#this kinda took all the mental juice I had
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Having Dessert First
Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller
Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, yeah this is smut and sex, sex on a desk, p in v, unprotected sex, public sex, dirty talk, brief spanking, swear words, Joel being a tease
Summary: Ellie comes knocking on the door, but Joel currently has you on top of a desk, and he doesn’t plan on stopping
Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks
"Joel."
Both of you turned your heads towards the door as he slowed down his thrusting. Your back against the desk with your legs in the air his hands gripping your ankles keeping them bent, but spread apart.
"Yeah Ellie?" He asked calmly while he continued to drive himself into you at a slower pace his eyes returning to your bouncing breasts.
Even though she was just on the other side of the door you knew he wasn't going to stop. Both of you already in too deep there was no stopping either of you. Even if she walked in through the door.
"Your brother wants to know if you’ll be coming to dinner?" She sounded confused to why Joel wouldn't open the door to talk to him. "Joeeeel?"
Joel had been reunited with his brother just yesterday thinking he was dead. Meeting Tommy you realized how different the two of them were. Of course both of them were excited to see the other. You and Joel haven’t had a moment to yourselves, and you took the opportunity when it came.
"I don't know I'm kinda busy right now." Sharply thrusting his hips angling his cock to hit your sweet spot then staying there for a brief moment.
Your hand going to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Shutting your eyes tight as you concentrated on trying to slow your breathing. Joel restraining himself from just pounding into your figure.
"He kinda wants to know now." She pushed making him groan in frustration.
Whimpering to Joel to not stop feeling yourself about to burst. Mentally screaming at him to not even think about pulling out, but the last thing you wanted was for this young girl to hear your screams of pleasure, and have that awkward conversation later.
"I already ate." Giving you a sly wink referring to when he just ate you out on the desk.
No other words were said which meant she had walked away. Joel returned his focus back to you watching as your body was writhing on the table. Picking up his rhythm making little moans and whimpers leave your mouth.
"Such a good girl staying quiet for me while I fuck that sweet pussy." He cooed at you making your cheeks heat up.
The room was becoming thick with lust and smelled like sex. Hands gripping the edges of the desk as it started to really rock back and forth against the floor making a screeching sound.
Moving one his hands down so he could play with your clit. Leaning up on your elbows so you could watch. Your mouth watering at the sight as his cock disappeared inside of you, and his thick fingers rubbing your bud.
Joel looked down and watched as he fucked you. Admiring how well you took his cock. Loving how your pussy would swallow him whole, and pull out to see your juices covering him. It made it all the more easy for him to slide inside of you.
“Your a little whore aren’t you?” Biting your bottom lip harshly as you nodded up at him.
“Getting fucked knowing anyone could see us.” Growling as he leaned his body on top of yours kissing your collarbone.
Feeling your walls tightening around him as you knew you were close. Feeling that tingling sensation in your lower stomach that familiar warm coil in the pit of your belly. Legs already starting to shake as your orgasm was getting closer.
"Fuck baby your pussy is squeezing me so god damn tight." He strained as he felt his own cock twitching nearing his release. "Gonna have to stretch you out more though."
“You’re too fucking tight.” Lips nipping at your neck and jawline.
Hands removing from your ankles, but sliding under your ass as he lifted your hips up to meet his now hard thrusts. You'd think this was the last time you guys were going to have sex with how hard he was going. Then again it very well could be with what was going on.
Your ass and lower thighs clapping every time they met his skin. Your hands gripping the sides of the desk as your head feel back, and your back started to arch.
“Bet you wanna cum so badly.”
“Joel please I’m so close.” Pathetically mewling to him as a tear rolled down the side of your face.
Letting out an uncontrollable cry as your pussy was clenching down on him more frequently. Feeling him deep all the way in your stomach. The noises your body was making had your cheeks burning up. Joel found them incredibly hot and a major turn on.
You were so wet for him you felt your arousal dripping onto the table. The sweat from your bodies sticking to each other. You felt so dirty but yet so alive. It was such a euphoric feeling, and you didn't want to let it go.
"That's it baby that's it take it like a good girl." Tears were now streaming down your face with his harsh and quick movements.
Both of you chasing your release, and this one was going to be intense. You could feel it all the way down to your toes. It has been too long, and both of you were ready to burst.
Leaning his body down so he could attach his lips to your erect nipples. Sucking on them while he maintained his rhythm never once losing his beat. You were becoming overwhelmed as you felt your toes curling, and the urge to go to the bathroom.
"God your pussy feels so good." He mumbled around your nipple making your sensitive buds tingle.
Biting down on the bud making you squeal as you felt him smirking against your breasts. He was always such a little shit when it came to sex always doing something to tease you.
Moving his lips up kissing your collarbone, then kissing your neck. Kissing along your jawline before he attached his lips to yours. Keeping his lips on yours not moving them. Loving the taste of his lips on yours.
Swallowing every single little breath or noise that you made. His facial hair was scratching your skin, and you loved it.
"Cum for me sweetheart." Whispering against your lips as light as a whisper, and you didn't need to be told twice as you were coming undone.
Feeling your body tightening as you clung onto Joel like a vine. Your nails gripping onto his arms as your release literally shook you to your core. It was overwhelming but mind blowing at the same time.
Joel’s thrusts we're starting to slow down. His body was finally starting to give up on him. He wasn't going to last much longer, and his hips were burning. Giving you a sharp pump keeping his cock there as your orgasm hit you.
Making you scream his name as your eyes closed and legs shook. Joel lifted himself on his arms hovering above you as he waited for your body to calm down. A drop of sweat rolling down the back of your neck. Both of you trying to catch your breath.
"I could stay buried between your legs all day." He spoke as you were coming back down from your high.
Joel swiftly pulling himself out of you hissing at how raw you were. Feeling so empty now missing the feeling already of him being inside you. Your naked body now quickly becoming cold as the air brushed around you.
“Well I won’t protest to that.” Your voice shaky as he chuckled.
Leaning up on your elbows to look at his flushed and slightly red face. His hands tracing patterns softly on your thighs as he looked admiringly at you. Goosebumps appearing on your skin at his intoxicating and sweet touch.
“Then I’m never going to leave that sweet cunt of yours.” Pulling your body towards the edge of the desk with a deep growl.
“Lucky me.” Cocking your head to side challenging him.
Before you could get another word in he swiftly grabbed your body so that you were now bent over his desk. A small gasp left your lips then a giggle. He was always so playful with you, and he even though he would do the same things it still surprised you.
“Joel.” Squealing as he gave your ass a couple sharp smacks.
His hands massaging the flesh in his hands as he kept spreading your cheeks apart. Looking down with a deep groan as you rocked your hips back and forth to tease him. Twisting your head to look at him as he returned your smile with a wide cheshire grin.
Hands sprawled out in front of you as he pressed his semi erect cock against your backside. It all happened so quick you felt like you got whiplash from how quick he moved.
"Don’t tempt me cause I will keep you stuffed at all times." He growled before he shoved his cock inside of you again making you gasp from the stretch.
——————————————
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#Pedro pascal#joel Miller#Pedro pascal smut#joel Miller smut#Pedro pascal imagines#joel Miller imagines#Pedro pascal x reader#joel Miller x reader#Pedro pascal fanfiction#joel Miller fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us smut#joel Miller fic#Pedro pascal fic
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Could u pls do a pt 2 to patience? 😭🧎🏼♀️
Yessss Yes I can🥰 I think I got a bit carried away not gonna lie but this may be my favorite thing I’ve written on here so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Patience Pt2
[masterlist][Pt1]
Bf!Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader
Warnings:Smut,OrgasmDenial,D/S Dynamics, Exhibitionism/PublicSex,Teasing, Dacryphilia(kinda), Unprotected PinV.
It didn’t take Mattheo long to begin exploring his newly found kink, and it soon became his utmost favorite thing to do. He’d innocently smile across from you at dinner as you stumble over your words, his voice filling your mind with promises of what he’d do to you later. He’d sit beside you in class, dutifully taking notes for you both as he distracted you with images of him taking you on that very desk.
“Do you like that Princess? Do you want me to fuck you in front of everyone?” Thankfully you’d grown rather good at hiding moans and gasps from his surprises, much to his dismay. So he just found new ways to earn those pretty noises. Some days he’d tease you relentlessly without ever allowing you to touch him outside of your thoughts until you were too needy to care about the noises you’d make. On other days he’d discreetly bring his hand down to run his fingertips along the top of your thigh while he told you how much he needed you in your mind. All the while never intending to give you anything, just to make you act like a needy little brat so he’d get to treat you accordingly.
Today Mattheo had decided to try a new mix of the two, he figured if he put enough thought into it he could make you feel anything he wanted you to, anywhere he wanted you to. Just the thought of you coming in your seat at merely imagining his touch had Mattheo struggling to fit his dick behind his zipper that morning. At breakfast he did his best to act as calm as possible as he took his usual seat across from you with a smile, “Good morning Gorgeous, did you sleep well?”
As soon as he watched your lips go to form your sentence, he concentrated on your beautiful mind and how amazing it would feel to please you from under the table, forcing a rush of warmth to run directly up your inner thigh as though Mattheo had just gotten on his knees and licked his way below your skirt. He took the light gasp and widened eyes as evidence enough of his plan working, the human mind was after all, more or less, a mass of cords he could rewire at his will.
The corners of Mattheo’s mouth rising into a wicked grin told you all you needed to know, whimpering slightly as the sensation of his teeth marking your thigh flooded your nerve endings. “You like that Baby? New little trick of mine. Are you okay with it?” The way he nonchalantly ate scrambled eggs and watched your face as though he wasn’t giving you phantom kisses across your naval had you squirming in your seat and falling into a submissive state.
You knew he wouldn’t use any of his mind tricks to hurt or control you. Or do anything you said not to for that matter, but knowing he could, knowing that he was in fact taught to use magic for mental manipulation to do just that to enemies of his father, had a rush of heat shooting to your core that dampened your panties as you nodded your head quickly. Mattheo arched his eyebrows at you while he smiled into his juice after having read your thoughts, he knew you loved the sense of control he had over you in moments like these and he absolutely adored when you were his good girl.
But today, he wanted the bratty, attitude filled y/n that had him tightened against his jeans from the day he met you. And he was hell bent on bringing her out to play.
He was painfully hard and growing more so while he watched you try not to move as his nonexistent fingers ghosted over your clit. He was teasing himself just as much as he was you, wishing he could feel and taste your wetness he was positive was accumulating between your thighs. Mattheo wanted to punish you, he wanted you to be looking up at him with glossy eyes and begging in that adorably whiny little voice of yours by the end of the day. And being the fair boyfriend he was, he’d never punish you without reason…….so he’d make a reason.
“Words Darling.” You huffed at him, scrunching your eyebrows together from across the table. Mattheo could tell you weren’t going to last very long, but he had a lot planned for you nevertheless. He waved his hand out, urging you to speak as he kept eating his breakfast.
“Y-yea,” You managed, gripping the table with a gasp as Mattheo’s imaginary tongue slid between your folds without warning. “What was that Baby? Sorry I couldn’t hear you.” He teased, eyes watching you like a hawk as you steadied yourself against the table. He bit back a grin as he reveled in the fact that not a single soul but you and him knew what he was making you feel right now.
“Yes,” You said louder, in a breathy voice as he made you feel his tongue repeatedly flicking at your clit below your underwear at an unrelenting pace, before abruptly ending his assault on your nerves with an innocent smile.
“You didn’t think I’d give it to you all at once did you?” He chuckled at your desperation, looking forward to the day ahead of him even more so now with your shiny eyes looking to him as a pout formed on your lips.
“Eat, I know you’re hungry,” Mattheo spoke calmly and sweetly, but with the edge of dominance that let you know he was planning on continuing this game until you couldn’t think properly. You huffed and scowled at him as you grabbed for his muffin, stealing it from him as he watched how you were growing frustrated with a content smile.
~~~~
He started off slowly in your first class of the day. He knew you weren’t great at Potions and knew you’d absolutely Crucio him if you failed this pop quiz. So he’d opted for relaxing you with the feeling of kisses along your neck and making it feel as though he was squeezing your shoulders comfortingly while correcting your mistakes from the back of your thoughts before you wrote them. He’d ever so slightly drag his imaginary teeth across your sweet spot every once in a while, teasing you as you jumped slightly before continuing on with his sweet pecks. Leaving you soaked and wanting more as you began to wiggle in your seat and huff in annoyance, something Mattheo found oh so pleasing.
~~~~
History of Magic, however, was a different story. As soon as Professor Binns began speaking, you felt Mattheo’s large calloused hands running up the fronts of your thighs as though he was knelt before you. For a second your eyes fell below the desk, watching the empty air thinking for sure you’d find a second Mattheo as his phantom fingers slipped beneath the hem of your underwear. Mattheo bit at his knuckle with a smile as he watched you looking for his nonexistent hands, squirming in your seat less than a foot away from him. “I wish I could feel you for real Princess,”
The sudden feeling of bites, and kisses, and licks almost made you forget not to speak, catching yourself just in time to thinking clearly for him to hear, “Hypothetically you could.” Mattheo giggled at you, shaking his head mockingly as he leant on his arms, smiling at you like a sweetheart who wasn’t planning on relentlessly teasing you all day.
“Wake me up before the bell Princess.” Mattheo sighed with a fake yawn and a wink before closing his eyes and focusing solely on your pleasure. Mattheo saw himself in the room, as though he was a ghost out of his own body, kneeling before you under the desk like worship. He wasted no time in delving into you, sucking at your clit and making you jolt forward in your seat next to him. A boyish grin grew on his real face beside you as he smiled into your legs in your mind.
His tongue maintained a brutal pace as you wiggled in your seat, going back and forth from sucking and flicking with his tongue, making out with your pussy until he was certain you were going to explode. Removing the sensation before quickly shoving two of his imaginary fingers into you, forcing you to audibly gasp as Mattheo hummed approvingly beside you. It felt like you were actually being stretched around air below the lace of your underwear as a shiver ran down your spine. Mattheo slowly stimulated your g-spot from the back of your mind, making it increasingly difficult to remain quiet and still as your walls clenched around nothing. Your thighs instinctively came together to rub against each other but the feeling of his nonexistent fingers remained, not quite enough to push you over the edge on their own.
“Oh, are you tired of me already Princess? I guess I can give you a break then.” And with that, the sensation stopped. A desperate whine of a “No” almost falling from your lips as your mind spoke it to it’s invader, huffing and taking shallow breaths. Mattheo cracked an eye to watch you as you leant back in your chair, brows furrowed and arms crossed with a pout on your face, he was close.
~~~~
In Transfiguration he didn’t even warn you. As you were sat beside Mattheo like always, almost forgetting the game at play, suddenly Mattheo found his way into your mind again, making you feel filled with his phantom fingers once more. Mattheo remained focused ahead, showing no signs of remorse as you let out a frustrated hmph that made his dick twitch in his pants while you eyed his side profile angrily.
“Patience Gorgeous…” He spoke in a slow, dominant voice in your thoughts as he side eyed you, writing something down you’d entirely missed. “How about this Baby,” He started in a soothing voice, slowly drawing his imaginary fingers in and out of you, “If you can get through the rest of class without coming, I’ll get you out of here and give you a proper fuck. What d’ya say?”
You were nodding your head eagerly before he was even finished, “tsk tsk, I know you know the rules Baby,” You narrowed your eyes at him defiantly as Mattheo halted his actions on your notes paper, eyeing you with raised eyebrows like a challenge, just waiting for you to disobey him. The feeling of his other hand gripping at your thigh distracted you as your eyes shot to where it should have been before giving in, biting your lip to hold back a moan at his tightening phantom grip.
“I can, yes,” You whispered in a voice you weren’t quite sure he even heard at first. “You can what?” He whispered back in a cockily smooth, silky voice that sent shivers down your spine and directly to your core. You gave him pleading eyes as you brought your bottom lip between your teeth, silently begging him to just take your answer as your eyes began to water.
He swore he was about to cum in his pants at the sight of you all needy over him manipulating your mind in just the right way. Mattheo gave you a mocking little laugh before giving in to you as he always would. He loved to think he was in control but even Mattheo knew he’d give you absolutely anything you wanted if you gave him those eyes. Before you had time to react, he was diving into your mind again with no warning.
“Gods, you’re such a pathetic little girl aren’t you?” You almost screamed in pleasure as you felt the fingers of his other hand suddenly rubbing fast circles on your sensitive clit while the other pounded into you at a brutal pace. “You wish these were my real fingers don’t you Princess? Wish everyone could hear the mess I’m making of you?” You nodded weakly as you rested your head on the desk in front of you, his unrelenting attack of your nerves making it difficult to concentrate on being discreet.
“Don’t worry, I wish it was too. Do you want my cock next Gorgeous?” You couldn’t respond to him, any and all thoughts too jumbled to not accidentally slip past your lips. “I know you do, because you’re a needy little thing, but you’re getting the real deal, not some day dream Darling, so you’ll just have to wait.”
You whimpered into the wood of the desk as you rubbed your thighs together, throbbing and clenching around nothing before looking up to see Mattheo watching you with a hand beneath the desk. You were desperate for a real touch and wanted his hand on you and not him and he knew it. He knew you wouldn’t risk reaching for him and getting him caught also, so he reveled in your teary eyes watching him palm his leaking dick over his jeans.
