird the other day,” you said, “When we were in the hallway talking, and you came up behind us and gave me a look… I didn’t know what you were thinking… I didn’t know if you’d seen the way I was looking at him.”
“Can I ask you something blunt?” Soap asked slowly, unsure if he should even be asking at all. You nodded. “Why… why’re you acting all civil ’round ’im? I mean… how can you stand to be around him after what happened?”
You remember back to what was the beginning of the end.
———
He’d been captured and tortured—almost to death—for a week before 141 found him. Price had called you the moment Simon was loaded into the ambulance, and you had rushed off of the base you were on to the hospital. You were in a different unit, so you had no idea what kind of a mission 141 had been on or what had happened. Even Price didn’t know everything—only Simon knew what happened in that torture chamber, and even then, a lot of it was lost from memory since he had faded in and out of consciousness. All Price had told you was that he was tortured (but that he was a good soldier, he didn’t give up any information) and that it was all too close. Simon had a fair amount of violent exchanges under his belt, more than you could count. But you could tell from the somberness in his voice that this time, it was really too close. You’d shuddered at the reality that Simon could have died. You’d pushed past everyone else and ran into the hospital room where he was.
He was groggy, mostly unconscious. He was hooked up to a heart monitor, slowly beating. You’d run to kneel at the side of the bed, resting your forehead on his arm. You were sobbing. Simon was awake enough to realize your presence, but he could barely move. His body was riddled with stab wounds, his skin was still stained with dirt and blood. As much as he yearned to sit up and hold you, he also wanted to push you away, not allow you to see him like that. He didn’t want you to cry. He didn’t want to feel helpless lying there while you worried. Somehow, he felt painfully guilty as you stayed in the hospital room with him without question, leaning against your jacket to fall asleep in a chair placed next to his bed.
Of course, Simon had insisted he go home the moment the doctor said it could be allowed—not a second later. You tried to convince him to schedule an appointment for physical therapy and he refused. You mistakenly suggested he take some time off, since the mission was over and he wasn’t actively on duty. He also refused. He said if something came up the next day, he needed to be available to go. You chalked up his refusal to Simon just being Ghost. You knew that side of him, the side that refused help and pushed on, past the pain. What you didn’t know was that laying in that hospital bed for almost two weeks created some kind of ugly rage inside of him, a mix of self-preservation and selfishness and self-sabotage. The moment the two of you got back to your apartment, he was different.
You knew damn well not to baby him, but you just thought that getting some take out from his favorite place would help him feel better, after having to put up with the hospital food and all. You suggested it, and Simon only grumbled and retreated to your room. You assumed he wanted to shower and get changed. After an hour passed, you pushed open the door to see him lying on the bed, back towards the door.
By the next month, his initial coldness seemed to wash away. He was seemingly back to normal, cuddling and kissing you in the mornings and cracking his usual jokes. But deep down, Simon still felt unusually gross. He felt disgusted by himself. He hadn’t felt that way in years, not since he met you. Now, he was having nightmares about being held up in that cell, taunted and stabbed and starved. Over the years, you’d coaxed him to open up to you about any nightmares he may have, any sadness or anger that may be creeping in. But this time, somehow, was different to him. He didn’t want to let you in to what he endured. He didn’t want you to be stuck with him and all of his burdens anymore. So, he would do what he did best: put on a facade.
Another two months passed by and soon it was your six year anniversary. You’d suggested setting up the dining room all fancy, since Simon wasn’t one to go out to eat. You lit candles and used your fancy plates and you put on an outfit you were saving for a special occasion. He had been quieter than usual, but you understood completely. You couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. You would try to get him to open up about his feelings another day. All you wanted was for him to feel loved on such a special day. You did most of the talking at dinner, and you began rambling about how much you love him and how you were grateful for him. As you became more emotional and sentimental, you felt as though it was the perfect time to bring something up. Nothing final or definite, necessarily. But it was something you and Simon had talked about before.
“...And maybe one day soon, we could think about really settling down…you know?” You’d looked up at him with wide, eager eyes, but met with an unfamiliar, blank look. A cold silence filled the room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Simon’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to.
“What? Are you askin’ me to marry you?” He sounded more angry than excited, and it made your stomach turn.
“I— I mean—” you began to falter, “I don’t have a ring or anything, no, but I mean, before you left a couple months ago we were talking about maybe getting married, and I just thought—”
“That was a long time ago,” Simon said.
You blinked. “So, what, you’re saying… you’ve changed your mind?” Tears began stinging your eyes.
“I’m saying that a lot of shit has happened since then,” he practically spat. You know what he meant, that the last mission—the torture—was going to weigh on him for a while; hell, it would probably affect him for the rest of his life. You weren’t one to expect trauma to be pushed to the side, simply “gotten over.” But you didn’t think it would take him away from you. You thought that you could be there for him, to support him, for the rest of your lives.
“So… what, y–you don’t want to be with me?” You choked out, desperate for him to just say what he meant.
“I don’t think we should get married.” Simon paused, looking down at the table. “And… I don’t think you should be with me.”
You froze. You’d heard him say that before, many times before actually, but it never had that much edge to it. He would say it quietly, when he was feeling self-conscious or sad and thought that he didn’t deserve you, and you would rub circles on his back and kiss him slowly and tell him how much you love him until he felt better. Before, it was a cry for help, a way for him to tell you that he needed your reassurance. But this time, it was a statement, a demand.
“You— You don’t mean that,” you tried to rationalize what he was saying. But Simon was too good; he didn’t break. He shook his head and even though you saw tears run down his cheek he was still being so mean.
“I’m only going to hurt you,” he pushed, “You shouldn’t be with me.” The stitches in his side were hurting him.
He was hurting you, he was right about that. You wanted to let out the sobs that were rising powerfully in your throat, but unlike every time before where Simon would hold you and soothe you, he definitely wouldn’t this time. So you choked back the sobs in an attempt to look slightly composed.
“Are you… asking me or telling me?” You asked.
“You’ll move on,” he continued, as if you hadn’t said anything, “You’ll be okay.” You hated him for not being able to just say the words I’m breaking up with you. But you understood the message loud and clear.
“Simon—” you cried out, desperately, asking him for anything more to work with.
“I think I should take a walk, get some air,” he said quietly, getting up from the table.
“Please don’t do this,” you begged. “We can– We can talk about this more, a–and work something out!”
“I don’t want… I don’t want to raise my voice or yell, love. Please… just let me go.”
You let him walk out of the front door. You had to hold yourself back from shoving everything off of the table. You cried and sobbed into your hands and curled up into a ball. Everything had changed.
Then, just like he predicted, Task Force 141 called him back onto base two days later. He didn’t even say goodbye but you heard him trudging out the door with his military bags that morning. When you got out of bed, you saw he left an envelope of cash on the dining room table. ‘Please take care of yourself,’ he had written on the envelope. You’d wanted so badly to hate him, but you couldn’t.
———
“I love him, Johnny,” you replied simply. Soap looked at you, almost in disbelief, but after observing you and Ghost for the past couple of months, he fully believed you. You continued, “And that’s not to say that we’ve always acted this way. For the first year or so afterwards, it was dead silence. We were in different units anyways, and after we split up I wouldn’t have been able to even see his face. But then our units were combined and I just had to accept it. It was almost easy to pretend like nothing happened. I just focused on my work and if I needed to address him, I only called him ‘Lieutenant.’ I was able to push back my feelings for almost a year and a half. But then I found him one night in the common area some months ago. He always had trouble sleeping, and I just kind of stood next to him and leaned against him. I thought he would shove me away, but he didn’t. There was…some kind of understanding. We kind of just started acting like we were together again, like nothing ever happened. It felt right, it felt natural to slip back into old habits. You know Simon’s not a man of many words, and I’m too scared to ask him what he’s thinking. I’m scared of driving him away again. He’s here, he lets me care about him and for him, and that’s really all I could ask for.” Soap coughed to stop himself from saying Bullshite.
“Well why don’t ’cha then?” Soap inquired, “Ask him, I mean. Force ’im to actually communicate for once. You deserve to get some sort’a closure, sweetheart. Truly, I mean, when Price told us about how it went down, I thought’a comin’ back to base and beating the shite out of him for being such a bastard.”
You sighed. Soap was right—nothing would ever come of this unless you took the initiative.
“I mean… What the fuck am I supposed to say?” You asked, breathing out heavily.
“Tell ’im exactly what you’re thinkin, how you’re feelin,” Soap said simply. “Somethin’ tells me that he’s probably thinking the same exact thing you are, sweetheart.”
You smiled sadly, shaking your head and looking down at your feet. “I just… he just… didn’t want me anymore.”
“That’s what he told you,” Soap said, “Not necessarily what he really meant.”
“How do you know?”
“Jus’ do,” Soap smiled, “I promise ya that he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Price even said that you two already act like you’re married anyways.” You smiled halfheartedly.
“I doubt he wants that anymore,” you whispered, “I… I don’t even know…”
“It’s okay not to know everything right now,” Soap gave you an encouraging nod, “But if you still feel the same way about Ghost, and God knows he still feels the same way ’bout you, then what’s the harm in talkin’? It already looks like you’ve rekindled a lot, so if anythin’, you two only gotta make it official by putting your feelings out there. You’re allowed to ask for what you want.”
You nodded slowly, as if you were trying to convince yourself that it would work. Your mind flashed back to every fleeting moment you’d had with Simon since that one late night together, and you know, even if it’s hard to believe, that he still cares about you. Maybe he even still loves you. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked.
“Okay. I’ll talk to him, then,” you decided. Soap smiled.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.”
Soap broke out into a grin. “So… what does he look like?” You snorted and punched his arm.
———
Later that night, you snuck off into the dining area to get a glass of water. The barracks were practically dead silent, as most of the other men who came back shitfaced were soundly sleeping. As if, somehow, Simon had overheard your and Soap’s conversation earlier, you found him standing by an open window in the common area. Almost exactly like the night you fell back into his arms.
“Hi,” you whispered, standing right up next to him, your sides touching. You looked out into the night sky, too, at the stars he’d been staring at.
“Hey yourself,” Simon replied softly.
He had a thick, black sweater on, along with his normal work pants and boots. He was wearing an all black balaclava. You missed buying him new ones for his birthday; sometimes you would try to get him to wear a different colored one, and he would oblige once or twice because, well, it was you. You also missed being able to see the locks of dirty blonde hair that the balaclava covered. Sure, you’d seen him full-faced multiple times over the past months. It was one of the ways that you knew he still trusted you. Maybe he didn’t like you anymore, but he trusted you. Some nights, you let him into your room when he couldn’t sleep, and you barely had to exchange any words. You’d lift up your blanket and he’d crawl right next to you. You’d tug at the balaclava gently and he’d take it off himself, letting you wrap your arms around him and massage your fingers into his scalp. It helped him fall asleep without fail. It looked like tonight was another one of those nights.
“Can’t sleep?” You offered.
Simon shook his head, still looking out the window. “Negative.” You smiled. He was always so formal.
You both stood there in silence for a few minutes, the wind outside blowing fresh, cool air into the room. The proximity of your bodies made your face flush. Simon reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He opened it and held it out to you, first. You could almost cry. Simon, ever the sweet gentleman, despite the reputation he made for himself, or the way he was convinced he was as a person. You took a cigarette out and placed it between your lips. He leaned closer to you, partially shielding you from the breeze coming from the window as he lit your cigarette.
After you took a drag, you held it out to Simon. He looked at you, through you, for what felt like the longest split-second, before taking it in between his two fingers and taking a drag himself. He blew out the smoke towards the open window. You tried to get yourself preoccupied with the stars in the sky again. He passed the cigarette back to you.
“They know about us,” you finally said, looking straight ahead of you.
There was a beat, but he didn’t flinch or make a sound. He turned his head to look at you. “Who, Price?”
“Not just him. Everyone knows now. Soap was the last one to find out, tonight.”
“Fuckin’ Johnny…” Simon sighed, his eyes not leaving you. You had to muster up the courage to turn and look back. “You okay? Did he say anything to you?”
“He told me to… ask for what I want,” you spoke slowly. Simon’s gaze was intense but concerned. You put the cigarette out on the brick of the windowsill, hands trembling.
“And… what is it that you want?” He asked, suddenly and somehow much closer to you.
“I want… you.” You turned to face him, nervous to make eye contact.
Simon laughed softly. His hand grasped the side of your arm gently and trailed down to hold your hand. “You already have me, love.”
You swallowed hard and took a step back from him. Your hand dropping from Simon’s left his hand cold and his eyes darted around your face, trying desperately to read it. You shook your head. “No,” you said, “Not like this. I don’t want any more of this sneaking around. I don’t want you like this, like we’re just trying to forget everything that happened, everything that we’ve been through. I don’t want this in-between limbo shit where I don’t even know what you’re thinking! I want you, truly, fully, a hundred percent. Like… like we used to be.”
Simon winced and he was grateful most of his face was covered by the balaclava. He knew you weren’t spitting at him, but he knew that you were implying that he was the one to have ruined it all. He was the reason there was a way things used to be. He thought about it every day. How he was the one to pull back from you, under the guise of protecting you, but he knew even then that it was bullshit. He was scared of himself, of hurting you, of possibly being responsible for hurting you. And—
“Simon?”
Your gentle touch to his arm brought him out of his mind. He looked down at you, your eyes were shiny with tears but you gave him a sweet smile. It only broke him more. “Say something,” you pleaded softly.
“Fuckin’ hell… I– I’m so sorry for everything. I mean it.” His own eyes were now brimming with tears.
“I don’t want to lose you again. I have you back in my life again and I’m so grateful, but we’ve just been dancing around it for the past two years, and I can’t—”
“You have me, I promise,” Simon reassured you. “Look, I ran away from you, from us, because I was a coward and couldn’t deal with my own feelings. I feel like— I felt like I just hurt everyone around me. And I don’t want to hurt you, so I thought that’s what I was supposed to do but I was stupid.”
“I thought you… didn’t want me anymore,” you whispered to the ground. “You were shutting me out, Simon.”
“Fuck, every day I was without you, I regretted everything I did and said. I wish I could go back and change it, be a little braver and hold your hand a little tighter and tell you that we would get through it together. I… If I’m being honest, I felt so out of control after 141 rescued me. The torture and all of that shit made me feel like the most useless person on Earth and I felt embarrassed that you still wanted to be by my side afterwards. I almost died. That was the closest call I’ve ever had in my life and it was fuckin’ scary. And I just thought about when I came home and saw my mum and Tommy and… the reality set in that you could come home one day and I’d be dead and I’d have hurt you. And… in my mind, family is a curse. If you’re my family, you get hurt. By me, inevitably. If you’re tied to me, you get killed because I’m too useless to save you in time. And marriage would mean that you would be tied to me. And my mind just— I couldn’t do that to you. In the hospital I’d have nightmares that you were the one being tortured instead of me. I convinced myself that you needed to get away from me, far away. So I gritted my teeth and I was mean to you and I was so fuckin’ horrible and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. But I never… I never didn’t want you. I just thought… you’d be better off with someone else.”