Suddenly, just as the bell rang, the assault of your senses stopped as Mattheo jumped to gather yours and his things, messily shoving it in both of your bags at random before grabbing for your wrist and tugging you out the door behind him. Your legs were weak and wobbling as you clung to his hand and let him pull you into a classroom only three corridors away from the packed hallway of students transitioning into their next class.
He shoved you through as he slammed the door with a muttered locking and silencing charm before roughly grabbing at your waist. Mattheo yanked you up to him as you subconsciously wrapped your legs around him, meeting his eyes before he practically threw you onto the closest desk. His lips attacked your neck forcing out a pornographic moan from you, grateful to finally be touched.
He wasted no time in roughly ripping at your underwear, tearing them in the middle as his other hand worked to remove his belt and free himself from his boxers. He haphazardly shoved his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs as his dick bounced out against his stomach making him hiss. Mattheo grabbed at the back if your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling your lips to his in a passionate kiss.
You both were breathing heavily into eachothers mouths as his tongue forced itself against yours, immediately claiming dominance and sighing in satisfaction. Without warning Mattheo’s hands moved to grip your hips, and jolted you forward onto his red, leaking dick. Forcing breathy moans from the both of you as your lips ghosted against each others. “Fucking hell you’re fucking dripping for me.”
“Please fuck me Matty,” You begged, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself off the desk as his arms immediately snaked around your waist to hold you on his dick. You were tired of his teasing and tired of his games, you wanted control of it and whether he realized it or not, he’d handed it to you.
“Anything for you my Princess,” he whispered, placing a delicate kiss to your lips which quickly turned heated as he began to ram into you. Your fingers got lost in his curls as you mindlessly bucked against him with his pace, arching over the table against him. Mattheo chased your lips with his as they left him making you giggle and tug at his hair forcing a groan from the back if his throat.
In a flash he’d forced your back flat against the table, hovering over you with dark eyes and his signature smile. “I want a kiss Baby” He said slowly and sweetly, in direct contrast of the way he was driving into your g-spot over and over. He smashed his lips into yours, nipping at your bottom lip as your nails dug into his back through his shirt. You clenched around him as your legs shook with the table, your vision going slightly blurry with euphoria as you came undone below him.
You let your head fall back as Mattheo lead a trail of kisses and bites up and down your neck as his movements became sloppy and his moans grew louder. You rode out your high as he stuttered above you, clutching at the edge of the desk that bounced against the floor, biting at your neck to quiet himself as he filled you with his cum.
“Fuck Matty,” You sighed as he chuckled and looked up to meet your eyes, his hair was damp with sweat and his curls hung over his eyes as he looked at you with a shockingly innocent smile.
~~~~
I honestly love this so much🫣
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Would hwr reader be the cool wine aunt? (I can see her accidentally getting drunk off wine thinking it was grape juice or non alcoholic, then chrollo having to supervise her the whole night lol)
anon ... are you a secret telepath because i've considered so many variations of this exact scenario.
for some context on HWR reader's abysmal alcohol tolerance — certain bloodlines from her home country hailed from the dark continent. they could temporarily boost their abilities, whether it be the five senses, strength, or speed, at the cost of enduring excruciating pain once the burst ends. a peculiar side effect owing to this constitution is that those who possess it are extremely sensitive to psychoactive substances. so, understandably, she takes great care in avoiding anything that could land her in a precarious position.
the common language in hxh isn't her native tongue, so if a word or term is obscure enough, all bets are off. for instance, in the earlier days when she just joined the troupe, paku once offered her a nightcap. HWR reader accepted. imagine her confusion when she was presented with a drink. it didn't look like any hat she'd seen before. the troupe greatly perplexed her at first.
the scenario you proposed has definitely happened before. here's the basic rundown:
her and chrollo were staking out an event under the pretense of being guests. a wandering waiter offered her a drink from his tray. it wasn't held in a champagne chute, martini glass, or the like, there was no indication to the beverage's true nature. she inquired over the ingredients. the waiter listed off what made up the concoction. the name of the hard liquor went over her head, it was the lovechild of a recent startup the event's owner had invested in to 'diversify his investment portfolio.'
it lacked the bitter tang commonly associated with alcohol. it was slightly sweet with a tarte aftertaste.
whilst sipping away and fraternizing with the other attendees, chrollo reappeared. he'd been piecing together a mental blueprint of the estate for later use. he easily integrated back into the social scene, almost as if he'd never left in the first place. before he'd even reentered the grand reception area, he'd caught onto a fluctuation in HWR reader's impeccable aura. while not an outright cause for alarm, he found it odd.
(some not SFW beneath the cut)
although he hid it well, he was genuinely surprised to see his normally abstinent lover indulging herself. she was critiquing the research of two gentlemen who had been not so subtly flaunting their game-changing findings the entire evening. the men appeared scandalized as she pointed out inconsistencies in their data and the like. he swooped in only when it became evident the men were about to raise a fuss, smoothly excusing him and his increasingly irate date.
he could roughly guess how this predicament came to be. he explained to her in a low and steady voice that this drink actually has a high alcohol concentration. it took a moment for her impaired cognition to catch up with his words. when the realization hit, however, she was not enthused.
by the time they'd made it back to their 'borrowed' vehicle, her legs were unsteady. there was a thin glaze over her eyes, like she was only half-present. on the drive back to the hotel, she'd randomly continue her earlier critique in an incomprehensive murmur. he never knew poorly falsified data was such an unforgivable slight in her eyes.
chrollo was growing increasingly intrigued by this unfiltered version of his otherwise prim and proper girlfriend. did he feel bad that she ended up in this position? kinda, but he wouldn't let anything happen to her. or, to be more precise, let anything happen to the civilians in the immediate area. not out of compassion, mind you, but for convenience's sake. he's trying to maintain a low profile in this area until the heist's completion. a dangerous, sword-wielding woman capable of wiping out an entire town's population should she see fit would be counteractive to this goal.
he dutifully keeps an eye on her in their suite. she vacillates between forgetting he's there or eagerly engaging him in a wide array of topics. everything from the separation of church and state to 'if he really likes her.' at this point, she'd shrugged off her outer garments (with his assistance), the heat of inebriation unbearable. chrollo had been exercising every modicum of self-control in his body as she crawled into his lap, perching herself there like it was her throne. her fingers, free from her usual gloves, brushing along the various grooves of his face.
"pretty," she hums. her blissed out expression, breathy voice, and the pressure of her body against his crotch makes him strain to behave himself. "my pretty boy."
he's grateful that she isn't lucid enough to note the rosy blush that spreads over his cheeks at this unexpected praise.
in a languid motion, her arms wrap around his neck. she embraces him tight enough that he can feel the soft swell of her chest, threatening to spill out from its restraints. she plays with the ends of his hair, humming a melody unknown to him, perfectly content. he allows himself some indulgence — his hands settle on either side of her hips. to help steady her, he tells himself. for such a proficient liar, this excuse is admittedly pathetic.
"boss."
"hm?"
"i have a secret," she whispers. this piques his curiosity, overriding his previous sentiments to respect her privacy. selfishly, he hopes she doesn't remember this come morning. otherwise, he'll be in for an earful...
"oh?" he goads her on. "and what would that be?"
(goodbye plausible deniability).
her lips brush against his outer ear and he shivers.
"i've fallen in love with someone."
his breath hitches in his throat. he ceases his previous ministrations of rubbing circles into her skin. despite enjoying three years of sex, heists, and frequent companionship, those infamous three words have yet to be uttered. they've made it evident that they're exclusive, but that's about it. neither of them have delved into the nitty and gritty of whatever their relationship truly means.
momentarily, he forgets how to weave elaborate webs that ensnare his victims right where he wants them. all eloquence and posturing melts away. what little of him that leaves remaining utters his next two words, not the persona whose charisma could rival a manipulator's hatsu.
"with who?"
the raw, guttural urgency he speaks this inquiry with is foreign to his ears. he wonders what he'd do should she profess devotion for another. would he have what it takes to respect her choice? it's a silly question; of course he wouldn't, not past a chilling smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
alas, this hypothetical is put to rest. its his name that she speaks. the accent she tries suppressing sneaks out, curling around each slowly enunciated syllable. after what feels like an eternity, he relaxes, sinking back into the plush couch.
"don't tell him," there's a threatening edge to her voice.
chuckling softly, he hugs her tighter.
"i won't."
#chrollo x reader#not sfw#hell within reach#this ended up getting longer than i expected GJSKDFL#answered#Anonymous
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Behind Closed Masks
→ Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader
Summary: Amidst a looming threat to Yuuji’s life, you're all holed up at Shoko's house for safety. It's the practical choice for him, to be surrounded by Jujutsu Society's strongest. Alternatives are in the works, but for now, as you’re all holed up in Shoko's place, events begin to unfurl with Gojo Satoru in the centre of it all.
Content Warnings: friends with benefits, fluff, angst, unrequited feelings, canon divergence because getou is here and mentally well, mention of smoking, mention of violence, mention of harassment, exhibitionism-ish, oral sex (f!receiving) MINORS DNI
Word Count: 3.8k words
Author's Note: Ngl I kinda hate this but enjoy :) Might be kinda ooc
Read on AO3
Satoru Gojo, the receiver of one too many love letters, the rejector of one too many confessions was obviously coined to be every girl’s boy, and inadvertently, as the lady's man.
But truth be laid bare, Satoru never truly had the time, not for women or men. He only truly had time for his intimate circle of friends who luckily had managed to penetrate through all of the layers of façade.
But it's off season, he’s on a low stakes mission and there’s not many curses to kill and he's bored. He’s been bored for a while now and since Yujji had been buzzing at his ear like a mosquito, he decides that maybe he should undertake the mantle he had been anointed with for years.
So, he downloads tinder, albeit his reluctance. Because surely, there were more dignified avenues into hookup culture? But who was he to argue with Suguru, a man who actually lives up to the reputation expectation — hailed as everyone's resident fuckboy.
It's not surprising by any means at all, but there's swell of pride that blooms in him with each illuminating "It's a Match!" notification on his screen. He's not expecting to do much from here, at least — not today. He only downloaded this app to appease Yujji after all.
However, at your entrance into the living room, with your barrage of bags upon bags, he finds himself hastily pocketing his phone — a bit too swiftly than he should have.
He notices Suguru's discerning eyes staring at him, at his move, but Satoru, ever the consummate performer, simply offers him a genial smile and redirects his gaze back at you — this very angry version of you.
You're staring at the lot of them — dead in their faces, almost like you're planning to squint your way through to a create a hole in their faces.
"What's with the frown? It doesn't suit you, pretty." He rose from his seat, a beat behind the swift advances of Suguru and Yujji, both of whom had promptly positioned themselves at your side.
Yuuji relieved you of your bags as he took half the weight off, while Suguru merely extended his help in the form of a box of raspberry juice.
"What's with the frown?!" Yuuji asks.
You stop, taking a long sip of the juice, before you start talking again, "I told you guys to come with me. You didn't want to. The least you could do was pick me up when you agreed to. But no! I was out there, in the middle of no where, trying to get a fucking Uber. And then the Uber driver started hitting on me. And he was so creepy about it too. This is why I hate ubering by the w—"
"Is he still outside?" Satoru's voice cuts through, abruptly altering into a tone of sobriety.
"I don't know. But I want to punch something, maybe we should practice today, Suguru."
You looked up to see him, wanting to see if he agreed with you. But Suguru had disappeared. You turned around, searching the room with your eyes, but there was no sign of him. He wasn't there anymore. The room remained still with only four of you giving it company.
Then, a distant sound, the rumble of an argument spewing its way from outside, reached your ears inside the living room. The four of you are quick to move, swivelling your way through to the point of discord.
Yet, upon arrival, you only catch the diminishing silhouette of the Uber vehicle taking its departure from Shoko's compound. And then, your eyes catch Suguru, arms akimbo, as he looked down at the concrete, uttering an expletive.
"Aww, now I feel better already," you quipped, making your way to hug an annoyed-looking Suguru.
He melted, as one naturally does at the touch of another. Albeit, it may be through reluctance, but his hands don't show it as they come up to gently pull you closer into his chest. He knows you need this more than he does.
"Sorry for not picking you up," he murmurs.
Drawing back slightly, you said, "Well, you going up to fight him makes up for it, I guess."
"Wow," Shoko interjected with an incredulous laugh. "You want us to resort to violence?"
"Well, obviously not. But you would if I asked you, right?" you contended with a smile, fixing your gaze on Suguru.
"Absolutely not," Shoko voice comes out swift and emphatic, a declaration that's seconded by Suguru's shrug of indifference.
Satoru, however, interposed with a grin, speaks up, "I would fight anyone for you."
You look at him, your eyes assessing him from hair to shoes. "Really?" you said, your tone clearly coloured by amusement.
At that, Satoru's eyes squint in annoyance, "I would, and in case you've forgotten, I am the strongest one here?"
"I mean, sure when we were teenagers. That's different, you're kinda wimpy looking now."
You don't actually believe that, you'd be a fool to believe that. Truth be told, he's likely the first person you would instinctively turn towards if you found yourself in any trouble. You're just teasing because you find his attempts at acting annoyed and angry all too endearing, and it's nice — the way he's fighting to fight for you.
Satoru feigns a dramatic sigh, hand pressed against his heart. "Wow," he remarks. "Here I was, prepared to face dragons in your honour, and all I get is this indignation."
"Alright, both of you drama queens can continue you the play for us," Shoko's hands come up to push the two of you inside the house. "As we make dinner," she continues. "I'm fucking starving."
—
Dinner unfolded in its familiar routine. Suguru's standing behind the counter, his hands moving with a practiced grace as his swished through the vegetables. You make your way from sitting on one counter to the other, munching on cut vegetables and cheese alike.
Satoru flitted between scenes, briefly checking on the TV and Yuuji in the living room and then joining you and Suguru in the kitchen. Shoko, on the other hand, was for a smoke as she often is — you wonder if that's just her way of taking the time she needs away from the group.
And as the night deepens, you all sit down to eat together beneath the glow of Shoko's yellow lights — you savour each bit as you try to extend the night, not wanting it to end yet. But eventually, the plates were clear, and all of you share the task of washing and cleaning up into the night.
When it came time to rest, sleeping arrangements fell into its usual place. Satoru found his place on the couch, while Suguru occupied the other one. Yuuji chose the floor, favouring it over the couch or the bed. And Shoko's retired to the comforts of her own familiar bed. She deserved as much for tolerating the lot of you, she said.
You, on the other hand, spoiled as you often are, you sleep in the guest room, all alone.
But on a night like this you know you're not going to be alone, not when all the warning signs were laid out — the incessant touches on your waist as he moved, the soft smile, the stares — it was all a bit too apparent than usual.
So, when you hear the door creak open gently you're not surprised, and when Satoru patters in with softly laid footsteps you're not surprised. "Hey," his voice whispered its way to you.
In response to his whispered greeting, you softly murmur, "Hey."
Satoru settled onto the bed beside you, making himself comfortable as he placed his phone on the table beside the bed.
A knowing smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you reach out to him, draping your arms gently around his neck. With a deliberate and unhurried motion, you shift your position, sitting up and moving to straddle him, your legs finding their place on either side of his hips.
"Are you okay?" He asks, his thumb coming up to graze the edge of your lip. His tone was neutral, but his eyes they peer into your eyes, so intently, it almost makes you feel bare.
Your fingers play at the short hair that remains at the nape of his neck, a feather-light touch eliciting a faint shiver from him, but he maintains his gaze at you.
"I'm okay?" you respond, a hint of confusion in your voice.
"The Uber guy—"
Recognition dawns upon you, and you chuckle softly "Ah, that. Yeah," you pause, considering your response after. "That's normal. I mean, it's not but yeah, I'm okay don't worry. Used to this really."
His gaze softens, "I can find him right now, teach him a lesson if you want," his thumb continuing its absentminded caress along your lip.
You give him a small, appreciative smile, your fingers continuing their gentle dance on his nape. "No need for all that, stupid," you reply, "It's really fine. I didn't think twice about it." You let out a chuckle. "Well, maybe twice but not more than that."
"How long are you staying for?" Satoru's question shifts the mood.
"I'm leaving in two weeks, around the same time as now," you finally share.
His gaze flickers, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "You?" you inquire, but you don't truly want to know, you'd rather you just all stay here for a month, or two.
He hesitates for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on your waist. "Not sure yet," he admits. "Could be around a month. Haven't finalised the details."
"That's good to hear," you murmur softly. "I mean, you've been up to a lot lately. Must be nice to be back home."
"Yeah, I miss food," he frowns.
A few beats pass, as you sit there in silence.
"Wish you could stay longer," he says, his voice coming out a bit too vulnerable than you're usually used to because it's jarring, it's starting to sound like a confession you know you'll never get.
"Yeah?" you ask, swallowing. "Why?"
He stares and you stare back, there's a moment, for a silly little moment during the fragile second suspended between you two, you think he's going to say something real. But then, with a shift, his hands reposition their grip around your legs that are wrapped around his hips, and he pulls, guiding you to fall back onto the softness of your pillow.