You stared up into his eyes. His black eye paint was completely smudged by tears and he was almost trembling as you held his hands tightly.
“I’m not better off with someone else,” you shook your head. You leaned up and gently wiped away his tears with your pointer finger. The paint smudged onto you, and more of Simon’s skin was exposed to you. “I only want you. I want to be with you through everything, even the shit. I wanted to… after what happened… I wanted to help you. I wanted to be the one you could turn to. I don’t want to give up on this, on us.”
“I— I love you,” Simon whispered so softly, like if he said it too loud he would somehow ruin everything. “I never stopped.”
“I love you, too,” you broke into a smile, breathless, as he leaned down to bump his forehead against yours.
“Marry me.”
You almost choked. “Simon, come on, don’t be silly.”
“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Marry me. Like we always said we would. Before I was a fuckin’ bastard to you. You don’t have to answer now, but I promise, I’ll spend the rest of our lives makin’ it up to you. Please?”
You felt like you were going to cry, you were so overwhelmed. Your composure broke and you let out a laugh and then a cry, falling forward into Simon’s arms. He held you tightly, resting his head against yours. He rubbed circles on your back and you clung to him, as if you might lose him again in an instant.
“You’re okay, love,” he whispered, “I’m here. I’m not leaving you ever again.”
Simon brought two fingers to your chin, slowly tilting your head upwards, inches away from his. It was as if the world stopped. You’d kissed him before, since joining 141. One night when he was lying in bed next to you, and you were both on your sides, facing each other, you had slowly inched closer and closer until his slow breath was tickling your face. His eyes were closed but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You’d nuzzled your nose against his and his eyes fluttered open, a small smile spreading across his face looking at you. He’d leaned in slowly, brushing his lips against yours. Your lips had moved against his, slowly and sweetly. And when you pulled away, he had smiled and held you close until the two of you fell asleep.
You’ve kissed him many times, quiet and sweetly, but it was always cautious. You weren’t sure if you were crossing a boundary or setting yourself up. Now, as his fingers cupped your chin gently and you looked up at him, you felt nothing less than confident as you leaned up and tugged the balaclava up over his nose. He smiled and leaned down as you leaned up and your lips met his. You melted into him and his other hand held your waist. His hands were shaky; he was nervous he may break you with all the love he had for you.
Breathless, you pulled away, your foreheads still touching. Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck, toying at the back of the balaclava. Simon raised his eyebrow slightly, smiling down at you.
“My room?” You asked, a light playfulness in your tone.
For once, Simon felt like he could let out a sigh of relief. He had you back in his arms, a hundred percent this time. He held your hand, small in his, and squeezed. It would take work—every relationship does—but he was ready for it, the talking, the vulnerability, the opening back up, if it was you. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
“Yeah, love, your room,” he said lowly, “But not for sleepin’ this time, yeah?” He smirked and pinched your waist.
“Don’t get too cocky, Riley,” you cooed, yanking the balaclava back down over his chin, earning a laugh from him. You grabbed his hand and pulled him behind you.
Simon smiled. “Lead the way.”
906 notes · View notes
cherryslyce · 1 year
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Second Son (XIII) | Regulus Black
Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.
— Chapter Synopsis: Sixth year comes to a close. Y/N and Harry sport new badges of trauma. Fleur and Bill get married.
Part XII / Part XIV / Series Masterlist
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Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader
Notes: chapter wc: 6.3k. Enjoy. I really miss Regulus *cry*
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Time bears no meaning to one unseeing and unfeeling, one who endlessly sinks into a void. You’ve read the papers and the theories: an observer outside of a black hole would think that time has frozen, while those falling into the black hole would appear to be frozen to those watching. 
Perhaps, you were falling through a black hole. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been laying in the medical wing, eyes puffy, pillow damp with tears, but you can only pity whoever it was that sat with you the entire time. The first memory you could recall of waking up in the medical wing seemed so distant, but you knew it had likely only been a few days since then. 
Nothing seemed to register in your mind throughout those days, not that you cared all that much. You would simply peel your eyes open, silently shed tears, ignore whoever was whispering in your ear, ignore Madam Pomfrey’s fussing, go back to sleep, and repeat. 
Every time you awoke, you desperately hoped that the events that kept replaying in your head had been nothing but a terrible, prolonged nightmare. But the emptiness in your pocket weighed on your chest and hollowed out your heart. 
Every time you opened your eyes to see the familiar beige, arched ceilings and bright latticed windows, you wanted to sink through the bed and fall into an abyss that matched the chasm in your chest . 
Regulus’ voice kept ringing in your ears, making your head ache with sharp stabs behind your eyes, ‘I’ll find you again, my love.’ You wanted to laugh. His last words to you were futile promises, yet you still wanted nothing more than to believe them. 
You were positive that you would drive yourself into madness.
You decide to start listening to the voice that would always emit from beside you, half expecting it to be a figment of your imagination. Even so, you hoped that it could provide solace, if not a distraction from your mental spiral.
The more you listened, the more your senses began to clear – and you realized you couldn’t spend forever wallowing in your misery. Surprisingly, it was not just one person that visited you. From what you could discern, it was three different people that would seemingly take turns talking to you. 
“Mother and I are concerned for you, amico mio. Draco hasn’t been back since that night, same with Professor Snape. The term is going to end soon, and Aurors have been hassling Potter for answers. They’re leaving you alone for now because you’ve been unresponsive, but the press and Ministry are waiting for your eyewitness account. If you don’t get better soon…They want to send you to St.Mungo’s for monitoring, but mother volunteered to house you instead. I have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest well, Y/N.” 
Blaise.
It seemed that Dumbledore was dead then. There was no other reason why the Ministry would be so eager to question you. Two people died that night, three if you counted whatever part of yourself was missing now – but only Dumbledore would be memorialized. 
You felt your heart race at the thought, but you tried to ground yourself by remembering Blaise’s words. At least you knew that the Contessa was willing to take you in. The thought sent a warm buzz down your navel. You wouldn’t be alone. 
“It was Professor Snape. It all happened so fast. After he shot the spell and Dumbledore … Draco was going to stay with you, but then they shot off the dark mark into the sky. And Snape, he-he … he’s the Half-Blood Prince. He killed him. Dumbledore trusted him, and he killed him. I don’t know where the locket is either. To think of what it took – what it cost us, and I lost the bloody thing.” 
Harry. 
Even in your state, you could feel Harry’s turmoil – his rage. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reflect the same sentiments, things were always more convoluted than they seemed, especially for your lot. You did feel remorseful about the locket though, realizing the damn thing was still looped around your neck (even if it were a sham). 
You don’t know what exactly happened that night in the astronomy tower after you blacked out, just that Snape finished the job and escaped with the rest of the death eaters, but you assumed that Harry was secretly wounded by the professor’s betrayal. 
No matter how vehemently he denies it, you could tell Harry did care for Snape in his own weird, unconventional way. You shared a similar sentiment, feeling a tinge of understanding toward the disillusioned man. That was why you held onto hope that Snape was truly not a traitor, but only time would tell. 
You were taken aback to hear that Draco tried to stay with you, but perhaps your strange encounters with each other and your initiative to try and help him – even while he aimed his wand at you – made him feel indebted. 
“The wrackspurts are beginning to leave, they were hovering around you for a long time. You will be okay, he waits as he always has. You must not give up.” 
Luna.
Luna was a comforting presence. She never bombarded you or urged you to recover quicker, and oftentimes you could feel her gently playing with your hand. You always looked forward to hearing her the most. Her reassurances sparked hope in you, especially since you believed that she was clairvoyant. 