Your heart pounds, the abrupt change of position leaving you two separated before on top of you, as he moves his face to your neck.
"To do this,” he speaks, and his words are ticklish against the side of your neck. His knee quickly moves to lodge itself between your legs, hovering but not fully pushing.
"Satoru—"
He continues to map his way down to your neck as his hand slid along your thigh. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, as it usually does and his hips pressing firmly into yours to pin you into the bed.
Your fingers come up to his hair, tugging on his roots as he continued his ministrations around around your neck, as he continued leaving a hickey. “Aw! I’ve missed you too—” Your breathy confession ends up in a gasp, as he bites particularly too hard.
"Sorry," he says but he doesn't really look sorry.
You know he's not sorry because he moves almost immediately to yank his shirt from over his head.
"Maybe we shouldn't," you voice as he lays his palms on your knees, smirking in satisfaction at the way you were already spreading your legs for him to settle in between, even as your words professed otherwise.
"Why not?" He asks, as he bends down to tug on your shorts as you help me by shimming your way out.
"Well, Yuuji and Suguru are literally a door away and well, we're at Iwa's place—"
Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up to your stomach, he brought his head between your legs. “Is it because you like him, you—“
“What?” He pauses, and you couldn’t help but sound a little annoyed, because this is odd. In all your times together, he never brought this up. In all your many years of friendship, he never brought this up. "What?" your tone softening as you repeat.
A palpable beat of silence lingers between you two.
Satoru lets out a sigh, the tension in his voice giving way to weariness. "I don't know, I was just wondering."
"About what, exactly?" you inquire.
"I don't know," he responds, a touch of frustration tinging his tone. "Do you like him? Suguru?"
"Like Suguru...?" you spoke, baffled. "Of course, I don't. You'd be the first to know if I did."
"Why's that?" His question hangs in the air.
A soft, incredulous chuckle escapes your lips. "Well, you're kind of my best friend, aren't you?"
He doesn't speak up, merely nodding before you push his head down between you thighs. He complies, his mouth moving to suck bruises on the inner part of your thigh as he hooks his fingers around the side of your underwear.
He pushes your underwear down your legs and you help him by kicking it off. His hands then movie to push down your thighs to the bed, leaving you bare in a way that leaves you abashed.
He runs his tongue across his lower lip, Satoru didn’t start slow and he was nowhere near as gentle as he usually is, but you figure the aspect of your friends right outside your door might have spurred him on to go quicker.
He didn't leave a little kiss as he usually did, nor were there any tentative licks, he just straight up latched his mouth against your cunt, spreading your legs apart until you were as exposed as you could be so his tongue could reach deep inside you.
“Fuck—” Your hand immediately went back to his head, curling your fingers around his soft locks. You aren't sure if you were pushing him closer, or pushing him away.
You moaned softly, still concious of your precarious state in a friend's house as a guest. You bucked against him as his tongue flicked over you.
“Oh, God—” His slick muscle pressed flat against your folds, drawing designs across your sensitive skin. He went up and down, up and down, again and again, and again — he only momentarily stopped to pay attention to your clit, sucking until your thighs began to slowly tremble.
“Satoru, Satoru, fuck wait—” Your breathing hitches.
Satoru had always been good with his hands but that was nothing compared to what his mouth and tongue could do. He was so good at this that you could barely form any other reactions and you were getting progressively scared as you started to get louder and less in control of yourself.
His gaze, hooded and fixed on your face, holds a glimmer of need as he spoke, "What's wrong?"
"They'll hear us," you murmur softly, a hint of caution in your voice.
"It's fine," he responded, with a smile, as he dove back in.
"What— No, it's not okay," you protested.
But he didn't relent, he continued on and on and on until your legs began to tremble. He savoured your taste and you felt the vibration of his muffled voice reverberates directly against your skin. “You’re gonna come for me, baby?"
And at the sound of that, you do.
"Fuck— You're so annoying sometimes," you exclaim, sitting up from where you had been lounging against your pillow, your breath slightly uneven.
Seated now, you deliver a playful slap to his shoulder. "Ow— Is that any way to treat the man who just gave you an orgasm?" he quipped as he rubbed his shoulders to soothe your assault.
Your initial impulse is to give him a mock scowl, maybe even playfully shove him down to show him what you would do to a man who just made you come. But then, his phone buzzes.
Your eyes instinctively dart to the side, and just as swiftly, Satoru moves to turn off the glowing screen. However, his speed isn't enough to prevent you from catching a glimpse of the display, not enough to discern the specifics, but enough to stir, well... something.
"You're on Tinder?" The question slips from your lips before you can catch it.
"Uh—" Satoru's expression shifts, a mix of embarrassment and guilt colouring his features. "Yeah, Yuuji kinda forced me to do it."
"Forced you into it?" Your curiosity deepens, your voice coming out incredulous.
"Yeah," he says, plainly.
"How does someone force you into downloading and signing up for a whole app?"
He wants to explain, but really he's not sure what he can or should say, so he merely asks what lingers in his mind. "What's the big deal?"
"Nothing," you concede. It's true, it's nothing. Plus, you've been part of the club after all. You know how this goes.
You repeat the mantra in your mind—it's all just nothing. Meaningless and not real. But despite your efforts to convince yourself, a twinge of unease stirs within you. Sensing the potential weight of those unspoken thoughts, you quickly shift your focus, grabbing your underwear as a way to distract yourself from the festering emotions that boil right below the surface.
"What? Wow — No head?" he muses.
"I'm just too tired today," you reply, the weariness in your voice matching the fatigue that weighs you down - as though your words have spoken your exhaustion into fruition.
As the night stretches on, you lie in the dimness of the guest room, ensnared in a ceaseless loop of replaying the day's events. It's as though you're stuck with a malfunctioning record that refuses to stop. So, you shift and you shift in your bed, and you're suddenly overcome by an uncomfortable heat.
Truth be told, your heart ached not just from the events of this day, but from years and years of unspoken words.
Your closeness to Satoru, a social man who's cautious about who he allows into his life, can be traced back to a confession you made.
Dumb and in love, back when you were 17, you mustered the courage to reveal your feelings for him. Naturally, he turned you down. You were expecting it, of course and were hoping that wish away the feeling you had for him. There's a strange solace in embracing the stages of heartbreak - your friends telling you stories about how a "Fuck him, I'm sad" phase quickly turns into a "Fuck him, I'm hot" phase.
But alas, fate had other plans. A friendship sprouted instead.
You presented yourself as having moved beyond your emotions, and at times, it felt real. But then he would do small and ostensibly insignificant acts, as one does for a friend – brushing a speck of grass from your hair, surprising you with your favourite beverage, reminding you to carry an umbrella – and they just made fall deeper into the well.
That wretched well.
After a while, of jostling in bed, you couldn't stand the heat and the suffocating weight of all these thoughts. Quietly, you slipped out of the bed, carefully making your way out of the room. The living room was dimly lit, but you could still see where Satoru lay sprawled awkwardly, half on the couch, half on the floor. While Yujji and Suguru slumbered soundly, the former clutching a throw pillow.
The soft glow of a lamp casting your shadow across the room as you opened the balcony door and settled onto the swing outside.
A floorboard's creak drew your attention, your gaze turning to the living room. And that's when saw Shoko standing there, her figure outlined by the soft light. He seemed surprised to find you awake, her expression a mix of concern and contemplation.
"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked, as she made her way next to you, shutting the balcony door. Her voice carrying a hint of weariness. Perhaps, he was asleep.
You shook your head, not trusting your voice to respond. There was a heaviness in your chest that you couldn't put into words.
She settled beside you in silence, letting moments pass before he spoke. A sigh escaped her, "I'm sorry for not picking you up earlier. It might not seem like a big deal, but I should have showed."
You looked at her, her profile illuminated by the soft light from the moon. "It's really not a big deal." Your hand found its way to her arm, a gesture of reassurance.
You think about how kind Shoko really is as a person. It's not often you find someone like her. I mean, sure Satoru is nice to you but he can often be petty, arrogant and hurtful, even if he may not want to be these things, Shoko, on the other hand, was deliberate with her words, at least around you. It makes you feel loved in a way you have always needed.
Your mind drifted to a specific memory – the last prom. You were clad in a soft shade of purple, and you felt hopeful. Despite going with Shoko, the presence of Satoru, now a friend, lent a certain optimism. Yet, she had snapped at you, in hushed tone though as she did not want his date hearing him, she wanted you to give him and his date space.
It wasn't his fault really, you were lingering in their space after all but you made your way through, seeming as normal as you could, taking some punch in a cup, finding your seat almost working in auto-pilot mode, and after awhile you felt her come sit beside you. Shoko.
She sat beside you in silence for a bit and then she spoke, standing up and offering her hand up for you to take.
"May I have this dance?" she asked.
"I'm tired, Shoko," you responded, dejectedly.
"Come on," she implored, meeting your eyes. "Let me have the honor of sharing your very last prom dance."
With a sigh, you accepted her hand, rising from your seat. Turning away from the amorous couple, you focused on Shoko as she led you into a waltz.
In that moment, you thought you couldn't have asked for a better date.
Soon, you noticed Shoko gradually dozing off beside you. It didn't take long, and with a gentle nudge, you roused her from her slumber.
"You should get some rest," you suggested, your voice a soothing caress.
"Alright," she agreed, a plain weariness in her tone. Rising, she paused before leaving. You think maybe today's the day she would finally ask you about it.
"You know," she began. "You can always talk to me, right?"
A nod was your response.
She leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. With that, she turned and made her way to her room.
A sense of lightness enveloped you, the fatigue gradually returning to your bones. Retracing your steps to the guest room, you knew sleep would find you.
#wrote this a while ago#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#gojo satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen hurt/comfort#jujutsu kaisen x fem reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader angst#gojo satoru x reader fluff
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Comet Donati [Chapter 4: Temporary Fix]
Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.
Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), drugs, alcohol, smoking, crepes, mental health struggles, the Cookie Monster pajama pants are removed...😏
Selected Chapter Quote: “I will push you off the Eiffel Tower.”
Word count: 6.7k.
Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.
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“Our father never cared about us,” Aegon says at the rooftop bar in Kansas City, a full year before you meet Aemond, a full year before you know him as anything other than a face to be printed on t-shirts and keychains like profiles stamped into coins at a mint, things to be acquired, traded, hoarded, lost. Aegon is swirling the ice cubes in his Salty Dog with a green plastic stirrer shaped like a pirate’s sword. He’s glowing from his sunburn, but he glows from within too; you have the sudden and distinct impression that he’s made of weightless luminance, slice a vein and he’d bleed daylight. A year later, you’ll find yourself thinking that if you cut Aemond, storms and rogue waves would come pouring out.
“I’m so sorry,” you offer, knowing it will not help. But it can’t hurt either, unlike those platitudes that well-meaning but ignorant people like to besiege him with: Of course your parents love you. I’m sure they did their best. You’ll understand how hard it is when you’re a dad someday.
“I figured it out pretty early on. How much he preferred Rhaenyra. How I was the antithesis of everything he could have wanted in a son.” Aegon shrugs; it can’t be changed, it’s like trying to stop the rain. He sips his Salty Dog. Ice clinks; he licks his lips. “It took Aemond a little longer. Helaena was always with Grandpa and Daeron was mother’s favorite, but I remember Aemond trailing after our father like a duckling, asking him about history and books and whatever else, just desperate with this need to be noticed, to be loved. If my father was leafing through a biography at the kitchen table, Aemond would spend hours on Google trying to come up with a fact he hadn’t read yet. If my father mentioned a movie, Aemond would watch it over and over again until he had the lines memorized. I remember one Christmas, Aemond wanted the Helm’s Deep Lego set because my father liked the Lord of the Rings. Then he kept asking Dad to help him put it together. ‘We’ll do it this weekend.’ ‘We’ll do it after I get off this conference call.’ ‘We’ll do it tomorrow.’ ‘We’ll do it for your birthday.’ Never happened. Well summer rolled around and I guess Aemond figured he might as well just do it himself. So he stayed up all night putting that fucking Lego castle together and left it on the kitchen table where my father couldn’t miss it. So the old man comes downstairs the next morning for breakfast and we’re all sitting there with our waffles and orange juice, and Aemond is trying not to act too proud but he is, he’s literally shaking with impatience for Dad’s praise, even a crumb, even just a few words, the maple syrup bottle was trembling in his hands. And my father strolls into the kitchen, glances at this meticulously constructed replica of Helm’s Deep—I mean it’s like a sculpture in a museum, it’s goddamn perfect—and he gives this little snort of a laugh. He says: ‘Wow, look at that.’ And then he sits down at the table, opens his biography of King George V, and never mentions it again.”
This moment is real but it isn’t. Sitting outside in the warm, windswept Missouri midnight with a popstar you’ll never see again (an incorrect assumption) and stories you have no right to hear (so you believe).
Aegon takes another sip of his Salty Dog. “Not me,” he says with a puckish, sad half-smile. “I was never going to beg for someone to want me. I go wherever, I’m with whoever. No strings. No anchors. Nothing stays the same except the band, and that’s what bought me my freedom to begin with, so I don’t mind it so much. Me father is disgusted by me. But this is who I am. And I’d rather force him to watch me torch his legacy than break my back trying to earn love that was given away long before I was born.”
“Do you think that’s a part of why you have no interest in settling down?” you say. “I mean, commitment is a two-way street. And if you commit to someone, you have to trust that they’ll commit to you back. That they love you now, sure, but also that they’ll keep loving you. Maybe that’s something that’s difficult for you to accept. That someone could love you for more than an hour, a night, a day.”
He taps his Salty Dog against the tabletop, considering you, perhaps even marveling: wind in his blond hair, blood in his cheeks. At last he asks, teasing: “What are you, some kind of therapist?”
“Well, actually…in a year from now…” You feel uneasy assigning such significance to yourself—it feels inevitably pretentious, over-confident, unearned—but you can’t help returning his smile. “I sort of will be.”
~~~~~~~~~~
You’re laying in your bed with the French doors that lead out onto the balcony wide open. The breeze—sunny and warm and smelling of the bakery next to the hotel, croissants and baguettes and half a million different sorts of pastries—breathes in through the semi-transparent linen curtains, a great inhale, a sighing exhale. You can hear footsteps and laughing on the sidewalk outside. The tourists are a cross-section of humanity, with languages from across the globe: a sprinkling of Portuguese here, Arabic there, Mandarin and Hindi and Russian. When the wind flutters the curtains aside, you can see the Eiffel Tower across the Seine. You should be out exploring Paris, but you’re not. You can’t seem to get out of bed. It’s been almost one week since the fight in Reykjavik. You don’t speak to Aemond and he doesn’t speak to you, and everyone knows this but they don’t know why. Not the whole story, anyway. They caught snippets through the sliding glass door, but they didn’t hear what Aemond said to you.
You’re just a groupie. You’re just a slut.
And now Aegon’s words come back to you too: Whoever you are when you’re in high school…that’s sort of who you are forever, you know?
You pinch your eyes shut and roll onto your side away from the open balcony doors. Earlier you had gotten up, showered, deliberated leaving your room…and then immediately put back on your pajamas and crawled into bed. You have no idea where Aemond is now. He mopes around, he avoids you, he disappears on his 1960 Gold Star for hours, he takes notes in white ink, he takes calls on his iPhone.
There is the sound of a key—not a card, but a real, brass key, old and worthy of preservation just like the hotel—jangling in the lock of your door. Aegon steps inside. He’s FaceTiming someone in extremely poor Spanish.
“Adiós mi amor! Sí, te extraño. Claro que sí. Te extraño mucho. Vale, adiós. Hablamos pronto.” He hangs up and slips his iPhone into the pocket of his neon yellow cargo shorts. He’s wearing matching Crocs and a black Comet Donati band tank top. He pushes his aviator sunglasses up into his hair. “Hey.”
“Hey. Who were you talking to?”
“Camila Cabello. But she can wait.” He kicks off his Crocs and walks over to the bed, looking down at you quizzically. He tosses the brass key back and forth between his hands; Criston keeps the second copy of each one, so Aegon must have borrowed it from him. More likely, he thieved it. “You okay, Stargirl? You look stressed.”
“I am stressed.”
He grins, an eyebrow raised, sunburn on his shoulders. “Anything I can do to help with that?”
And you remember what he said to you back in Kansas City last June, a lifetime ago: I don’t think my worth is determined by who or how I fuck. I don’t think yours is either.
Aegon would never call you a slut. And even if he said it, he wouldn’t mean it in the way Aemond did. It wouldn’t be an insult, a belittlement, a curse. You watch him as he stands in the golden afternoon light, caring for you, wanting you in a way that is pure but not innocent. Do you want him too? Sure; Aegon’s beautiful, and you already know you have chemistry, and more than either of those things he is safe. But he’s not the one who keeps you up at night. He’s not the reason you thought, fleetingly and poisonously as you swallowed your birth control pill this morning: What a goddamn waste.
“Actually,” you say, peering up at him, your lips curling into a drowsy smile. “There might be.”
“Yeah?” He’s a little surprised but very enthused.
“Yeah.”