Things did get better, eventually. 
You awoke on the second to last day of term with aching joints and stiff muscles. The world seemed to gleam with a new vibrance under the July sky, and it helped that Blaise nearly tipped out of his seat when you abruptly sat up on the bed. 
“Is that any way to greet me, B? How uncouth.” Your scratchy voice did little to deter the boy who merely threw his arm over your shoulder. 
After a few moments of silent greetings, you pull back and pat the boy gently on the shoulder, wanting room to stretch your arms. 
Blaise moves over to sit at the foot of your bed, hands digging into his robes, “Glad to have you back. You gave me quite the fright, you know?” The boy shoots a pointed look at you, “I thought you were dead when I found you that night.” 
“So it was you?” Your words are more to yourself than anything, but the Italian nods firmly. 
“Mio dio, here we are.” The boy fishes something out of his pocket, and extends his palm towards you, “Thought you would want this.” 
Your heart stutters in your chest as you reach over. 
Regulus’ frame. 
“Thank you.” The lump in your throat makes it difficult to say much more, but the gratitude that bleeds into your words has Blaise tilting his head. Of course, your friend didn’t quite grasp how important the tattered pieces of wood were to you, but you were touched nonetheless. 
Thank Merlin for his scavenging tendencies. 
“Prego. Now, are you feeling well enough to get up? You should start packing soon.” 
“Nevermind, just kill me now.” Blaise, the traitor, laughs at your misery much to your chagrin. 
The last two days at Hogwarts are filled with suppressed grief and reassuring smiles, with many approaching you to make sure you didn’t sustain any permanent damage from the encounter with Bellatrix (you were quite sure Neville even promised retribution). 
You’re decidedly silent about the main events of being manhandled by Greyback, tired from the tirade of questions and also unsure if the prospect would have your friends flying off their handles.
As the Hogwarts Express came to a halt at King’s Cross, you dismissed yourself from the Trio’s compartment and levitated your items with you to locate Blaise. The slytherin was adamant that you say your farewells to him, already dissatisfied with your decision to stay elsewhere for the summer. 
Peering into one of the compartments, you catch Blaise’s eye and wave slowly. The boy stands and slides the door open for you, grinning at your unimpressed frown, “You made it!” 
“Yes, I didn’t want you to brood the entire summer. Merlin knows I barely agreed to have tea with you and the Contessa anyway.” Your indignant response elicits a few snickers from behind Blaise, and the Italian spins around with an expression of mock offense. 
“Traitors, all of you.” 
You peer over Blaise’s shoulder and meet the curious stares of some of the other slytherins in your year, though Draco was notably absent.
Pansy appraises you quickly before grinning, “Well met, L/N. Blaise said you were much better than your other friends.” 
You let out a dry laugh, but nod in greeting. Scanning the opposite bench, an exasperated set of eyes cuts through you. The boy inclines his head, causing you to do the same. You were already familiar with Theodore Nott, having quite literally clashed with him over the top position in your Runes class (which somehow led to you both studying together in silence?). 
“Y/N, any summer plans?” You lean against the doorframe and wave at Daphne, ignoring Blaise’s huff. 
“Hi Daphne, and just a few things here and there. Mainly just looking forward to spending time with my dogs.” Which was not totally a lie, both Remus and Sirius were part time dogs of sorts. 
Blaise crosses his arms and shakes his head, “Yes, a summer with some pets over one with me.” 
Continuing to ignore the boy next to you, you crack your knuckles and smile apologetically, “It’s nice to see you all. But apologies, I must get going, one of my dogs gets a bit restless.” You wave to the group and quickly pat Blaise on the back before quickly ducking out of the train. 
As you walk through the platform, you barely flinch when Harry sidles up to you with his own luggage. 
“Harry, come to Grimmauld Place after it’s all done.” The boy shifts his head to look at you, eyebrow raised to indicate that he would have done so even without the reminder. Rolling your eyes, you adjust the collar of your shirt before quickly pulling out the locket long enough for the boy to see. 
Harry’s mouth sets into a firm line and he nods, “Alright. It shouldn’t take more than a few days.” His firm tone indicated that he expected an explanation from you, but you could see that he was refraining from being too direct, having already expressed guilt for what happened to Regulus. 
Harry and Hermione informed you that they would be taking certain measures to protect their respective families, and you winced at the implications – more so feeling commiseration for Hermione than Harry, knowing that the girl’s parents actually valued her. 
As Sirius and Remus come into view – Sirius in his Grim form, Harry rushes away and lunges into Remus’ awaiting arms. Sirius trots over to you in greeting and you have to restrain yourself from petting him, knowing it would be awkward to face the man after he transforms back. 
Crouching down, you smile at the dog-man and barely duck fast enough to miss his attempt at licking you. It would appear that he was forgoing formalities and was jumping straight into licking and pawing at you and Harry – you admit, that it made his disguise all the more convincing. 
“Okay, enough you old menace!” You bat at him, causing him to huff at you, still rounding around you to nudge at your leg. 
Harry reluctantly leaves as he spots his Uncle Vernon, reaching down to squeeze your wrist in comfort one last time. As soon as you double-check your items and greet Remus, you all are off in a hurry to get to Grimmauld Place, not feeling comfortable being out in the open for a prolonged period of time. 
The journey back is spent in silence as you pointedly ignore Sirius’ looks of concern and Remus’ more subtle glances. 
The first few days back at the gloomy house are interesting to say the least. Both of the adults were almost diffident towards you, clearly unsure of how to breach the subject of their concerns without immediately spiraling into an interrogation. 
You try and wait it out the first few days, and soon Harry is joining you with a pleased smile, regaling you with how Dudley had made amends with him before the Dursleys all packed up and left. Despite Harry’s arrival, Sirius and Remus continued to edge around you both much to Harry’s confusion. 
The awkward atmosphere gives you and Harry time to convene in your room, both sitting around the decoy locket. As you peer down onto your bed at the glimmering piece of jewelry, you feel your lips twist in forbearance. 
Harry scoops it up and examines it in the light before sighing, “Yeah. This isn’t the real thing, I would be able to feel it if it were.” Narrowing his eyes further, he tugs at the locket’s sides and pulls. 
The locket abruptly pops open and you and Harry share a look that pretty much conveyed the ‘shit that actually worked’ thought that flew through both of your heads. 
You’d think there would be more security measures even with a sham. 
Placing it back down onto the bed, you tilt your head at the slip of paper that revealed itself inside. Harry slowly picks it up and unfurls it, frowning at the contents, 
“To the Dark Lord, 
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. 
R.A.B” 
“Regulus,” Your gasp is followed by a devastating realization that has you shuddering. Harry looks up at you with a worried frown, patting your knee before handing the paper to you. As you gently cup the paper in your hands, you reread the message several times. 
“He died to try and stop him.” Harry’s words are not a question, but rather a declaration of crushing recognition. He looks over to your hunched figure and cups his hand around yours, nodding firmly, “Keep it.” 
Not bothering to retort that you were planning on doing so even if you had to wrangle it from him, you simply nod and carefully fold the note up and place it back inside the locket. As you carefully click the pendant shut and move the necklace back over your head, Harry turns towards the empty space near your door, “Kreacher!” 
A loud pop emits throughout the room and you slowly turn to face the house elf, “Yes, Master Harry called for Kreacher?” 
Harry swallows harshly, “Did Regulus ever talk about a locket that belonged to Voldemort?” 
Kreacher flinches back and alternates between sneering at Harry and frowning at you, “Kreacher doesn’t know anything about a locket.” 