He whips his sunglasses out of his hair and sets them on the nightstand next to your souvenirs: the Colosseum pencil sharpener, the alabaster Apollo, the fighting bull refrigerator magnet, Portuguese soap and Austrian chocolate, the moose snow globe, the silica mud mask, the stuffed comet, the Eiffel Tower keychain you bought yesterday here in Paris, and if that’s cliché then so be it. The mattress shifts when Aegon climbs over to you, pushing up your oversized Jonas Brothers t-shirt. He touches his lips to the softness of your belly, bites lightly and playfully, gazing up at you through his shaggy hair as he works his way down to the waistline of your Cookie Monster pajama pants. And suddenly, you’re back in Kansas City a year ago, feeling the comforting, harmless heat of him in the downstairs bathroom of a rooftop bar, drenched in glowing florescence like moonlight, your back to a red wall and his mouth all over you, first above and then below, coaxing the darkness out of your veins like a shot of penicillin cures sepsis. He’s antivenom, he’s white magic, he’s a spell.
“You sure?” Aegon asks now, pausing as his fingers unravel the blue drawstring on your pajama pants like the bow of a Christmas present.
You reach down to knot a hand in his hair, wanting to be closer to him, and he smiles, knowing what you’re going to say before you say it. “I am so fucking sure.”
A resistless tug and your pajama pants have vanished. Aegon positions himself between your thighs and buries his face in the thin strip of fabric that still separates you, black lace you didn’t buy while thinking of him. Aegon inhales deep and slow. “Oh God,” he moans. “You smell just as incredible as I remember.”
His thumbs slip beneath the lace and whisk it away: the coolness of sudden air, the warmth of his tongue. You gasp, drowning in the best kind of sea, waves that cover splintering piers and razor-sharp barnacles, currents that erase memory. It’s exactly like it was before. It will always be this way with him, you know, you feel in your blood that carries all the same elements as his: iron, carbon, oxygen, nitrogen that builds DNA, hydrogen that ignites and burns. And just like that red-walled night in Kansas City, you are amazed by how quickly the ecstasy blooms in you, wispy and yet unbearably powerful, clearing thoughts and uncoiling muscles.
“Good girl,” Aegon murmurs with your wetness dripping from his lips, watching your face as he slides two fingers into you; his own eyes—murky blue puddles that hold few secrets—are entranced, rapturous. “Now come in my mouth, baby. I want to taste all of you again. I want to drown in it. Come in my mouth, can you do that for me?”
You can, and almost immediately: he plunges his fingers into you as he strokes you with his tongue and the rush is bliss yet superficial somehow, sunbeams on wave crests, without the kind of miles-deep tragedy, pining, promises that poets like to write about. Aegon notices the towel you’d draped over the desk chair after your shower and reaches for it to wipe his face with, but you stop him, drawing him to you by his tank top; and you drag your tongue up his chin and over his lips, tasting yourself on him, licking him clean. Then you take his fingers into your mouth and suck them until he looks like he’s going to pass out, like he’s going to forget how to breathe.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, and he kisses you just like he did a year ago, with an intense sort of need and his hand against your face, his flesh and blood hot and pressed to yours, palm lines on your cheekbone. He wants you in a way that is unburdened by pasts or futures; and who is anyone to condemn that? Perhaps that is the most painless form love can take.
And as the high dissipates, fog burned away at noon only to creep back in the next morning, Aemond returns to you: his words, his wrath, his flawed yet flawless face. You feel unexpectedly, overwhelmingly low. But this is not the time or place for tears; Aegon is still here.
Now I have to get him off too. Now I have to repay him. That’s fair, right?
“Just do it.” You fling one arm across your face as you look towards the balcony, breathing in Paris and daylight, spreading your thighs wider for him, anticipating the faint pressure-pain that will blossom into pleasure as his body melds with yours. “It’s fine. Go ahead. Just fuck me.”
But when your eyes drift back to him, Aegon still has his clothes on. He sits upright and traces the line of your jaw with his fingertips, studying you with uncommon quietness. “No,” he says softly. “No, I don’t think so. You look sad.”
You nod, unable to trust yourself to speak without your voice breaking.
Aegon sighs and flops down beside you on the bed, pulling you against him, whispering as his fingers twist in your hair: “Come here. Shh, shh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t help.”
“You helped, Aegon.” Just not quite enough.
He kisses your forehead, and then your cheek, and then he looks at you expectantly. “Are you finally going to tell me what he said? That night in Reykjavik? I heard you screaming something about Missouri, but I don’t think that’s what fucked you up so bad.”
You hesitate as you lie together in the sunlit stillness threaded with distant footsteps and passing cars, Aegon twirling strands of your hair, fondness and familiarity and longing that he is politely trying to ignore. Beneath his neon yellow shorts, he is rock hard.
“Now I’m really curious,” Aegon says, smiling has he kisses your forehead again, entangled with you like tendrils of grapevines, morning glory, ivy. “Aemond’s fucked up too. He’s been lying on his bedroom floor and listening to The Script. He hasn’t done that since he and Shelby split.”
Shelby, you think desolately, flinching. “You warned me about Aemond. You told me he was full of demons.”
“Yup. I’m glad I can’t read minds. It’s gotta be like Poltergeist in there.”
But everyone has a few skeletons in their closet, don’t they? Bones that won’t stop rattling. Teeth that gnash and crave. “He called me a slut.”
Aegon pulls back, brow furrowed. He looks at you, trying to decipher which nerve Aemond hit. It is not a word that Aegon considers to be derogatory.
“But it wasn’t really what he said, it was how he said it, like…like…like because of what I’d done with you a year ago, I didn’t matter anymore. Nothing about me mattered. That he could never respect someone like me. That I had deceived him into thinking I was someone worth wanting.”
Abruptly, Aegon leaves the bed. He grabs his sunglasses off the nightstand and pads across the hardwood floor in his bare feet, steps into his Crocs, slides his sunglasses over his eyes, fluffs his blond hair that hangs in chaotic waves.
“Aegon…?”
“Come with me,” he says, nodding towards the door. He pulls a piece of cotton candy flavored Bubble Yum out of his cargo shorts and tosses it into his mouth. “Right now. Put some clothes on and let’s go.”
“Go where?”
Aegon does not elaborate. He only repeats while chomping noisily on his gum: “Let’s go.”
You rush to the bathroom and are ready in five minutes: flip flops, tousled hair, a flowing turquoise sundress you bought yesterday while shopping at Hermès with Baela and Rhaena. “Okay, seriously, where are we going?”
“Out,” Aegon says simply. You follow him through the doorway and down the corridor; like a bloodhound after evidence, Aegon tracks laughter that drifts through the hallway to Daeron’s room. The youngest Targaryen brother is playing Uno with Jace and Baela; Daeron has just made Jace draw four.
Aegon smacks Daeron’s shoulder and demands: “Where is he?”
Daeron is startled. “Huh? What? Who?”
“Aemond. Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Aegon smacks Daeron again. “Where is he?!”
“I don’t know!” Daeron wails.
Mercifully, Baela intervenes. “Luke and Rhaena said they were going to the Eiffel Tower. Maybe Aemond went too…?”
“Cool,” Aegon replies. And when he sails out of the room, it’s not just you that goes with him; Baela, Jace, and Daeron file after Aegon as well, chattering conspiratorially. Aegon doesn’t wait for the elevator. He races down the grand staircase to the lobby: white marble floors and Oriental rugs, velvet armchairs and chandeliers, butlers scuttling and women hauling poodles around on taut leashes. Aegon strides past all of it without any interest. You follow him into the street outside and then across it, dodging taxis and limousines. Aegon believes crosswalks are optional. Next he locates the closest bridge over the Siene and traverses it.
“Are they gonna fight?” Jace asks Daeron excitedly. “You think they’re really gonna fight?!”
You plead as you hurry across the bridge, riverboats and swans gliding by below: “Aegon, I don’t want you to say anything to him.”
“I’m not going to say anything.”
“I don’t want you to shout anything either.”
Aegon peeks back at you, smirking wickedly. You know him too well. His pace picks up as he exits the bridge; next comes the vast stretch of gardens that surround the Eiffel Tower, strewn with picnicking tourists, fountains, ferns, lilies, roses, shrubs and trees and waddling ducks.
Jace gasps, euphoric: “Oh my God, they’re gonna fight!”
“Do you really see that ending well?!” Baela hisses back. “Aegon has to be on stage tonight! That’s not going to happen if Aemond snaps him in half like a KitKat!”
“Aegon, you can’t fight him,” you say, petrified. Aemond would win. Easily. Everyone knows that.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Aegon, please!”
“What the hell happened?!” Baela puffs as she jogs up beside you, clutching your arm, bewildered and alarmed. You shake your head. Too long a story, not one you wish to share, not one you entirely feel you have a right to disclose. You’ve only told Aegon, and how is that going to turn out? You don’t want people to hate Aemond. You don’t want to alienate him from the band any further. That might seem contradictory given his recent disregard for your own wellbeing, but it’s—however regrettably—true.
“This is going to be so fucking epic,” Jace says. “Wait, do I have time to get popcorn? I think I should grab some popcorn. Wait, wait, there’s a crepe stand right over there, just give me five minutes. Aegon? Aegon?! Man, please, just postpone the beatdown for five minutes!”
“I hope you can sing Aegon’s parts too,” Daeron tells Jace. “I don’t have them memorized.”
“Cregan can do it.”
“Cregan is going to flay you alive if he sees you encouraging this.”
“He can’t sing all our parts,” Jace replies sensibly.
Aegon battles his way to the front of the long line of people waiting to purchase tickets to go up into the Eiffel Tower. They grimace and jeer at him, hurling swears in a myriad of languages. When he reaches the ticket counter, an aghast employee begins to implore Aegon—“S'il vous plait, Monsieur, vous devez attendre votre tour!”—until she gets a better look at him. Her mouth pops open; her sky blue eyes go impossibly wide. “Oh mon Dieu…”
“You know who I am, right?” Aegon says impatiently. “Yeah, you recognize me. Okay. I need to get up there right now. Me and my friends. What can I do to make that happen? I have lots of credit cards. I can also sign your arm or tits or whatever. What do you want?”
The employee settles for a selfie with Aegon, Jace, and Daeron. Daeron smiles dazzlingly and poses with two thumbs up. Jace gives Aegon bunny ears. Then the five of you receive your tickets. This time, Aegon is willing to wait for the elevator; it’s over 600 steps to the second floor alone, and you’re all already winded from the walk here. Aegon gets off at the first level, does a lap around the tower—tall glass barriers and metal cages around the balcony, a café and a gift shop—and then reboards the elevator to ascend to the next floor. The second level is more open. There is a railing around the edge of the walkway of course, but it only comes up to your waist. Next to one of the tower viewers is who Aegon is searching for: Luke, Rhaena, Cregan, Criston…and Aemond. He’s wearing dark jeans, a black Calvin Klein t-shirt, vintage Adidas sneakers like the ones Freddie Mercury had at Live Aid, sunglasses to shield his damaged eye from photographers, and a fanny pack. He’s biting into a Golden Delicious, round and shiny; juice glistens on his lips. None of them have spotted you yet.
You hear Luke ask Aemond: “Bruh, this is really embarrassing. You’re worth like $100 million. Why are you eating apples and pecans out of a fanny pack?”
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find vegan food in Paris?”
Criston spies Aegon just as he’s closing in. He reads the fury on his face, his outstretched hand. “Don’t—!”
Aegon thrusts his palms against Aemond’s chest, hard, hard enough to force him back a couple of steps towards the railing. “Apologize,” he orders.
Aemond looks at you—for a moment, only a moment—and then back at Aegon. “For what?”
“You know what you did. Apologize.”
Everyone has gathered around. Criston’s dark eyes dart between Aemond and Aegon. He has a grip on Aegon’s shoulder, but he hasn’t dragged him away yet. He doesn’t know what this is about, and though he would never admit it…he’s intrigued. Cregan hovers close by; he lights a cigarette, taking advantage of Criston’s momentary preoccupation. Baela and Rhaena are gossiping in hushed voices. From behind his black sunglasses, Aemond stares at his brother, the wheels in his mind spinning. He doesn’t hit him, though he easily could. He doesn’t seem to have the spirit for it.
“Whoo!” Jace shouts, pumping his fist in the air. “Fight, fight, fight!”
Daeron mutters to Luke: “Are we taking bets?”
“Um, no?!”
“Right now,” Aegon tells Aemond, and shoves him again. “I mean it. I will push you off the Eiffel Tower.”
“Whoa, illegal!” Jace hoots. Cregan hooks a hand into the collar of Jace’s polo and yanks him back. “Hey, referee abuse over here—!”
“I will break your fucking arm,” Cregan growls.
“Okay,” Jace says. “Got it. No problem. I’m done now.”
“Apologize,” Aegon commands again, as if you’re the only people here: him, you, Aemond.
You are mortified. “Aegon, please don’t—”
“I’m sorry,” Aemond says. He’s looking at you again, and this time he doesn’t turn away. You wish you could see his eyes: windows to the soul, however clouded they might be. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you since Reykjavik. The gravity of it—his voice, his steady gaze, the gut-punch realization of how much you still want him—knocks all the words out of your skull. You sweep them up like a child collecting spilled coins in cupped hands.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” Aemond’s tone is benign, calm, like he’s already rehearsed this and has just been waiting for the opportune moment. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was speaking out of anger. It was impulsive of me, it was indecorous.”
What the fuck? Indecorous…? Who uses words like that in casual conversation? Incurably pretentious Aemond Targaryen, that’s who. “Thanks, I guess. You must spend a lot of time with your thesaurus.”
“Well, I write lyrics, so.”
“Yeah.” You wait for Aemond to add the most important part: that he was wrong about what he said, that it wasn’t true. But he doesn’t go there. He only apologizes for speaking it into existence, for vibrating the air with its treacherous molecules. “Okay,” you tell Aegon. “I think you got what you wanted. Can we go now?”
“Sure.” Aegon slaps Aemond across the back and gives him one final glare, swift but cutting.
“What’s a thesaurus?” Daeron whispers to Luke, who shrugs.
“Some kind of dinosaur…?”
“That’s alright, boys!” Jace says, clapping his hands. “Walk it off! Take a breather! Plenty of time for Round 2 later!” Cregan bends one arm behind his back. “Ow—!”
“No smoking,” Criston snaps, ripping the cigarette out of Cregan’s mouth and stomping it into ash.
~~~~~~~~~~
Hours later, after soundcheck, eating dinner in the gardens under the lengthening shadow of the Eiffel Tower, dark stripes that swallow up daylight like bathwater sucked down a drain. Everyone has a crepe that’s rolled up in wax paper, as Europeans serve it…everyone except Aemond, of course. He’s sitting by himself under a 200-year-old sycamore tree and gnawing morosely on a plain baguette that’s as long as his own forearm. His iPhone rings; he checks who it is and then silences the call. Luke goes over to sit with him, dripping whipped cream from his banana and Nutella crepe all over his white shorts speckled with sailboats. You keep trying not to look at Aemond. Each time you see him is like poking a bruise; it’s nothing but pain, but you can’t seem to stop.
“Oh wow!” Baela cries, beaming as she scrolls through her phone. “The Paris Opera Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliette this season!”
“Neat!” Rhaena says. “Like right now?”
“Yeah. We could catch a show before we leave next week.” She turns to Jace. “Baby?” And when he ignores her, she rubs his shoulder, her voice honeyed. “Jace?”
He groans. “Really? Ballet?”
Baela frowns. “I think it would be fun.”
“I think you can go without me.” Jace points to Aemond, grinning. “Take him, he likes archaic things. Hell, he is one now.” New lines appear in Aemond’s brow, but he gives no other indication that he’s heard this.
“You can’t spare one afternoon for me?” Baela says; and her words have turned from honey to battery acid. “Are you fucking serious? Do you know what I’ve given up for you?”
Jace sighs heavily. “I knew you were going to make this into a thing.”
“Me?! You’re the person who’s being unfair here, I’m asking for one afternoon—!”
“There’s literally no reason why you can’t go with someone who won’t feel like they’re being tortured for three hours.”
“Torture? That’s what my life’s work is to you? Torture?!”
“Well now I definitely don’t want to go anywhere with you if you’re going to act like this—”
“Act like what, like I want my boyfriend to occasionally show even a vague interest in something I care about—?!”
As they go back and forth, everyone else stares down at their dinner, actively dissociating.
Baela asks you: “You want to weigh in on this?” It’s not really a question.
You take a cagy bite of your baked apple crepe. “Um, honestly, I don’t really have much experience with couples counseling.”
“Great. Now’s your chance to acquire some.”
“Uh…” You eat some more of your crepe, slurp your citron pressé, a sort of do-it-yourself lemonade. Baela waits. Jace smirks at you, attentive but not for the right reasons. “Well. I guess what I can say is that it’s important for both people to have their interests valued and their needs met. So for every activity that Jace chooses, there should be roughly the same amount of time spent on something that Baela wants to do.”
“Yeah but I have a lot less free time,” Jace says. “Since…you know…I happen to be in a world-famous boy band in the midst of their third global tour.”
Baela pitches back: “Exactly, which has completely taken over my life, so I think if I could get just one fucking afternoon where you show me some minuscule amount of appreciation then that might be kind of nice, you know?”
“Jace,” you say gently. You can see on the periphery of your vision that Aemond is watching you, once again hidden behind sunglasses that you know he wishes he didn’t feel the need to wear. “It sounds like this is really important to Baela.”
He sighs again. “Baela, Baela, ballerina,” Jace muses, somewhat affectionately but without respect. “Okay. We’ll see. We might have time tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Baela agrees; but already she looks defeated. And she is not a woman who defeat comes naturally to. She’s been worn down by weeks, months, years of the same rote disappointment. She glances at a street vendor who’s selling falafel. “Hey,” she says to Rhaena. “Go get us some wraps.”
“Me?” Rhaena peers nervously at the falafel cart. “What if he only speaks French? Or some other language I don’t know?”
“Then point to the sign, you’ll figure it out,” Baela replies testily.
“I’ll go too, Rhaena,” you offer. “And you can order but I’ll stand there with you and help if any charades need to be done. Will that make it easier?”
“Sure,” Rhaena says. “Okay. Deal.”
And when you return ten minutes later, along with all the other food you have one order of plain falafel: no yogurt sauce, no wrap. You bring it to Aemond, who is stunned. “What’s this?”
“It’s vegan. Falafel is vegan. So here, your dinner just got a little more exciting.”
“Well…thanks.” He takes it with tentative hands.
“That’s so thoughtful of you!” Luke says cheerfully. “Do they have falafel in Kansas?”
“Missouri,” you correct. “And not really. But I ate a lot of it when I was at UChicago.”
This captures Aemond’s interest. “You went to UChicago?”
“Yes, Aemond. Shockingly, liking sex does not make women stupid.”
His iPhone rings: Mr. Brightside. Less than ideal timing. He rejects the call.
“Who was that?” Criston yells over.
“No one,” Aemond responds irritably.
“Your mom?”
“No, Criston.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She wasn’t the one calling, Criston!”
“Okay but I’m just asking, how is she doing like in general…?”
Back at the hotel, Comet Donati is getting ready for their first show in Paris: drinks in glasses, white lines on tables, hair and makeup, cigarettes and pills. You soak in your massive jacuzzi tub and stare up at the ceiling wondering: What am I doing here? What the hell am I still doing here?
But the thought of actually boarding a plane back to Kansas City is terrifying. Never seeing Aegon again? Never seeing Aemond again? Never seeing any of them except on YouTube or Spotify? You don’t want to leave their orbit. You don’t want to zoom off to the other end of the solar system just yet.
You wrap a towel around yourself and mosey out into the bedroom to get dressed. He’s there inspecting the souvenirs on your nightstand, chuckling and pushing them around with his knuckles, wearing a sequined blazer and skin full of ink: not Aegon, not Aemond, not Cregan, but Jace. You squeal, startled, and clutch your towel tighter around yourself. Unfortunately, it’s a very small towel. A very very small towel.
“These are neat,” Jace says. “So I collect tattoos and you collect souvenirs. We have so much in common.”
“We have exceptionally little in common. What do you want?”
He smiles, but never quite kindly. “What do you want?”
“I want you to take Baela to the ballet,” you say. “And I want you to get out of my room now.”
He turns all the way around to face you. He flings your moose snow globe from Stockholm into the air and then catches it, again, again. “Do you really?”
“Yes, Jace.”
And for a minute, or two, or what feels like forever, he doesn’t move. He just stands there staring at you, not moving any closer but not leaving either. Not listening to you. Not hearing you because he doesn’t want to. And you think, your heart hammering in your chest: At what point should I scream for Aegon or Criston? Will they hear me? Will they help me?
“Alright,” Jace says at last. He sets your moose snow globe back down on the nightstand, roughly, with a loud clunk. Then he walks across your room; but before he disappears through the doorway, he throws you a brass room key. Instinctively, you move to catch it, almost dropping your towel in the process. You snatch it back into place just in time. Jace is amused. Perhaps he planned it that way. “Aegon left that lying around,” Jace says, meaning the key. “Maybe you should be more discriminating when choosing who you give it to.”
“I didn’t give it to him. He took it from Criston.”
“Sure he did.” And finally, Jace leaves, as unwelcome as a funnel cloud or a hailstorm.
Aemond spends the concert in the shadows: pacing, taking his notes, ruminating over his many grudges. You spend it in the front row with Baela and Rhaena, wearing the neon yellow gown you found in Reykjavik. You try not to scan the arena for glimpses of Aemond. You fail miserably. Comet opens their concert with an interesting choice, an upbeat cover of Third Eye Blind’s How’s It Going To Be. When you ask Rhaena about it, she says it was Luke’s idea, which in your experience means it was almost certainly Aemond’s, or at least one that he enthusiastically endorsed. Daeron begins, peppy and animated, strutting across the stage:
“I’m only pretty sure that I can’t take anymore
Before you take a swing
I wonder, what are we fighting for?”
Aegon is next, characteristically a little sloppy, a little shaky, yet getting colossal cheers:
“When I say out loud
I want to get out of this
I wonder is there anything
I’m going to miss?”
Cregan’s voice is deep, sensuous, inviting yet with an edge like a blade:
“I wonder how it’s going to be
When you don’t know me?
How’s it going to be
When you’re sure I’m not there?”
Jace is technically the best singer, rich and smooth and nearly always pitch-perfect:
“How’s it going to be
When there’s no one there to talk to?
Between you and me
‘Cause I don’t care…”
And Luke leads the harmony as guitar notes pluck out of the monstrous speakers:
“How’s it going to be?
How’s it going to be?”
Aside from the cover, the setlist is the same as it’s always been since you joined the tour in Rome…but you’re experiencing it in a new way. You are needled by jealously every time you wonder what woman, moment, day, night inspired one of Aemond’s songs; you are nauseous with envy for everyone who’s ever been able to touch him. When they perform A Girl Named After A Car—which had previously always struck you as fun, light, unserious, perhaps satirical—you are consumed by a specific conspiracy theory. After fighting it for half of the song, you Google two words with your iPhone: Shelby car. Sure enough, there’s a vintage Mustang model called a Shelby. It’s gorgeous. It’s perfect for Aemond.
“Great,” you mutter to yourself.
“You okay?” Rhaena asks.
“Yeah,” you reply, slamming your phone back into your purse. “I’m awesome. I’ve literally never been better.”
“You don’t look awesome,” Baela says, smiling. “That’s okay. I’m not so awesome either at the moment.” She takes your hands and starts spinning you around the floor. “We can be hot bitter bitches together.”
It’s tradition for everyone to hang out after the concert, but you’re in no hurry to get to Jace’s suite; you certainly don’t want to be one of the first people to arrive. You don’t want to be alone with him. You walk very slowly, taking a detour to touch up your hair and makeup. As you are wandering a quiet section of the hallway, you observe that Aemond’s door has been left ever so slightly ajar. You peer inside to find it empty…but his notebook is on his nightstand.
No way, you tell yourself. No no no. Huge violation of privacy and respect.
“Oh yeah?” you object, barely audible. “And what would you call what he said to me?”
You go to the notebook and flip it open. Matte black pages slip beneath your fingertips.
“Just the first page,” you swear to yourself. “That’s all. Then I’m leaving.”
There’s a song written there; or, rather, partially written. He’s only worked out a verse and the chorus so far. Your eyes skim over it with lightning-flash quickness, cognizant that you cannot allow yourself to be caught. At the top of the page is one word in pale gleaming ink like pearls, opal, moonstone: Magic.
(Ver1) You walk into the room and I think:
How am I going to get you out of me?
Are you an infection, a lethal connection,
Or are you a fire to burn me clean?
“Nice,” you breathe, with hushed awe you wish you didn’t have.
(Chorus) Are you a witch or are you a spell,
Is loving you gonna be heaven or hell?
Black cats and white salt, ladders and doorframes
I think of magic every time you look my way
There are drunken, giggling voices and the sound of doors opening and closing in the hallway. You scurry out of Aemond’s suite and proceed to Jace’s before anyone thinks to come searching for you.
The room is thick with label executives and hangers-on, smoke and music; Watch by Maisie Peters is playing. She’s a friend of the band. You’re reasonably sure Aegon has hooked up with her, or at least aspires to. Speaking of Aegon, he is currently flitting around with Cregan. He stops briefly to say hi to you, a chilled emerald bottle of Kronenbourg 1664 in one hand, white powder on the other. He’s there and then he’s gone again. He might as well have been slingshotted to the other end of the galaxy. Criston is standing by the open balcony doors and talking to Daeron. Jace is at the bar laughing loudly—obnoxiously, hyena-like—with some mid-twenties guys you don’t recognize. Baela is glaring at him from one of the couches, seated next to Rhaena and Luke. But when she sees you, the rage vanishes from her face. She waves you over rather frantically.
“Look, I know this probably isn’t going to help your situation, but I just wanted to let you know that I am really, really hoping you’ll be willing to stay with us a little longer—”
“Yes! Totally!” Luke seconds, nodding.
“—And it’s not like we’re going to forget about you or prefer her over you or anything—”
“No, definitely not,” Luke says.
“What are you talking about?” you ask them. “Prefer who?”
Rhaena grabs your hand and squeezes it. You follow her eyeline across the room to the opposite couch, a mirage through warm smoke and icy dread. And you think: I should have known. I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course it would be here—in this city of Instagram models and Hallmark-card romance—that she would reappear like the moon growing large again after fading to a sliver, everything back in its rightful place, nature restored to harmony.
Sitting beside Aemond—on his good side, his unscarred side—is Shelby.
#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x y/n#Aegon Targaryen#aegon targaryen ii#aegon ii#Aegon Targaryen II x reader#Aegon II Targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader
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Double Penetration | WandaNat
ThePsycheWrites Kinktober
Entry One: Double Penetration
Mommy!WandaNat x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI ;; Literally only smut — double penetration, mommy kink, toy use, slight praise and degradation, bondage, spitting, vague mentions of sub space, kinda mean!mommies, pet names used (princess, angel, baby), not proof read oopsies!!
Word Count: 578
Authors Note: Surpriseeeee >:) Wanted to hop on this years Kinktober — but in the form of smaller drabbles / blurbs that are easier to write and get out. Not sure how many entries Ill do, but we shall see my spooky sluts 👻 Reblogs n feedback are highly appreciated <3
Main Masterlist
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The cold air that entered the cracked bedroom window provided a stark contrast to how hot and sweaty you were getting as you laid below your Mommies, wrists bound to the metal frame of the headboard, legs pushed against your chest as two large cocks filled your holes.
The larger of the two, Natasha’s favorite red silicone eight inch cock, was rammed to the hilt inside your leaking pussy. Wanda’s choice in toy, a deep purple six inch, was rocking in and out of your ass mockingly slow.
“Is our princess feeling full?” Wanda teased as she ran her free hand up and down the span of your thigh, her nails pressed firmly into your delicate skin to ensure she left a mark behind to inspect later.
Natasha hummed with approval. “Oh, I think she’s feeling very full. Our sweet angel can’t even speak. Isn’t that right?” She asked, her hand holding her upright by your face as her other was wrapped tightly at the base of the cock, dragging it through your fluttering pussy with a quickening pace.
They had reduced you down to a drooling mess, your eyes halfway shut and muffled whines coming from your mouth. Your lungs were filled with their scent, somewhere between salty sweat and a rich spiced vanilla. Somehow you managed a weak nod, jumbled blabs making their way out from your lips after. The two women chuckled at the headspace you were in, making mental notes to fill you up like this more often.
“Our girl is always so good, isn’t she, honey?” Natasha called to Wanda, who had her full attention on the silky juices that flowed from your pussy to the tight hole right below it, now stretched out around the toy cock.
She smiled though, a wicked flash of her teeth past her ruby tinted lips. “The best girl in the whole universe. I mean — just look at how well she’s taking us… quivering over her Mommy’s cocks like it’s her job.” Lowering her smile into a faint grin, she took her eyes away from where she was buried inside you, landing on your blissed out face instead. She tilted her head, pursing her lips before sending a trail of spit between your holes, watching as it mixed with your arousal and rolled down your ass. With the added slickness, she was able to push the cock in all the way, earning a choked sob from your precious mouth.
Wanda met Natasha’s gaze and exchanged a silent nod, the two of them now moving the toys in sync. Their pounding grew faster and faster, your eyes squeezing shut as your back arched off the bed. Save for the few broken whines and cries that came from you, you were almost entirely silent as you fell into an earth shaking orgasm, both of your holes pulsating from the climax. The toys were now fully coated in your cum, the wet sounds of them slapping against your skin filling the room.
You grabbed at Natasha’s arm as your orgasm began to dissipate to let her know to slow down, but she looked at you with a sneaky expression.
“Awh, did our princess really think we’d only make her cum once?” She cooed in a dark voice, airy laughs following the taunting words.
Wanda gave the underside of your thigh a harsh smack. “What a dumb little baby. Better catch your breath angel, Mommy’s getting out the strap next.”
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#mommy!wandanat#natasha romanoff smut#wanda maximoff smut#wandanat smut#kinktober#thepsychewrites kinktober#wanda smut#natasha smut
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Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a Brienne x fem reader fic? Kinda like a "It's getting bad again (with depression)" and stuff kinda thing? It doesn't have to be anything too detailed or graphic in that aspect, but Brienne comforts and cuddles reader and assures she'll be there? It can be set in game of thrones or some alternate universe where reader is a princess and brienne is her bodyguard, it's up to you :)
Only you.
Brianne of Tarth x reader
Warnings: depression, crying, numbness to extreme sadness, idk what else, comfort, no y/n, no beta we die like Larissa weems
A/n: it took me a little to get the creative juices flowing but I hope you enjoy it! Let me know how it is, this is my first fic (?) if it can be called that and I don’t hate it so that’s a win!
Playlist:
As a princess one could argue you had everything you ever wanted, you’d agree, while you were taught to be respectful and humble, you were still spoiled to death, all you had to do was ask for anything you wanted. So when your mental health became an issue your parents weren’t the most understanding, “how could you be so miserable, we’ve given you everything.” Coming to them clearly wasn’t an option, they weren’t bad, they just didn’t understand, and maybe didn’t want to.
You had one person you could confide in, that was your body guard. Brienne was hired by your parents when you turned 21 and started traveling outside the kingdom, of course she’s ordered to always be by your side, protect you but even when she didn’t have to you chose to be by her side.
The first day she didn’t see you after breakfast she took note of it and went to check on your room, knocked, waited a few minutes and got no answer, it wasn’t the first time, maybe you were with your parents or in the bath. However she didn’t see you for the whole day, or the next. she let it slide not wanting to seem pushy.
By the third day your parents came to her. “They aren’t talking to us, not coming for breakfast, lunch or dinner, we went into their room yesterday dinner time, they were still asleep.” That’s when Brienne decided enough was enough, she went back to your door and as she expected, no answer when she knocked.
“I’m coming through your window of you don’t at least show you’re alive”
and finally she got an answer
“go away Bri”
“Do you want me to break the door down? Your parents certainly wouldn’t mind, not in this case” she sounded genuinely upset and then a pause, and shortly after came a soft “..let me in, I wish to know you’re okay.”
And the door cracked open, you weren’t there though, and she stepped in carefully eyeing around the room the messy room then landing on you, ready to hide under your covers again.
“I thought they didn’t care” You mumbled out, your voice was hoarse, maybe from crying, maybe from not talking for three days.
“Clearly they do, they came to me assuming I’d know something about you, but I was just as clueless as them which isn’t common is it?” Brienne said in a concerned yet playfully tone by the end of it. Everyone knew how close you and her were.
You chuckled at that. “I’m sorry, I just.. I get these random thoughts sometimes, insecurities, doubts, fears, feels like it consumes every part of me, and for the most part I can handle it, but it’s just been getting worse so I figured maybe if I, isolate, it won’t consume anyone else”
Felt good to finally let it out, there’s more, so much more, but for now this was enough.
“Sometimes I feel really sad, sometimes I feel nothing at all, and I think that’s the worse one, just living in a state of nothingness and then being so depressed I can’t physically do anything” You finished, looking down at your hands.
“Can I join you?” She asked.
“Please.”
She sat on your bed, contemplating for moment before pulling you to her side wrapping an arm around you, she’s always so warm, comforting, you couldn’t help but nuzzle into her shoulder letting out a relived sigh.
“I don’t pretend to know everything that goes though that head of yours, but I know, to at least some degree what you’re going through, and you know that because you allow me to talk about it, so please, just talk to me, you know I will always be here for you.” Her voice was quiet, scared to say the wrong thing or push you away.
Now you fully curled up to her, her arms protectively wrapped around you as you hid into her shoulder and finally let your tears fall. It was quiet for a bit, just your sniffing and her shushing you, rubbing your back in slow patterns until you calmed down.
“Only you are allowed to see me be this much of a mess” you giggle letting your grip on her go.
“Only you are allowed to know I can be a mess” she replied back, smiling down at you.
She waited a second and then, “How about I update your worried parents that you are indeed alive and bring you some food and water?” To which you shook your head, your grip on her coming back.