You rise up from the bed and slowly walk towards the cowering house elf, squatting down to appear less intimidating, “Kreacher. Regulus, he…he wanted–wants us to destroy it. Please.” You hoped that Kreacher didn’t register your slip up, not wanting to explain that his favorite master was blown to bits by an insane witch. 
Seeming to weigh his options, Kreacher darts his eyes around the floor before meeting your gaze, “Kreacher will find it.” Not a moment later, the elf pops away and you’re left with your thoughts and achy knees. 
As you stretch back up, Harry shoots you a grateful look before sighing, “We should talk to Sirius about the locket at the very least. Maybe he’ll let us look around and we can figure out what else Regulus knew.” 
You don’t have a chance to answer as Kreacher pops back into the room, hands clasped tightly around the real locket, extending his hand away from his face to keep the artifact as far away from him as possible. 
“Thank you, Kreacher.” The elf merely grunts at Harry’s words and practically shoves the locket into his hands when the boy gets close enough to reach it. 
You nod and smile at the elf, feeling a twinge of guilt when he pops away without another word. It seemed that Kreacher had an idea of what happened to Regulus, and he was definitely not happy with you and Harry by any stretch of the imagination. 
Harry fiddles with the item before huffing, “Hello again, Tom.” 
Rubbing your forehead tiredly, you leave your friend to his musings and opt to find Sirius, deciding to rip the bandaid off sooner than later. 
Surprisingly, the man barely bats an eye at your bizarre request, “Sure, go ahead. I don’t think you’ll find much more than old books though.” 
Nodding with wide eyes, you try to rein in your gobsmacked expression, “Uh–yeah, thanks,” and with one last boost of confidence, you decide to pat the man’s shoulder, “And really, thanks for the concern. Harry and I are fine though, so you guys don’t have to keep walking around eggshells when we’re in the same room.” 
Not giving time for the man to respond, you practically fly up the stairs and towards Regulus’ bedroom. Hit with a sense of deja vu, you only pause to take everything in once you crack open the bedroom door. 
So many memories. 
But he’s not here anymore.
Ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest, you slowly shuffle into the dark room and shut the door behind you. Spinning around on the spot, you take in every detail around you, determined to commit it to memory – for what reason, you didn’t really know. You wander around in circles for a while, slowly working up the courage to actually look around for something useful. 
It felt wrong to go through his possessions without his knowledge or expressed permission. 
Crouching down next to the dusty bed, you trace your finger around the design of the bedding. 
The design scheme of Regulus’ room was far more subdued in comparison to the rest of the house’s gaudy antiques and brassy accents, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he would have decorated a house of his own.
Brushing away the thought, you pause your movements when your finger hits a protrusion under the mattress. Furrowing your eyebrows, you slowly lift up the quilt bedding.
Please be spider-free. If a spider lunges at me, I will actually die. 
Your prayers are, thankfully, taken into account. As you peer at the object, you realize that it was a worn leather journal shoved haphazardly between the two mattresses – how neat. You wrestle the book out with far more effort than it should have taken, and breathlessly sit down on the floor. 
Flipping the object in your hands, you run your finger along the creased cover. 
Just as you lay the book in your lap to flip it open, you’re distracted by the sound of the door creaking open. Harry slowly slinks inside the room and shoots you a quick smile, “Sirius is being weird. Like strange. Something about therapy and teenagers?” You merely raise your eyebrow as Harry moves to sit beside you, the boy’s eyes immediately falling to your lap, “What’s that?” 
“No clue. What about the locket? Figured out how we’re going to destroy it?” 
Harry rolls his eyes before fishing out the necklace and dangling it from his hand like it wasn’t a precious heirloom (even if it were tainted by a sadistic, egomaniac’s soul shard). 
“No clue,” Harry intones, laughing at your narrowed eyes. You roll your eyes before shoving him lightly, deciding to tuck the journal away by your side before getting up to wander around the room again. 
Your search around Regulus’ room continues for the next few days, but ends up fruitless. 
July passed quickly, taking the sunny days away with it. The journal that you found was shrunken and bouncing around in your pocket, remaining untouched. You couldn’t explain it, but it didn’t feel right to read it just yet. 
Was Luna’s clairvoyance rubbing off on you? 
The thought had you smiling softly, causing Remus to share a look with Sirius that you barely caught. 
“You doing okay there, pup?” Sirius asked, reaching over to pat your arm. 
“Never better, old man. Also, pup?” Your question hangs in the air and Remus merely shakes his head before craning back down to read his book. Sirius smiles brightly at you, “Yep.” 
“Never a dull moment around here. Forget my Runes study, maybe I should become a mind healer and have you as my case study.” You tease, much to Harry and Remus’ amusement.
You wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but you had sorely missed the comfort of summers with Sirius. 
Actually, you wanted to rescind that statement. 
“You absolute troll of a man!” Your words echo throughout the house as Sirius’ laughter draws the attention of the other two men. 
Remus shoots Sirius an exasperated look, while Harry spins around in his seat to try and see what was happening. You emerge into the room, heaving from anger, hand clasped tightly around a soggy potions book. 
“I am going to wreak havoc upon your bloodline, Black! Beg now or wrath shall hath no mercy for your foolishness.” Your wild gesticulation and fury has Remus raising an eyebrow towards Sirius who simply shoots his friend an innocent smile. 
The absolute oaf then turns and sticks his tongue out at you. 
“Do it! I dare you! You wouldn’t–” 
You throw the wet tome at his head. 
“Remmy! Look what’s become of my beautiful face!” Sirius whines and bangs his elbows on the table, drawing the attention of one stressed out Mrs.Weasley. The woman shoots a withering look at the man before returning to fuss over a particularly wild table arrangement. 
Remus simply shakes his head and resumes surveying the venue, studiously ignoring the man next to him (who was now sporting a large bump on his head that he refused to heal in order to show everyone the result of your “demonic mood swings”). 
You smile tauntingly at the older man before standing up to walk around. It was insane to you how drastically different you were feeling now in comparison to at the beginning of your summer break. The aching in your heart never fully ceased, but you were back up on your feet and even allowing yourself to indulge in Sirius’ antics. 
The world truly was coming to an end, wasn’t it? 
Guiltily, you found yourself remedying your heart ache by sneaking into Regulus’ bedroom at night. It inexplicably brought you closure to see what was left of the teen’s bedroom. 
August emerged from the corners of the sky with temperamental winds and blue, misty dawns. Bill and Fleur had decided to commence the month with a rather extravagant wedding, having sent out your personal invites weeks before. The venue was at the Burrow, but was simply breathtaking: the ivory tent was propped up by poles that were encircled with plethoras of cream flowers, and the dainty chairs lined with gold were eye-catching without being tawdry. 
Gold. 
You wince as you reach into your jacket, feeling the scraps of Regulus’ gold frame brush against your fingertips. 
It seemed you weren’t the only one plagued with grief and foreboding though. Many were expecting for Voldemort to make his next move any day now, which was one of the many reasons as to why Bill and Fleur decided to rush their union. 
The political climate was tense as well, wracked with uncertainties after the death of Dumbledore. Ex-Auror, now instated Minister of Magic, Scrimegeour was trying his best, but he was rough around the edges and had the charisma of an angry goblin. 
Still, you were one of the many who preferred him over Fudge. 
In light of all this, you made a greater effort to get to know Contessa Zabini, knowing that your channels for information were more restricted than ever, and who better to turn to than an all-powerful, neutral femme fatale? 
Corresponding with Blaise and Luna kept you sane throughout the summer since you refrained from trauma dumping on Harry (á la therapy, knowing the boy was literally the embodiment of “what are you talking about? I’m perfectly fine”).  