“My love, I promise I’ll only be a minute, let me take care of you alright? It’s my job to keep you safe, even from yourself, when I’m back we can talk as much or as little as you want about absolutely anything you wish.”
For now you’re gonna ignore that petname she’s just trying to comfort you right? Anyways she left no room for argument, pouting you nodded at her and let her go. She was back with a tray of your comfort foods and a jar of water and two cups, she kept her promise, you stayed in all day, talking, a little crying, joking around and telling stories.
She was truly the only one your heart ever let in.
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Taking Care of You (Strade/MC (and kinda Ren) BTD fic)
a sister fic for yesterdays! Same soft, fluffy, domestic themes. Though I feel like maybe its turned out rather bland lol.
Contains: Strade, Gender Neutral MC, Ren
Strade had recovered from his flu within a few days, and for another few, he thought perhaps he had spared both Ren and you from contracting it. Then one night, while the two of them were watching one of Ren’s shows, he heard a sniffle. Then a cough.
It seemed to grow even worse overnight, his dreams filled with the sounds of retching after a bout of coughing, until in the morning… He found both you and Ren laid up on the living room couch, barely giving him a glance when he came in. The TV was on again, but instead of one of Ren’s shows, it was playing some morning crime drama. Classic Sick TV.
Strade placed both his hands on his hips, staring at his miserable pets before letting out a long sigh.
“I’m heading to the store. Do you two want anything?” he asked. He’d better grab some more cough medicine.
“W-Watermelon, and juice.” you mumbled, your hand covering your eyes. You seemed to have a headache. Ren was in no better shape, barely lifting his head off the arm of the couch.
“Throat tea, and soup.” Strade took mental notes, and turned around. His house was turning into a petri dish, once everyone was feeling better he’d probably want to lysol everything in the house.
It was a bright, sunny morning, and not wanting to eat breakfast in a house full of germs, Strade stopped to get himself a coffee and bacon sandwich, making sure to stuff several crumpled bills into the tip jar as he made conversation with the cashier.
The store wasn’t too busy, Strade had no issues finding a parking spot close to the doors. He figured that was normal for a monday morning, most people had work to go to. Speaking of work… He should probably host another stream soon, not just for the money, but to keep the audience around. If he shut down for too long, they’d probably find someone else.
Also, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to mess with you or Ren while you were both so ill. He’d felt the itch growing the moment he started feeling better, he’d probably need to go out hunting soon.
Grabbing a shopping cart, Strade made his way through the store, first making sure to grab a few new containers of cough medicine. Remembering your request, he picked up a container of pre sliced watermelon.
He remembered once bringing that home, and earning some criticism from you.
“It’s much cheaper to just buy a whole melon! I’ll cut it myself!” He chuckled to himself, imagining you trying to hold a knife in a shaking hand, getting out of breath just cutting the melon in half. He wasn’t entertained enough by the idea though to consider making you eat your words, and kept the pre sliced stuff in the cart.
As he made his way past the deli, he paused. Ren had requested soup… Strade had originally planned on just grabbing several cans of the stuff. He wasn’t much of a cook, after all. At the deli section they had tubs of soup. It wouldn’t be as good as homemade, but it’d be a lot better than what tasted like a nuked can of salt water.
He wrapped up his shopping, grabbing the tea and juice his pets had asked for, as well as another case of beer. He could never have too much of that in the house.
As he loaded the items into the car, he pulled out his cellphone and called the house. Only one person had the number to his house phone. And that one person was him.
“Strade…?” a gravelly voice answered, it took Strade a second to register it as your voice.
“I’m on my way back, Schatz. I’m gonna pick up a movie for us to watch together, what do you wanna see?”
“Huh?” He could practically hear the cogs grind against eachother as your fever rattled brain tried to think. “I don’t know, whatever is good… And, Strade?”
Your voice cleared up a bit, Strade could tell they were about to say something they’d been reciting in their head.
“Thank you, for uhm, taking care of us.” Strade paused. There was a finality in your voice. This wasn’t just a thank you for him picking up a few groceries, it was a thank you for everything he’d done.
He gave a soft chuckle, shutting the trunk of the car.
“It’s no problem, Schatz. I enjoy it.”
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I just thought of another thing in the shower about how easy it was for miles to kill duke and how it further shows how little he care for anyone other than himself. (And Kinda shows how all his friends are self centered) and im not even talking about the emotional or mental toll it takes to kill a person.
Miles never originally planned on killing duke. At least not at the party. But when duke forced his hand all it took was for mile to poor some pineapple juice in his drink.
A Pineapple allergy which is apparently so severe a drop is enough to kill him
An allergy that miles was fully aware of but had no issue about still having pineapple juice with all the drinks, making it so so easily for cross contamination to happen. (Honestly up until the reveal i thought thats what happened, that his death was just a coincidence. A byproduct of miles apathy about his “friends” well being)
Dukes murder was just miles lucking out on his carelessness about having the perfect murder weapon on hand.
Side note: I could be wrong on this but its worth noting that the only person besides miles that seems aware of this allergy was his gf despite them all being friends for years
#also the guy carries a gun everywhere but not an epipen#could be wrong on the last part but the gf was the one that seems to react the most at the reveal#and I totally believe that the others completely forgot about his allergy#glass onion#netflix glass onion#detective benoit blanc#beniot blanc#miles bron#whiskey glass onion#glass onion whiskey#duke#duke cody
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Kad nemam tebe sa mnom su moji demoni
Part 2
PAIRING: Kris Guštin/Damon Baker
WARNINGS: (kinda implied) drug and alcohol abuse, implied non-con (not between Kris/Damon), sex (not too explicit), hurt/comfort, angst/fluff, swearing
WORDS COUNT: 2.713
LINK: AO3
NOTES: Still thanking @anxious-witch for beta-reading it!
This is the second and last chapter. There's still angst, but things get better, trust the process!
The next day Damon woke up before Kris and decided to make a good breakfast for him. It was easier to talk to him when he had his stomach filled with good food. He brought a tray with the breakfast in the bedroom, then tried to gently wake up his friend.
Kris opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Damon’s face with a soft smile. “Good morning, beautiful.”
The demon stretched and yawned. “You know I hate that nickname.” He mumbled.
“I know, but it suits you. The other one is princess, so...”
He laughed a bit. “Princess is cuter.” That smile disappeared immediately after. They were behaving like a couple, but they weren’t one. They couldn’t be one.
Damon grabbed a huge tray with cookies, pancakes, a hot coffee and a glass of orange juice. A sumptuous breakfast which he didn’t deserve.
“I-It’s too much, Damon.”
“It’s all for you, Kris. You need to eat after whatever happened to you yesterday.” He was deadly serious.
Kris sat up and started eating. He was starving. Well, he didn’t need that kind of food, but it was still a guilty pleasure he had, a memory of his long-lost human life. In the meantime, Damon kept stroking his hair with a gentle touch.
For some moments their eyes met. Damon’s were filled with concern and kindness. Kris’s were lost, that usual gloom was now leaning towards despair.
Damon’s hand cupped Kris’s face. “I’d like to talk about something with you.”
Kris lowered his eyes. “W-What do you want to talk about?” And mentally he was begging whichever deity to not talk about the day before. He didn’t want to revive it.
“I saw something strange around you yesterday. And on the photos of you I took months ago.”
“W-What did you see?”
“You had wings. And I saw them yesterday too, right after that thunderbolt. They are like shadows behind your back. What... what is this? Are you some kind of supernatural creature?”
Kris went pale and his eyes opened wide. “W-Wings?”
Damon nodded, then took his laptop and showed him a couple of pictures.
Kris’s world collapsed under his feet. He made every effort to keep his true nature hidden from humans, but a simple photographer was able to capture them in his amazing photos.
His sire would be furious. “Delete them.” He said immediately, panic in his voice. “Cancel every picture you have of me. Now.”
“Kris, what’s wrong? You came here last night high on drugs, you should have been dead and instead you are here, eating breakfast. I’m not crazy, I saw those wings, and even a weird tail. What-”
“Forget everything you saw.” He snarled. Panic now had completely taken over his mind.
“No.” His voice was imperative. “I won’t forget nor delete anything. You are one of my dearest friends, and maybe even something more. I want to help you because I lov-”
“Don’t you dare say those words! You barely know me.” Kris replied with a stirred-up voice.
“And in these months you became so special to me. I care about you, deeply. I lov-” Damon tried to say again.
“You can’t love creatures like me!” Kris shouted interrupting Damon, tears in his eyes while standing up from the bed. “What you are feeling is not love, can’t you fucking understand?!” He felt his heart shrink. “I can’t be loved, whatever you are feeling for me...can’t be real.” He shook his head while squeezing his eyes to not let other tears escape from them.
“It’s you the one who doesn’t understand. Just because you lost yourself and you put up a bad boy attitude, you aren’t impossible to love.” Damon said, standing up and approaching him. His voice was uncomfortably soft. Even tender. “I don’t care who or what you are, Kris. I lov-”
Kris felt a chain winding tighter and tighter around his neck. His sire was calling him.
“Stop it.” He hissed, trying to sound aggressive. “Shut up! You don’t understand, you will never understand!” He shouted again. “I made my own hell, I created it and I can’t escape it.”
Damon observed those teary eyes. He saw once more that sadness, that desolation, that turmoil he noticed while looking at the pictures he took. He saw a caged animal, resigned by its condition, a shy request to be put down because only death could release it from the pain its chains and bars were causing.
“There’s always a way out, Kris.” He cupped his face and gently stroked his cheeks covered in tears.
Kris shook his head again. “Not from the situation I put myself into, years ago.” He then turned and ran away from Damon, from his only friend’s house, more tears escaping from his eyes. He didn’t care he was wearing only a t-shirt and some underwear.
He couldn’t be loved. He was a succubus. He had been a human in the past, then met a demon and sold him his soul because he wanted to be young and beautiful forever. He didn’t realise what he was agreeing to at that time, he was young and the demon charmed him with that promise. He had been created to inspire lust in humans, to bring them to perdition, to damn their souls for his sire.
He opened his wings to fly away but stumbled and fell on the ground instead. The chain around his neck appeared, tight and heavy as always.
“Where are you going, darling? We have work to do today.” His sire was right in front of him. Kris lifted his eyes from the ground. “I’m glad how you handled that poor and delusional human. He was just distracting you from your job.”
“Y-yes, sire.” He swallowed his saliva that burned down his throat like he just ingested poison. He stood up and tried not to show that he was shaking.
“You are a good boy, my little Kris.” He sneered malignantly and petted his head like he was a dog.
“P-please... I can’t do it anymore...” Kris begged him. He was crying. “P-please-!”
“You should have thought a century ago before signing my contract, then.”
* * *
In the next few days, Damon tried any possible way to contact Kris, but he never answered. Not even once. It seemed that he disappeared into thin air, like he never existed at all. He even tried to go to the places where they usually hung out together, but he found no trace of him.
At home he kept looking at Kris’s photos. He wasn’t scared of the existence of supernatural creatures, no. He knew Kris, he wasn’t afraid of him. He...loved him? He certainly felt a special connection with him since he first saw him in that cafe months before.
Yeah, he was deadly gorgeous, he admitted it multiple times in his mind, but it was those melancholic eyes that really captured and bewitched him. He wanted to dive into them, get lost in their amazing blue-greenish colour.
His mind showed him that memory when he straddled Kris’s laps to put some golden make-up around his eyes to take some pictures of him. He remembered his smile, his laugh, his feeble attempts to move him, the lightness of that moment between them really made Kris shine. For a moment they both locked their eyes, Damon’s as dark as coal and Kris’s as bright as the ocean around tropical islands. Damon wanted to kiss him so bad, but he forced himself to throw away that thought and to continue what he was doing.
He missed him. A lot. His heart seemed to have lost a piece since he vanished. He needed to find him again, so he started doing his research about creatures with horns, bat wings and some sort of tail. When he finally found something, he had an idea. And he hoped it worked.
Some days after Kris found himself sitting on the end of a pier. He was staring at the horizon, the sun was setting and its light stained the water with shades of red, orange and yellow. A very romantic view indeed. Damon would have loved to take some pictures, he thought.
“Stand up, you have been requested.” His sire appeared right behind him.
“Someone requested me? Personally?” He asked.
“Yes, my lovely Kris. And you’ll definitely like him.” He sneered. “Come on, he’s waiting for you.”
When they arrived at the appointed place of the meeting and Kris saw who his new lover for the night was, he petrified.
“No, no, no, please, I can’t do it with him...” He started begging his sire. “He-”
“Yes, it’s your lovely photographer.” The demon looked at Kris, sneering. “He wanted you, he asked specifically for you, Kris. And you’ll give him what he requested.” He grabbed his chain and drew him closer. “You’ll comply without asking further questions, ok?”
Kris was shaking, but he gave up. “Y-yes, sire.” He replied, closing his eyes and nodding.
“Good boy. He has a soul so pure and you have the honour to start corrupting it. Now go on and do your fucking job, bitch.”
When Damon noticed Kris approaching him, he showed a tender smile on his face. “You are here.”
“Why?” The succubus asked. “Why did you ask for me?”
Damon cupped his face and looked him in the eyes. “Because it was the only way I had to see you again.”
“B-but your soul-”
“I don’t care about it. I won’t go to heaven anyway. And I don’t want to go there if you are not with me.”
“You don’t know what you are asking for, Damon.”
He gently stroked Kris’s cheeks. “I don’t care.” He repeated. “You are here, that’s the only thing that matters, now.” He then grabbed one of his hands. “Come home.”
Kris let Damon escort him to his bedroom. Nothing changed in that place since he last saw it.
The photographer made Kris sit on his bed, then straddled him and hugged him tightly. “I-I missed you so much...” He whispered with a shaking voice.
Kris responded and hugged him too. He closed his eyes. He was relieved that he could have a peaceful night, but he felt guilty because that meant only one thing, that he was about to ruin him, his only friend. And he didn’t want to.
Damon stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead.
“Do what you have to do, Kris.” He whispered and looked at him right in his eyes. “I only hope this night will be a good one for you.”
In that moment their lips touched slightly. Damon wasn’t demanding anything, he was just leaving Kris in control. He moved his hands on Damon’s back while kissing him with more passion.
They kissed and kissed, slowly undressing each other. The clothes fell on the floor of the room, one after the other. Kris gently pushed Damon and made him lay down on the bed.
“Show me your true form, Kris.” He whispered, breathless. “Please. I’d like to see you, the real you.”
This request surprised Kris. But Damon was his master for that night and he couldn’t refuse. He took a deep breath, then let his true form change his appearance: in his hair two black curved horns popped up, on his back two black bat wings opened, a tail with an arrowhead end began moving behind him, his teeth and his nails became sharp and pointed.
Damon cupped his face and observed his demonic aspect. “You, wonderful, magnificent creature.” He whispered.
“I’m not magnificent.” He shut his eyes.
“Yes, you are. In this form and in your human one.” He caressed his cheeks with gestures filled with love and kindness. “My love, look at me, please. I want to get lost in those gorgeous blue eyes of yours.”
And the demon opened wide his eyes. No one treated him like Damon was doing. He was so used to being mistreated and abused by his lovers that tears invaded his eyes. Damon noticed his reaction and hugged him, making him lay over his body. He gently stroked his hair again.
“It’s ok, Kris. Everything’s ok. You are safe here.” He whispered with a tender voice.
How was he worthy of this? He was a demon, he was a damned soul, he didn’t deserve this heaven. And he was about to destroy this human. How could he be this cruel? He raised his head and met Damon’s eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Kris.
Every new kiss led to caresses and to intertwined souls guided by pleasure. Moans, whines, names gently whispered by breathless voices, bodies sliding against bedsheets and against each other were the only sounds in that room. Both reached their climax at the same time.
Kris crumbled on top of Damon, his limbs unable to keep him above his lover. He felt strong and exhausted simultaneously.
He raised his head and met Damon’s eyes, filled with fulfilment and something else he had difficulties to identify.
“My beautiful, ravishing demon.” He said, smiling. He kissed him again on his lips, tenderly. “My demon, my muse, I love you.”
Kris’s body stiffened. He heard a scream in his head, a roaring “no!” from his sire. His chains materialised around his neck and his master appeared in the room with the other end of the chains on his hand.
Damon observed the scene, confused and a little bit scared. He turned to the newcomer. “What-”
“How dare you?!” The other demon shouted. He was about to tug Kris, but the links broke and turned into dust. “No!” Kris’s contract appeared, levitating between his demon sire and the bed, then immediately burned down.
Kris felt free. He quickly touched his neck, there was no trace of the chains. But was he truly free?
His sire was furious. Kris engaged in a defensive stance, ready to protect Damon from the other demon, but he only threw a rageful glance at his former slave and in the end disappeared in a red cloud of smoke.
“What just happened?” Damon asked, visibly confused.
Kris turned to the photographer. “I think you freed me from my sire. He made me a succubus, a century ago.” He simply answered, still trying to process these last moments. “I don’t feel his control over me anymore.”
Damon giggled a bit, then cupped Kris’s face. “Love really is the strongest feeling. It rescued a demon.” Then kissed him on the lips. “My demon.”
* * *
“Hurry up! We are going to be late for the photoshoot!” Damon shouted from outside the bathroom where Kris was preparing himself.
He started living with Damon right after his liberation, also because he had nowhere to go, his home was in hell and he didn’t want to go back there, unless it was necessary. He was now a free succubus, no one controlled him. Besides, their love protected his now boyfriend from corruption, his soul was still immaculate.
“I didn’t know vanity was a characteristic of your kind of demons.” Damon giggled. He was at the door of the room, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed against his chest.
Kris looked at him through the mirror, smiling. “I’m still a demon and my appearance is my pride.” He replied.
“Come on, vanity demon, the guys are already waiting for us.”
“Who are we meeting today? I don’t remember their name.”
“Oh, it’s a local band. It’s called Joker Out.”
“What a dumb name.” He giggled.
“Try and say this in front of them, then we’ll see their reaction. The singer might punch your pretty face.”
Kris shook his head, then went with Damon to the place they chose for the shooting.
* * *
Hi, my name is Kris. I’m a demon, a succubus to be precise. I was once a human, but over a century ago I sold my soul to a demon lord, my former master. I was a slave for him, but a human freed me thanks to his love. This human is now my boyfriend, we live and work together. His name is Damon.
I have been free for 365 days and today Damon and I celebrate our first year together. I am grateful for my new life.
#damkris#kris guštin#annies writes#my writing#joker out fanfic#joker out#kad nemam tebe sa mnom su moji demoni
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𓆩♡𓆪 episode two: The Torch.
first day on the job and y/n is already a needle mover??? icon behavior fr fr. i know it took a little for this ep to come out but i rly hope y’all like it 🫶🏽 it’s also kinda long my bad i got carried away lmao lmk what y’all think tho‼️
“i have an offer to make”
this couldn’t be bad. …well
it’s Vince McMahon. only so much can go wrong.
“surprise me” you challenge.
“so, one of our women, Alundra Blayze to be specific, she hasn’t been .. the most cooperative. we haven’t been seeing eye to eye exactly regarding her contract and we’ve decided to terminate it. that means tonight will be her last Raw” he said.
you could feel that he was pointing to something, but to be completely honest, you had no idea where this was going. again, this is Vince McMahon, anything can happen. you’ve heard of Alundra before and have seen some of her matches. she’s pretty damn good.
Vince leaned back in his chair, “I have no issue with her leaving the company, the only issue is that she’s currently the women’s champion, and she’s considering signing with WCW” he explained.
“okay..?” you mumbled, confused.
“I want you to become the women’s champion” he stated.
your eyes widened, and you aggressively blinked shocked at what he was saying. “you want me as champion?” you ask, he nods. “this quickly?” you ask again and he nods. he looked a bit angry and seemed quite pissed at the fact that Alundra is leaving.
“has anyone won a title on their debut match, like .. ever?” you ask
“why don’t you be the first one?” he suggests.
that sounded insane. it two ways.
you were concerned about how Alundra would react to being stripped off of her title. did she know this was going to happen? was she okay with it? not that it mattered really, it was her last day her anyways, but you couldn’t help but over think.
on the other hand, you felt giddy. excited. you were going to debut, and win the women’s title on the same night? sounds like absolute fun. hopefully the WWF crowd reacts well, you just needed their support and that’s all that matters.
“are you sure this is a good idea? i don’t want the crowd to turn on me on my first day” you hesitantly say. he shakes his head, “don’t worry about it, they’ll love you. i just need to know if you’re on board” he says.
“i’m in” you say, you can almost see the cogwheels turn in Vince’s head as he looks down at his desk.
“i have a lot planned for you, you know?” he says, half zoned out. you smile, “that’s great to know”.
2:37 pm, catering.
“so what did Vince want?” Lita asked. should you tell her? it’s not like she’s not going to know, everyone will at the end of the night.
but what if Vince was using this as an opportunity to know wether or not you’re the type to blab about plans publicly?
“Y/n?” Chyna asked noticing you zoned out, “oh, we just talked about my debut later” you answer, sipping on some orange juice. you weren’t exactly lying, but you also didn’t want to spoil the show.
“that’s cool” Chyna said, “i hope we work with each other a lot” she added. “yeahhh” Lita smiled. “is this what you’re wearing later?” Chyna asked. you look down at yourself, you completely forgot that you’re still wearing your unofficial gear.
“i’m still figuring it out” you fix your hat, “i want something that’ll scream ‘y/n is here!’ y’know” you say. Chyna hums, “i think you should get something custom made” she suggests.
“any ideas?” you ask, Lita sits up. “shorts! but leather, kinda like same design as my pants, but shorts, y'know. and a top like Chyna’s, keep the coat ‘cause it looks cool” Lita says.
“i think the top should be white instead of black, to make it resemble you New Japan gear” Chyna said. “oooh, what if i wrap a white ribbon around the hat and wear white boots with my name on them?” you propose. “see that sounds pretty!” Lita says.
the mental image of that looks really pretty. “how am i supposed to get those done quickly though?” you ask.
“i have someone that’ll do it, don’t worry about it” Chyna winked.
these two are the real ones.
all three of you continued chatting about random segments and matches Chyna and Lita had, until you were interrupted.
“excuse me Y/n?” a staff member approached you, “yeah?” you reply, “there’s someone who would like to see you” he stated.
you look back at the girls concerned and they mirror your look, “okay” you say getting up. you walk behind the staff member down the hallway, until you’re lead to the … rehearsals ring hall?
“there” he pointed towards one of the rings, “thanks..” you say slowly stepping in. you walk towards the ring the man pointed at, and you can see someone sitting there. they look at you, getting up and leaning against the top rope. is that…?
“you’re Y/n, right?” she asked.
Alundra Blayze.
the blonde had a smile on her face, but you can tell she looked tired. “yeah! nice to meet you!” you smile, stepping in between the ropes. she gave you a hug which took you by surprise a bit, but after all, you’re the one taking her spot as champion. you might as well warm up to each other.
“i’m assuming Vince told you..?” you say, you both sit down on the ring mat. she chuckled, “i wish he told me directly” she began. “overheard him discussing it with one of the producers” she explained. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, if he can tell you directly, he can tell her too.
“well that’s rude” you say taking off your hat putting beside you. “and unprofessional” she adds. “i wanted to discuss with you our match later, ‘cause if i’m gonna go out, i wanna go out with a bang y’know?” she said. you nod, “oh yeah, i get it”.
you both began building your match. Alundra would go out and issue an open match to any who wished to get a shot at her title, then you’d come out. you were responsible for the highflying spots in the match and she would bring in some technical wrestling.
you both found yourself fantasizing about spots you’d like to do, it felt really good knowing that you both were on the same page before even meeting each other.
she seemed like such a sweet person, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad about her leaving.
“Y/n” she said, she look very determined yet a bit upset. there was change in the air. everything felt very serious all of a sudden. “yeah?”
“i know we barely know each other, but i want you to promise me” she began, placing her hand on your shoulder. oh, this is that kind of serious.
she got up and jumped off of the ring, you couldn’t see what she was doing but she seemed to be grabbing something. as soon as she sat back down next to you, you knew where this was going.
she placed the women’s championship between you.
“do not let this belt lose it’s value” she said, looking deep into your eyes. “i’ve seen a lot of your work in Japan, and i know what you’re capable of. Vince never took women in wrestling seriously, and I want you to change that. I want you to be that change” she explained.
“there’s no place for women in this company” she sighed “but there soon will be, i trust you with the championship. I hope you can put some respect on our name in this industry”.
it felt like a lot of weight was placed on your shoulders, but she was right. you’re here to wrestle and to make a name for yourself. everyone deserves respect in this business, everyone. women deserved a chance, and it’s time to make some changes around here.
“I promise”.
9:00 pm, RAW.
“it’ll only be six minutes, and that’s the end of it!”
you and Alundra just left gorilla after arguing with Vince about your match. he wanted it to only be six minutes but the match you planned was twenty minutes long, now way will you have even began the match at the six minute mark.
you both were very fucking angry. this was Alundra’s last match was your debut match, the least he can do is be a little generous. but okay.
okay.
you knew what you were going to do, this match is twenty minutes and it will be twenty minutes, because you fucking said so.
“what are we gonna do now?” Alundra asked. it wasn’t looking good for you two, but what looked good was tonight’s card.
UNDERTAKER VS. GIANT GONZALES
THE HART FOUNDATION VS. THE ALLIED POWERS
*ALUNDRA BLAYZE VS. Y/N Y/L/N (women’s title)*
OWEN HART VS. THE RING MASTER.
1-2-3 KID VS. RAZOR RAMON
FAROOQ VS. GOLDUST
BIG VAN VADER VS. BAMBAM BIGELOW
D'LO BROWN VS. AHMED JOHNSON
SYCHO SID VS. SHAWN MICHAELS
your match was right after the Hart Foundation's and you knew you could get Bret to do something. now, you weren't going to ask him to talk to Vince about it, because if you're the one wrestling and he's doesn't want to listen to you, he obviously will not listen anyone else.
"stay here, I'll be back" you say. you quickly jog your way to the men's locker room as show had began and the first match was about to start. you knock on the door and Bret and Jimmy come out to. "I need y'alls help" you breathe out.
you explain the predicament that Vince put you in and they are both visibly agitated by Vince's decisions. "now, I may be asking for too much but is there anyway you guys can shorten your match?" you ask.
both men are quite for some time, and it feels like all it's over.
Bret hums, "how much time do you need?" Jimmy asks. you're a little surprised, "wait really?" you ask, "and don't worry about Davey and Lex, I'll tell them" Bret said, hand on your shoulder. "like ten, twelve minutes" you say.
"you got it" Jimmy said.
"I owe you one, big time" you sigh, "don't stress it" Bret pats your head.
both men make it back into the locker room and you can hear Bret call out to Lex and Davey. thank god for them.
you jog back to Alundra, who was anxiously standing where you left her playing with her hands. "I bought us time! we'll do it all" you smile and Alundra physically relaxes. "thank fuck, oh my god". you quickly run her down through what's going to happen, before hearing your name being called from down the hallway.
you look behind you and it was Chyna and Lita, "just another moment please'" you say. you head in their direction and they spot you. "what's up?" you ask, "your gear is ready!" Chyna says handing you some folded clothes, "c'mon, I need to see you in it" Lita enthusiastically said.
everything was going great.
9:20 RAW.
you and Alundra closely watch the boys' match, you look down at your watch. it's going to end any moment now, right now, come on...
Bret slipped through the ropes and landed outside the ring, the referee ran out to check on him, and almost immediately held up the 'X' sign. you both jump to your feet, "we should stand by gorilla, right?" Alundra asked, you didn't hear what she said. you were concerned that Bret was actually hurt, but a part of you wanted to believe that that was his way to end the match early.
"y/n?"
"h-huh? oh yeah, let's go"
as soon as you approached gorilla all you could hear is chaos. from doctor's rushing to check up on Bret, to Vince freaking out over the time that was going to be wasted.
you pass by Davey, Lex, and Jimmy who winks at you.
he must be okay.
"BRING ME Y/L/N AND BLAYZE!" Vince bellows, "WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY? WE CAN'T STOP HERE!" he screams. you smirk at each other, before entering gorilla with innocence as a halo above your heads.
"what happened?" you ask, lips in a barely visible pout and brows furrowed. "is he okay?" Alundra asks referring to Bret. "LISTEN, listen. I need you two to go out there right now" Vince explained, "the show can't stop." he adds.
it was so funny seeing him panic over an episode of RAW, what would he have done if this was a pay-per-view?
"can we use up the extra time?" you ask, Vince answers without thinking, "do whatever the fuck you want, just put on a goddamn show!" he says settling back into his seat.
"are you sure?" Alundra asks, "will you draw me money?" Vince asks. you quickly nod, "you got it" you say.
less than a minute later, Blayze was out in the ring. you fluffed you hair and adjusted your boots. 'Y/N' was written on them, on the waistband of your new shorts and the ribbon on your hat.
you breathed in, then out. you felt more excited than anything.
"to any woman back there, if you want to try to beat me for this championship, this is your chance. come at me, no disqualifications, so you can do whatever you want. this is an open challenge and any of you are welcome" she boasted.
the tips of your fingers began feeling tingly, and you couldn't contain your smile. you began fiddling with the microphone you were handed.
then your New Japan theme hit.
as you walked out onto the ramp, your pyro went off, and that was the loudest crowd pop you've ever heard. it was so loud, and they cheered for so long. the fireworks made for such an amazing visual, and your titantron displayed your standing at the top of the ramp with a huge smile.
it felt so good being in front of a crowd again.
you walk down towards the ring, and bring the microphone to your mouth. "you said anyone?" you smirk, and crowd cheers again.
"anyone." Alundra nods.
you both throw your microphones to the ground and you slide into the ring. you take off your coat and hat, and the referee rings the bell.
and to say that the fans were invested in every last thing you two did, would be an understatement.
from every kick, to every punch. every flying elbow to every submission hold. this was the first women's match to truly feel like one in a hot ass minute, and they way you were fighting each other made it feel like the title meant something to you both.
it was so fun. it was your first night here and the fans felt fully invested in your match.
and everything got more interesting when the fight moved outside of the ring. you picked Blayze up and put her right through that damned spanish announcement table, to a thunderous pop. Jim Ross and King Lawler's commentary made it all the better.
you threw her back into the ring and locked in and 'Bank Statement', and another pop deafened you. you were facing the main camera, and Alundra began reaching out to the lower ropes only for you to shift your weight on her and move your legs to stomp on her hand. the crowd cheered again.
she held on for as long as she could before tapping out.
and just when you thought the crowd couldn't get any louder, they did. you pull away from Blayze and the referee calls for the bell to be rung, the arena felt like it was on fire.
you stood up both hands in the air, and the referee announced you as the winner. Alundra stood up and asked for the referee to give her the belt.
you both stood in the middle of the ring as she handed you the belt, successfully passing the torch. you both hugged and by now the crowd was chanting your name.
you pull away from her, "thank you" you smile as you raise her arm up.
9:42 pm, backstage.
you knew you had gone over the time you had, even over the extra time you were given and you were ready to take the tongue lashing you were about to get for it.
you walk through the curtains into gorilla, and what you saw scared you a little more than it should've. Vince was sat in his seat in front of a monitor, with a smile that could've stretched from ear to ear. you and Alundra look at each other nervously.
"uhm.." you begin as you walk up to Vince, "was that alright?" you ask. "alright?" he asked, "that was fucking phenomenal!" he said, and the relief that washed over you was unmatched.
"that was hands-down the best women's match I've ever seen! it was so good, and all the spots - especially that table one - were fantastic and fans clearly loved it." he praised, he walked over to you and gave you a hug, then shook Alundra's hand. "I should've listened to you" he said, head a little low.
you smile, good. great.
you walk to your locker room, championship slung over you shoulder. you could pat yourself on the back right now. you saw something hang off of your door, it looked like... a paper? as you got closer, you realize it was note. you grab the little yellow paper and read what's written, it was a little hard to read since the handwriting was a little messy.
'I'd like to have a word with you' - Undertaker.
huh?
#rainchyna#sour grapes#wwe headcanons#wwe x reader#wwe fics#wwf headcanons#wwf fanfic#wwf x reader#wwe shawn michaels x reader#shawn michaels x reader#rainchyna’s sour grapes
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Kitten (1/2)
Different daily drabble because this took over my brain today
tagging @vasiktomis and @six-feet-sleep come get your kitten Marcus juice
Pairing: Silco x Marcus
Tags: MDNI, Silco, Marcus, Marcus is Silco's discord kitten, Sugar Daddy relationship (kinda), Lying, Part 1 is Funny hahaha while Part 2 is funny because I'll get questions about my mental health, Marcus is that bi guy who didn't realize he was bi until he got pursued by another man and realized he liked it a lot
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Marcus knew he had fucked up. That going along this far is probably the stupidest, most moronic thing he has ever done. If Grayson found out, she’d give him that disappointed stare that she did that made him feel like he was eight years old again.
He had just wanted Nitro so badly. And Silco had been handing it out to him like it was free candy. All he had to pretend was to be this cute woman he found as a stock image and act interested in Silco.
It was easy pretending to be interested in another man, despite Marcus having no experience prior to it. He just told Silco things he’d like to hear.
Now he is in a world of shit, one that he can’t get out of. As it turns out, all that big talk in chat probably wasn’t a lie, Silco had connections and wasn’t shit talking about his wealth. Or maybe when he had been talking big to Marcus in DMs, trying to impress him, his ‘illicit activities’ weren’t as fabricated or funny as Marcus had initially thought.
It certainly wasn’t funny when he checked today and saw Silco had dropped his IP address in the DMs, his address, and his entire name. With only one thing typed underneath: Answer when I call.
There was no point in not answering, trying to cover it up, or pretending that to still be the girl he had lured Silco in with. He had even removed his avatar.
Now he just stares at the screen, feeling the sweat drip down his back. Wondering what Silco would do for the call, or how he’d Finally, it starts to ring, and after a moment to tremble, feeling his eyes sting and throat tighten, he accepts the call.
Silco is quick to jump into the conversation, his voice surprisingly neutral and not angry. “Hello, Marcus.”