“Hey, pup.” You spin around to see Sirius approaching you with his hands in his pockets, mouth curled up amiably. 
Suspiciously raising a brow, you cross your arms, “If you pull something on me right now, Bill is going to be left wondering why there’s an empty chair at our table. Spoiler alert, your chair, not mine.” 
The man chuckles at your playful (kind of) threat, and simply hands you a folded paper, “Thought you’d want it. Still not sorry about your book though.” 
Shaking your head, you gently grasp the slip and raise your eyes in uncertainty when you realize it was a folded photo. Sirius gestures for you to unfold it, eyes gleaming brightly with a shine you could hardly decipher. 
As you bring the photo up towards your eyes, you gape as you realize what you were looking at. 
“Sirius, what?--” Why was he giving you a photo of Regulus? What did he know?
“I don’t know what’s up with you and Prongslet and your fascination with Regulus, but I’m not completely oblivious.” He jabs, smiling widely at your disbelief. 
Debatable, really. 
You sigh and hug the photo to your chest, “I promise, I’ll tell you everything when this all blows over. Thank you though.” 
The man shrugs and gives you a brief side hug, “I’ll take your word for it.” 
As soon as you see his mischievous smile disappear behind the milling Weasley family, you decide to study the photo again. 
Regulus looked a bit younger than he had in his portrait, hair a tad shorter and eyes sparkling with a youthful glow. Clearly, Regulus hadn’t been marked when this photo was taken, but he still looked like a dutiful, proper pureblood heir. 
He looked perfect. 
You were going to rip Bellatrix to shreds.
Yes. You would have the banshee screeching at your feet, begging for the release of death. 
Sorry Neville, she’s mine to kill.
“Heya-” 
“Y/N!” 
You quickly fold up the photo and tuck it into your pocket, shooting your head up to meet the eyes of the twins. Smiling at their antics, you tip an invisible hat to them, “Messrs Twins, how are you today? Excited to see Bill in his suit?”
George offers you his arm as he gestures outside of the tent, “Doing just dandy, Y/N!” 
“Yes, Bill was able to weasel his way out of mother’s claws,” Seeing your confused expression, Fred continues, “She wanted him to wear father’s wedding robes.” 
Snickering at the idea, you allow George to continue dragging you, “How frightful. You both might not be as lucky though. Merlin knows Charlie’s muscles would suffocate in those robes, you two on the other hand…” 
“Ouch!” 
“My poor heart!” 
Your banter continues until the twins manage to parade you through the Burrow’s living room, dropping you off with mock bows, “It’s been our pleasure!” 
As soon as they’re off and running to Merlin knows where, you turn around to meet the unimpressed face of Minister Scrimgeour. Harry, Hermione, and Ron emerge from the kitchen and meet your questioning eyes, looking just as puzzled by his appearance. 
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?” Harry asks, ever the diplomat. 
You smile wearily, shifting closer to your friends, “Yes, don’t suppose you’re here for the treacle tarts?” 
The scraggy man shakes his firmly, mouth deepening in its frown, “Unfortunately not. I think we both know the answer to your question though, Mr.Potter.”
Clenching your jaw, you make way to sit on the couch, gesturing for the Minister to sit across the coffee table. Your friends quickly follow your movements, fidgeting quietly as the man limps over and settles down with a huff. 
He wastes no time and sets down a folded cloth on the table, leaning on his knees to meet your awaiting gazes. Before any of you have time to question him, he reaches deep into his coat and whips out a folded piece of paper. 
The yellowed parchment floats to the side and unfolds itself as Scrimegeour shoots you all an assured look before reading off of it, “Herein is set forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore-” Holy shit, “-First, Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my deluminator…” 
You zone out, only vaguely aware of how Scrimgeour reaches down to unwrap the cloth. Harry shifts uncomfortably beside you and you’re quick to pick up on his grief. He was still in the process of accepting the headmaster’s death. 
Frankly, you were amazed you were left in the will. 
Hermione receives a children’s book (not cryptic at all). 
Harry receives the snitch he caught in your first year, which was quite unexpected seeing as your friend was pretty much carrying the weight of the Wizarding World on his back. It seemed that he thought the same as he reluctantly reached over to accept it, rolling the golden ball around his palm. 
A snitch, really? Couldn’t he have left a detailed instruction manual on how to slay Voldemort? Not like your lot isn’t elbow-deep in resuscitating Wizarding Britain or anything.  
Your attention is drawn away from Harry’s despondent face when a paper is being shoved towards you. 
What was this, the second time today?
Masking your bemusement, you reach over and take it from the man’s hand, quickly glancing at your friends. 
‘There is a wonderful municipality in Moskenesøya, Norway called Reine. Anders Fiske owes me a meal of which I pass to you. You may find great enlightenment on your troubles with him. He has knowledge of magic which your young companion utilized.’ 
Slowly looking up at the other occupants of the room, you don’t let your surprise show. 
“Well?” Ron asks impatiently, clearly intrigued that Dumbledore left you an actual written message. 
“A meal. He left me a meal ticket.” 
Minister Scrimgeour leaves shortly after, mumbling something about endless paperwork and efforts to suppress the growing dark forces. You were quick to part from your friends, falling into thought about how you were going to heed your former headmaster’s words. 
As you mill around the tent, eyes glued to the purple carpet under your feet, you’re pleasantly surprised when you accidentally bump into a familiar face. 
“Luna!” 
The girl spins around and looks at you dazedly, mouth tugging into a wide grin, “Y/N! The heliopaths burn brightly around you. Have you gotten the clue, then?” 
Gazing fondly at the younger girl, you wrap an arm around her and guide her near a vacant table, “I’m not even surprised. Did you see this coming?” 
“There were whispers that Dumbledore would aid you. Our paths are now converging…” Luna trails off, but you understand the gist of her words. It would appear that she was going to help you in some way, and you were quite pleased with the turn of events. 
Soon, dusk blanketed over the fields and the inky skies loomed over the tent, giving life to the vibrant lights and the guests who were resplendent in their formal attires. 
Sheer curtains fell around the tent in waves of dusty purple, slightly veiling the patrolling Aurors from sight. Sirius had to be put under multiple glamours much to his ire, but he conceded after being told it was either that or partying as a dog the whole night. 
The man was currently nestling a glass of firewhiskey to his chest by your side, occasionally glancing at Luna who was spinning in circles on your other side. Remus had decided to help patrol, and you rolled your eyes at his wallflower tendencies, picking up the unspoken “babysitting Sirius” duties in his stead. 
Bill and Fleur were dancing around at the center of the tent, surrounded by their immediate families and you were entranced by the dozens of pink butterflies that encircled the couple. 
How were they doing that?
Well, they did make for quite the attractive pair, and you were just grateful for the lack of drama throughout the evening. Though, you would be making a grand escape at the first hint of drunken stupors and incoherent babbling. 
Turning to the entrance of the tent, you smile softly as you see Harry make his way inside, slowly approaching an older man who was peering at the clapping guests with poorly concealed anxiety. 
Before you can further goggle at the boy’s movements, a sheen of yellow hues suddenly bombards your eyes and casts a shadow over your figure. Looking up, you’re struck at the sight of a familiar dazed expression. 
“Hello, Xenophilius Lovegood,” The man sticks out his hand for you to take, and you see Luna sway happily towards the man, “A pleasure, Mr.Lovegood. I’ve always enjoyed meeting my friends’ families. I’m Y/N.” 
“My Luna speaks very highly of you, and if you or Mr.Potter ever need anything, feel free to come to us. We live just over the hill, you see.” The man muses pleasantly, wrapping an arm around his daughter as she nods in agreement. 
You speak to the man for a few more minutes before he dismisses himself to find Harry, explaining that he would very much enjoy talking about The Quibbler with the boy. 
At the man’s departure, you begin to try and drag Sirius onto the dance floor, but he simply complains that the music wasn’t really his style and chugs his drink. 
There did seem to be a lack of electric guitar riffs in the air. 
Rings of gasps and shuffles draw your attention away from your two companions, and you look towards the center of the tent to see an illumination of blue floating in place of the once dancing couple. 
A patronus. 
Immediately, Shacklebolt’s resounding voice echoes around the venue, “The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead…they are coming…” Scrimgeour was dead? You just saw the bloody man!
“They are coming…” 
The tense silence has you stepping forward and drawing your wand, sharing a look with an alarmed Sirius who was slowly edging in front of you. 
“They are coming…”
As the patronus dissipates, the panic that had been stewing erupts into cacophonous shouts and echoing distortions of apparition. Many guests flee just as the first cluster of black smoke swoops through the tent. 
Death eaters. 
Grabbing Sirius’ wrist, you quickly try to shout over the chaos, “Stay safe! You and Remus better not die!” 
The man nods firmly, but gets pulled away into the moving crowd as people begin to make a break for it just as the first spells start flying around. Twirling your wand into your palm, you turn and grab Luna’s hand, pulling her behind you as you duck through the mayhem.
You see rays of green soar across the tent as flames begin to engulf the flowers and curtains. Blocking a killing curse from flying straight into your face, you quickly shoot out a Confringo and a binding spell back to back, effectively binding your attacker as he tries to duck. 
Spinning around frantically, ignoring the blood rushing through your ears and the thrumming of your heart beat in your fingertips, you see Hermione apparate with Ron and Harry. Sighing in relief at the trio’s escape, you quickly continue to push through the pandemonium. 
As Remus turns his back, you see a death eater try and shoot a killing curse at him causing you to nearly fly forward on the spot. 
“Expulso!” The lamps by the death eater’s head explodes in a spray of glass, causing him to hunch over long enough for Sirius to fire off an array of hexes that had you raising your eyebrows. 
Good to know that even Azkaban couldn’t erode his dueling skills. 
Satisfied with your cathartic release, you apparate away with Luna to the first place that pops into your head. 
As you touch down on damp cobblestone, you quickly spin around to assess Luna for injuries. The girl merely smiles at you reassuringly before gazing around at your surroundings. Luckily, it seemed that this section of Diagon Alley was safe from death eaters for now, but with the fall of the Ministry, it would only be a matter of hours before chaos would erupt. 
You cringe at the thought, knowing that many of the shops were still recovering from the previous year when Ollivander’s was ransacked and when Fortescue was killed by death eaters. 
Slowly creeping out from the dark alley you were both in, you assess the environment quickly. There were a few wizards still walking about, but for the most part, it was quiet and safe. 
Waving for Luna to follow, you both begin to stroll down the stone path, no real destination in mind. 
“Bedda Matri! What are you doing?” You whip around with your wand pointed towards the voice, only lowering it once you see an annoyingly familiar face, “And what are you wearing?”
“Nice to see you too, B. We were at a wedding for your information. I would have taken you as my plus one, but then I remembered how insufferable you are.” 
Your shoulders slacken in relief and you quickly trail over to your smirking friend. 
The boy goes to retaliate, but is interrupted by a dulcet voice, “Mio figlio, aren’t you going to introduce me?” 
Pausing at the honeyed voice, you slowly crane your head to the shadows to meet a pair of amused eyes. 
Blaise seems to flounder a bit before quickly composing himself, “Mama, this is Y/N L/N, my good friend,” he then turns towards your flustered gape and coughs lightly, “Y/N, this is my mother.” 
You collect yourself and straighten up your posture, inclining your head towards the imposing woman, “Contessa Zabini.” 
“How fortunate.” She drawls, slowly approaching your stiff figure, “We finally meet young Y/N, though the night is not kind. Come, let’s have tea together, we have much to discuss.” 
Perhaps you should have tested your luck with the death eaters. 
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moviecritc · 7 days
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ollie bearman x reader at graduation plss
pink bouquet ⋆ ollie bearman
pairing: ollie bearman x reader (fc: avantika)
summary: you thought your boyfriend couldn't make it to your graduation, but turns out he and your mum were plotting something
word count: 1K
warnings: mixed smau and writing
a/n: i made some things up about ollie's education for the sake of the plot
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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Y/N wasn't even sure how she had managed it, but she had graduated. Her time at secondary school had been rather confusing and tough, balancing classes with karting competitions and training sessions was no easy task, and even there were several times she thought she wouldn't make it.
But now secondary school was over and she could dedicate herself entirely to her career in motorsport. The future looked really bright for her, with several championships won, sponsors, and her pretty boyfriend who hadn't been able to make it to her graduation. Although the latter wasn't entirely bright.
Ollie and she had met at that same secondary school two years earlier. They had to do a project together and, eventually, they ended up meeting on the karting tracks, so what started as a simple friendship unfolded into a lovely relationship.
They spent a lot of time together, studying and attending each other's races. Ollie was much more advanced in the sport than she was, practically having his path to F2 carved out, and that also took a lot of his study time so usually, he performed worse in subjects than she did. So in mid-March of that year, he dropped out of school.
This made the relationship between Ollie and Y/N a bit complicated, but surprisingly they overcame the distance in a great way. He went to London whenever he could, and she accompanied him to races as they used to do before. They even managed to go to the prom together and have a lovely evening.
Y/N was aware of the fame her boyfriend had gained in a short time and he had thought it best to keep their relationship private from the media. Y/N didn't mind this part too much, but it was impossible not to think that Ollie hadn't come to see her at her graduation because there would be quite a few people taking photos.
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Y/N emerged from her room wearing the pink dress she and Ollie had picked out for graduation. He had himself told her it looked so good on her that he didn't know if he'd kill or die for that dress.
She descended the stairs, finding her mother and brother eagerly awaiting her exit. "Oh my goodness, Y/N," her mother said, heading towards her the moment she saw her. "You look beautiful." Her mother glanced at her brother sternly, encouraging him to say something.
"Yeah, you look alright," he spoke, lips pressed together.
YN rolled her eyes and hugged her mother. Her phone rang, and she hurried to see who it was, which left Y/N feeling quite puzzled, especially seeing her mother's wide smile.
"Let's take a picture," her mother nodded, under her brother's grimace.
The two posed with weak smiles because Y/N looked amazing, while her brother remained in his pyjamas. Although it was Y/N who had the weakest smile; she had been feeling her boyfriend's absence all morning.
Ollie had been there for many of her most special moments; when she won her first karting championship, when she got her driver's license, when she passed that subject that had been so difficult for her… His absence at her graduation felt wrong.
Someone rang the doorbell at that exact moment. Y/N frowned and looked at her mother and then her brother, wondering who was missing.
"Why don't you open it, darling?" her mother commented from the kitchen, hiding her excited smile.
YN knew something was about to happen because even her brother sat on the sofa, waiting for her to open the door.
Upon opening it, she was met with a bouquet of tulips larger than her upper body. She gasped, bringing her hands to her face. Then a little head peeked out from the top of the bouquet. "Hi,"
YN stifled a scream, which turned into a giggle, and went into the arms of her boyfriend, who lifted her slightly off the ground as he kissed her, not caring that his face got smeared with her red lipstick. YN took the bouquet, still speechless. They closed the door behind them, and she pointed at her mother instantly.
"You knew,"
"Well, of course," her mother said, with a proud smile.
YN let out a laugh of complete happiness; she was smiling so much that her cheeks started to hurt.
"It was Ollie's idea," her brother pointed out.
"You knew too?"
Everyone laughed, and then her mother and brother left them alone for a few moments so they could talk quietly. They kissed a couple more times until Ollie asked her, "You didn't know?"
YN smiled slightly. "I found out a couple of days ago; my mother isn't very discreet with her calls," Ollie laughed, resting his head on YN's shoulder. "But I'm thrilled you're here,"
"And I am too," he raised his gaze instantly. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
YN pursed her lips slightly. "For a moment, I thought you wouldn't come. Because of all the photos and stuff,"
Ollie pulled away from her a bit, frowning.
"Why would I care about that?"
"You know, because of the private relationship thing," YN nervously bit her lip.
Ollie smiled softly, and kissed her gently on the nose. "I only told you that because at races, it's not cool to have cameras everywhere trying to take pictures of you. Some drivers told me it was a good idea,"
"Ollie, I don't care about that. I just want to show off my boyfriend at my graduation," she shrugged, cradling Ollie's face in her hands.
"I love that," Ollie pulled her back towards him, kissing her for a few seconds.
"Also, with all that fame you say you have, you could make me some promotion,"
"You cheeky…"
YN cut him off with a kiss. "I love you,"
"I love you more, baby,"
olliebearman just posted a story!
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[caption: the only driver out there with gcse's]
yourusername just posted!
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liked by olliebearman, yourbff and 1834 others
yourusername when the dress match the flowers>>>
tagged olliebearman
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yourbff face card never declines
user1 oh to be ollie
yourfriend ready for saltburn summerrr 🥵
yourusername i have to train 😔 yourfriend booo
user2 she's in motorsport too!!
user3 power couple
olliebearman stunning as always 🌷👑
yourusername you too babyy 💗💗 user4 they're so cute I CAN'TTT
user5 wait so if they're both in motorsports, who's the wag?
yourusername ollie obviously user6 she's so sweet it hurts
user7 i heard that they've dating for two years?? like how we didn't know??
user8 they gonna be highschool sweethearts.
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Text
1989 - The story of two muses
Back to my first and forever love – Lyric analysis!
1989 is very close to my heart, and I have always found it noticeable that this album has quite a contrast between love songs about a very up and down/anxiety filled relationship on one hand, and the very raw and heartfelt romance as portrayed in ‘This Love’ and YAIL on the other.
And the 5 new vault songs we have on Taylor’s version now have added quite a bit of detail to the picture that emerges and I’m more convinced than ever that there are two distinct relationships/muses being described and I fancied doing a deep dive into how each one is described in the music and how the themes connect to other songs. (And it may even explain the beach theme 😉)
Ok, so, I have actually sorted every song from 1989 that is about a romantic relationship, including the 5 new vault tracks, into this scheme (even though I found some really hard!)
Muse 1 – “The heartbreaker” This relationship is described as very up and down, very anxiety-driven, something you can’t walk away from like an addiction, “against your better knowledge but can’t help myself” kind of way. Taylor has described this person as ‘the one that might one day interrupt your wedding, because you’re never truly over’.  Break up: ‘you left me’.
Muse 2 – “The one that came back” While this relationship is by no means described as perfect, it has a very different tone to it. It’s very much based in secure feelings, ‘us against the world’, any difficulty faced is worth it. Break up: ‘had to let it go’. And the person came back when it counted.
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(Sorry about the pictures, I couldn't fit a table in any other way)
I am really impressed with how much just five new songs have furthered the story of these two relationships and I (personally) love how much this is filling in the blanks and makes everything make so much more sense. 'You can hear it in the silence' vs 'Now your silence has me screaming' almost killed me, honestly. She really found the love that needs no words. 🥰 And the direct contrast of the metaphors, one relationship as an addiction with very high highs and very low lows, and the other as the calm waves on the shore that continually come in and out with the tide, is just so masterfully done, I love it. And I think given the beach theme of the 1989 TV covers, we can guess which of the muses is being honoured in this re-branding.
Lyrical connections to later albums
Perhaps not surprisingly, these two muses and their lyrical themes show up again in Taylor’s music in later albums. The connection I’ve already seen a lot of people make is the playing cards reference from Say Don’t Go (‘I’m trying to see the cards that you won’t show’) linking to Cornelia Street (‘back when we were card sharks, playing games’). And I love how this tells the story of someone whose previous relationship impacts how they react in a new relationship. Because the person in Say Don’t Go really did lead her on and played her and then left, whereas the Cornelia Street muse didn’t but Taylor thought as much based on her previous experience (‘I THOUGHT you were leading me on…but then you called, showed your hand…’).
Another parallel to Lover songs is the ‘light in the dark’ theme that starts in This Love with “lantern burning/ flickered in my mind for only you”, which feels very similar to “chandelier still flickering here” from Death by A Thousand Cuts. This relationship/lover is the light that perseveres in the dark, even if it’s just flickering, it never goes out. It lights up the darkness (‘glowing in the dark’), whereas the other relationship is a “shot in the darkest dark”. We obviously get a whole lot more songs in later albums that reference love as light in the darkness, most prominently in Daylight, the Lover album closer. But more subtly, I also think that “Takin’ your time in the tangerine neon light” from Slut, and “hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine” from Cruel Summer follow that same pattern. Something that illuminates the darkness. And just btw, Slut and Cruel Summer give me a very similar vibe in terms of different takes on the same situation…anyone else get that? But one last, maybe more subjective, connection is the line “I’ll pay the price, you won’t”. Which everyone immediately took as a comment on double standards between men and women, but I think it could also be interpreted to mean ‘I’ll happily pay the price and take the hit, so you don’t have to’, if you interpret the song to be about dating a man in public to keep a female partner out of the public eye.  With that in mind, the line becomes very reminiscent of ‘I can never give you peace’ from folklore, both expressing that Taylor wants to shield her lover from the media scrutiny that comes with dating her.  
Suburban Legends alone has so many links to later songs that I had to give it its own paragraph. The chorus ‘I didn’t come here to make friends’ is so ‘I don’t want you like a best friend’ coded, and ‘We were born to be suburban legends’ gives me big reputation/big conversation vibes. Other people have already pointed out that ‘flushed with the currency of cool’ draws links to Gold Rush and Gorgeous (‘You’re so cool it makes me hate you so much’) and ‘so magnetic it’s almost obnoxious’ is very similar to ‘magnetic force of a man’ from Lover. All painting the picture of a person who is so cool and alluring that they feel almost unattainable. The whole premise of the song being that the narrator didn’t come to make friends, but instead is on a mission to get what they want, feels very Mastermind to me. The background music over the outro confirms that, as it’s the same production as Mastermind (I call it ‘game show music’ 😊) and the lyrics saying that the muse now doesn’t knock anymore, suggests to me that maybe the masterplan has worked. Lastly, the conclusion of the song being ‘my life is ruined/I always knew it’ is a different way of saying I’ll happily ruin myself for you, as in ���for you I’d ruin myself a million little times’ from Illicit Affairs.
We don’t get nearly as many references to the first muse’s themes in later music, but ‘fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole” from Long Story Short is a nice drawback to the wonderland theme. Bottom line though, ‘It was the wrong guy…’.
And there we have it, the story of the two muses of 1989. If anybody here is even remotely as excited by lyrical analysis as I am, this one is for you, and feel free to have a friendly chat in the comments if I’ve missed anything!
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