He swallows, trying not to focus too much on the voice, other than acknowledging it was surprisingly nice. Usually, guys who played the edgy card were usually more meek sounding, but Silco sounded like he is literally holding a knife when he spoke. “Hello, S-Silco.”
There’s a pause, the sound of a click, and then some typing on the keyboard. His voice is smooth and deep, and neutral again. “You don’t have your camera on, Marcus.”
“My camera?” He blinks, eyeing the webcam. It was mainly used for zoom meetings for his current training. “You want to see me?”
“Of course, I want to see you, kitten.” The nickname sends Marcus almost sputtering, cheeks flaring red.
“Even though I’m a man?”
There’s a tut, and Silco’s tone turns an oddly tender note. “Is that why you hid from me? You thought I wouldn’t like you, Marcus? That I wouldn’t be interested in you because of your gender? I bet you’re lovely.”
Okay, that had something stirring in his stomach, which was surprisingly not a negative feeling. “I thought you’d hate me if I told the truth.” That wasn’t a lie entirely, he had been quite sure Silco would’ve just never spoken to him again, maybe after outing him to the other chats. Not the whole finding his address and full name thing, but at least now Marcus
“I think it would take a lot for me to hate you, kitten.” Silco’s voice purrs, and Marcus can feel the heat expanding over his face, up to his ears. “Now, I want to see you. I think Daddy has waited long enough.”
After a few moments of hesitation, Marcus turns on his camera, sitting back straight into his chair. Silco doesn’t turn on his, not that he wasn’t expecting him to. Marcus sits for a moment, blushing horribly in his stupid gaming chair while Silco observes him and he just has to sit there, unable to even view the other man in return. The dark-haired man half-expects Silco to end the call, but then he finally speaks.
“Marcus?”
“Yes?” He asks, voice timid as he glances into the camera, before trying to straighten himself out, to keep his head held high instead of the meek, shrimpy form he had been doing.
There’s a sigh, but it sounds happier on the other line than disappointed or upset. “You’re stunning. Better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
No point in trying to hide or deflect it now, Marcus can feel how red his face is getting. He's never been called stunning before, and it’s causing an odd flutter in his chest. One he’s only ever felt for women before.
Maybe he wasn’t as straight as he thought. “Thank you, Silco.”
“Now, tell me about your day. I want to hear your voice for as long as I can hold you here.”
So Marcus began to. Chatting with the other man for a little over an hour, as he checked his emails and made sure everything is updated. The topics changed from how days were going, to dinner plans, to Silco even offering to buy Marcus something, which he only tried to refuse a little.
It turns out Silco is very wealthy, and also now Marcus’s sort of boyfriend. Okay, no definite boyfriend. They were going to watch a movie now on call tomorrow night.
The call ends after an hour, with them both still messaging each other during Silco’s meeting he had it for. Talking far more than they ever had throughout the day, and ends when Silco forcefully declares goodnight, after being reminded of how early he has to get up tomorrow.
And throughout it, Marcus has never felt so wanted. It almost has him forgetting that Silco definitely has his address and personal information.
That thought has his finger hover over the block button because he really should. That would be the healthy thing to do. But Silco sends him one more message right before he hits it.
I hope you’re having sweet dreams, sweetheart. I miss you already.
I used to want to be a cop, he thinks before swiping away from the block page and back into the DM. I miss you too. Get some sleep Silco. And then after a moment, he sends an emoji he hopes doesn’t come off as too desperate or interested or whatever the fuck. How did he flirt with guys?
Silco sends a heart emoji in return, and it has his chest warm. Then a sleeping emoji, and the reminder has Marcus curling up into bed too.
He glances over the block button once more, far less confident in it now. It wasn’t like Silco was a complete stranger, after all, he had been talking to him for over a month now, even if it was under a different persona.
Silco just seemed like a lonely guy. And maybe Marcus could relate to that feeling a little too much.
So he doesn’t block him or remove him from friends, or leave the servers. In fact, he does something even stupider. and reacts to his heart emoji with another emoji before shutting his phone off and going to sleep.
He’ll awake to a very affectionate message, along with a gift card to go get breakfast. Marcus realizes he could very quickly get used to being spoiled like this. He had never had any partner pay for his breakfast before.
He lies in bed, reading over the message twice, he thinks that maybe being Silco’s kitten wouldn’t be too bad.
It might even be a little fun.
A/N: Part 2 is gonna be NSFW, just so you know
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Ninja Daily: Vapors 6
Naruto idly tapped on his desk (the one directly in front of where Iruka lectured, which would theoretically make it easier for the Chuunin to catch him misbehaving), wishing the period would just finish already. He had clawed his way out of the bottom of the academic rankings to a respectable middling position, but he would still much rather be working on his aim.
Lately he had been spending almost all of his physical development time on throwing skills, after he'd noted that Mizuki-sensei was a goddamn prick and never pointed out his mistakes. He never seemed especially approving either- he'd give Naruto's poor katas the same nod he gave Sakura's technical perfection. He wasn't addressing either of their issues.
Naruto knew from watching his pretty (incredibly, mind-bogglingly, world-changingly pretty) classmate that her stamina was very poor and that she was lacking in muscle mass (even for the admittedly low standards for ten year old girls). Likewise, he knew that he tended to overreach and start his kata too quickly which ended up forcing him faster and faster. Speed was great, but he wanted to go at a speed he wasn't ready for and that ended up making his steps sloppy.
He probably wouldn't know the difference if Aiko hadn't pointed out his issues in the same casual way she told him it was his turn to take out the garbage. It wasn't good or bad, it was just being brought to his attention so that he could do something about it.
Ino (He took a moment to glare at the back of her head, long blonde hair swaying gently in the breeze from open windows) had been less diplomatic about his level. He was going to fight her one day too. Aiko was spending what seemed like every other morning working out with Ino.
He'd been invited, of course, but… he had other things to do. Like find out where Mizuki-sensei lived and smear the juice from a can of tuna fish under the table. (No matter how hard Mizuki-bastard scrubbed, his kitchen was going to gradually get stinkier and stinkier.) Naruto tried not to cackle overmuch in class. That had been yesterday- the Chuunin had probably only recently noticed the smell and was trying to find the source. Comedic gold, if only he could witness the frustration himself. An eraser suddenly appeared in him immediate vision and he jerked to the left to avoid it. 'Eh heh heh… Iruka-sensei looks kinda mad.'
"Stop cackling, Uzumaki. It's disruptive and just plain weird." With a mid-level stern glare (Naruto had made a mental chart, categorizing the severity of Iruka Glares) the Chuunin that didn't totally suck (Bite me, Mizuki-bastard!) went back to droning on about why you actually shouldn't aim for the jugular in a certain type of situation. It had something to do with bloodspray and tracking by scent?
For the next four minutes, Naruto was a model student.
Then he was tired of that.
Sasuke, that goddamn prick, was dutifully focused on the lecture. He never took notes, but he was always right when the teachers called on him. They called on him a lot- whenever Naruto or Kiba couldn't answer a question, Iruka would look to Mr. Perfect Hair. Smug bastard. Naruto broke a pencil in his fist, totally oblivious to the way that Shino gave him a mildly alarmed stare and inched away, beetles hiding deeper under his seasonally inappropriate coat.
Naruto shifted guiltily. It sucked to compare his academic performance to others. It was just so hard. 'Maybe if I worked like Aiko, I'd already be graduated.' The thought made him feel bad about himself, so he tried not to think it often. It was hard to not to make the comparison, though. She was his twin and they'd entered the academy the same year- should they be more alike?
It wasn't that Naruto didn't work at his ninja skills- far from it! He worked at it daily. But he just couldn't only be a ninja like Aiko. She didn't have any hobbies or downtime, and her workouts with Ino were probably the closest thing she had to a friendship. If she'd been someone else… well, he might have thought that she was cripplingly weird and too serious. She kinda acted like an old lady, (except for all the cursing, of course.)
That afternoon he rushed home, pinching the torn seam of his favorite black t shirt shut. (He was totally going to beat the shit out of Kiba next time they sparred, believe it!). 'I beat Aiko home,' he noticed dumbly when he shucked off his shoes. 'That almost never happens.' Aside from her one overnight mission, his sister was almost always home when he walked in the door. She generally went out to train again after the worst of the heat passed, but only after they had dinner. He felt like being helpful, so he started some tea before he tugged off his shirt and went in search of the little sewing kit Aiko had been forced to buy for her kunoichi class.
Naruto really didn't understand how she could be so incredibly bad at repairing her clothes, especially since she'd had to take a class on it. The things that girl could do with a seam just didn't bear thinking about, so Naruto generally clenched his teeth and did her mending in addition to his own.
"Oy, that tea fresh?"
"Yeah, but you don't get any because you're a cotton-headed ninnymuggins," he called back casually, fighting down the corners of his mouth. He heard his sister snicker from the other room- that one always made her laugh for some reason. Naruto wasn't entirely sure why. She'd taught him lots of bad words to call people and most of them didn't make her laugh at all.
Aiko wandered in from the kitchen (he hadn't even noticed her cross the room, when had she gotten so sneaky?) holding a cup of tea. "You look like doo," he casually commented, keeping one eye on his stitches and one eye on the way her right eye twitched. "I'm not sure what kind. Unimaginative bet is on dog doo, but I'm leaning towards sheep."
"Thanks, little brother. You always know just what to say." She flopped down onto the couch in a way that probably should have spilled hot liquid all over her. He'd been joking, but he hadn't really been lying. She must have come directly from her workout, because her bangs were still plastered to her forehead with sweat and he could see a line of bruises on the backs of her forearms- from blocking blows in a spar with a stronger opponent, probably?
He imagined that if he stared long enough, he would be able to watch him fade. Both of the twins healed quickly, but he never seemed to see it happen. It was almost as if bruises waited for him to lose interest before they scuttled off.
"What are you thinking about?" Her uncanny blue-green eyes were directed at him. Naruto loved his sister's eyes. They looked like what he imagined the ocean was.
"Crabs," Naruto said firmly. "Would you describe the way they move as a scuttle?" He waved his hands to demonstrate, light glinting off the needle in his fist.
"I've never met a crab," she said dryly. "When I do, I'll tell you all about it." Aiko kicked her feet up to rest on the arms of the couch, stretching one arm out precariously to set her tea cup down with a clink onto the side table. "Brother mine, love of my life, most clever and ki-"
"You're so full of shit it's coming out your ears," Naruto interrupted blandly, too focused on his mending to muster up an emotional response. "What is it you want mended?"
"I'll go get them." Aiko easily rolled off the couch and landed on just one foot, sliding into a walk without a moment's awkwardness. Naruto silently cursed his sister's coordination while she padded away to rustle around in the bedroom (they shared) and came back with what appeared to be a pair of her leggings. She tossed it at him, and he barely pulled them out of the air before they landed on his hair. "Please and thank you. "
"What's for dinner?" he called. He could practically sense his sister roll her eyes from the kitchen. She was clearly getting things ready- the icebox opened and closed, as did drawers and he could hear rustles. Then there was a knock on the door. Naruto blinked and then his sister was crouched beside him, frowning slightly.
"You expecting anyone?" she asked in an undertone. He shook his head, setting the needle aside and sliding a kunai out of his holster. Aiko gave him an approving quirk of the lips, moving to the door so quickly that she was just a blur of color. The tenseness in her shoulders fled as soon as she cracked the door and breathed deeply. "Um, hello sensei. Would you like to come in and have some tea?"
A tall man stepped through the door. 'He's weird looking,' Naruto marveled, putting his kunai away and picking his mending back up again. This was his first glimpse of Aiko's sensei. He was slouched over like Shikamaru, dressed like a Jounin, and had hair like he'd stuck a finger in a light socket. When the tall guy turned to pass one eye lazily over Naruto, the boy stiffened. The dark blue mask over his jaw moved slightly, but Naruto couldn't tell what expression was being made. "Maaa, Aiko," the old guy rumbled. "No tea, thank you. I came to tell you to get ready. We have a last minute mission."
"Duration?" Aiko asked briskly, draining her tea cup and starting towards the bedroom.
The old guy 'hmmmed'. "Oh, hard to say. We're tracking a Chuunin level missing nin. Should be an easy introduction into the craft. I'd pack light. We're going to be doing a lot of running."
"Is this why you've been pushing my speed so much?" Aiko called from the bedroom, sounding calm despite the sounds of frantic packing.
"Exactly." One dark eye drifted over to examine Naruto as if it could x-ray down to the thoughts in his head. Naruto scowled, crossing his arms and giving the intruder a stink-eye. 'Who does he think he is, budging in here and dragging Aiko away when she just got home?'.
His sister bounded back into the room, wearing twice the weapons she had been before and toting a navy blue knapsack. She nearly barreled Naruto over when she gave him a hug, grinning fiercely and poking his nose. "Eat your junk food tonight, but be sure to cook real food tomorrow, okay? Be good, stay safe, and don't prank Mizuki 'til I get back."
Naruto harrumphed, dutifully leaning back into the hug with his chin resting on her shoulder (and ugh, he was going to be taller than her one day soon, believe it!) and rolling his eyes. "Yes, mother," he drawled, pleased by the attention but too grown-up to tolerate it in front of a stranger. The old guy seemed to flinch, his one visible eye flickering to Aiko's bizarrely colorful hair. Naruto startled and gave the old guy a distrustful stare. He didn't like leaving his sister with a stranger, especially not one this weird.
Unfortunately, no one asked his very excellent opinion and the two ninja sped out of the apartment building, leaving him alone and bored.
Even with all the stamina and speed training she had done since graduation, Aiko had to grit her teeth to cope with the pain in her feet and weakness in her legs after a few hours of running without stop. Kakashi-sensei had been very certain that she had a lot of potential for speed, and it was one of the few things he actually trained her in. He'd been right, but the pace they needed to keep in order to gain ground on a ninja of a higher rank like a Chuunin was wearing on her quickly. Her hip, knee, and ankle joints were all screaming with pain by the time he allowed her to have a break, crouching to speak quietly with the brown, scruffy looking dog he'd summoned. In a moment, he dismissed the dog they'd been following and whipped through hand seals and summoned- is that a pug?
Aiko ignored the ninken that she was pretty sure would answer to 'Pakkun' and drained half a bottle of water, then gulping down a quick dissolve pill that should restore some of the salt she'd lost through sweat and reduce the amino acid burn from the run. She flopped to the forest floor and bent into a straight-legged stretch, trying to calm her heartrate and breathing through sheer force of will.
"Who is this?"
Aiko looked up at the surprisingly deep voice, somehow not surprised to see that the pug had invaded her personal space. When her teacher didn't speak up, she managed to catch her breath enough to briefly introduce herself. "Uzumaki Aiko, happy to meet you."
'Very happy. He's so cute! I wonder if it's too undignified for a ninken to snuggle?'
"Pakkun," the pug said simply. He snuffled at her side, causing her to yelp when she felt his cold nose through her thin shirt. "So this is-"
"My student," Kakashi interrupted smoothly. The dog gave him a look that indicated the two would be having a talk later, but let it slide. He pointedly nudged her tummy with his square head, and Aiko reflexively scratched behind his ears and stroked down his back. His fur was so sort- it was more like petting a bunny than a comparatively coarse dog. The girl couldn't help but smile. It was the first time she'd really met a dog in this lifetime, but the doggy scent he gave off was comforting and very familiar. Maybe she'd been a dog person in her past life.
'Did Pakkun know Kushina and Minato well enough to notice a connection with my scent?' Aiko pursed her lips. It looked that way, which would also explain her teacher's uncharacteristic interruption. He was often rude, yes, but generally through inaction like his failure to introduce the two parties than by actively doing something rude.
"Pakkun, we're on the clock," Kakashi drawled. "Make friends later."
"No respect," the small dog grumbled, reluctantly leaning out of her reach and sniffing around the area. "Yeah, I have the scent. We're damn close. Your prey is weak and slowing down, so we should be able to catch up within the hour at most. Why are you taking your pup on a hunt, boy?"
Aiko almost choked, eyes wider than what she could pretend was dignified. 'I don't think Pakkun talked to Kakashi like that in the manga,' she thought weakly. The idea of her strict teacher being referred to as 'boy'…. It didn't bear thinking about. Said teacher looked more amused than anything.
"Maa, Pakkun, I'm starting to think you don't trust my judgment. I wouldn't have brought the pup if I couldn't keep her safe. This should be an easy introduction to real missions, even if she is still out of shape despite months of my best work," he casually insulted. Aiko felt that eye twitch start up again. She willed the muscle spasm to stop. "Alright, break is over. Let's go." With a sigh, Aiko gave one last stretch and climbed to her feet. As the small group started running again, her teacher let the pug take point and slowed down to run beside her. "You know," he said quietly, "You're going to see your first kill. We don't bring missing nin back alive, but we can't allow them to go and make Konoha look weak either."
Momentarily stunned, Aiko struggled to find her footing on the next landing. Her teacher didn't comment, but she didn't fool herself into thinking he hadn't noticed. "I see," she managed. "I… I suppose that makes sense." It did make a terrible kind of sense. Kakashi was famous as both a ninjutsu specialist and a tracker, and he had spent roughly a decade in ANBU. Of course he got a lot of hunting missions.
"You're a good kid," he said quietly. "I just want you to remember why we're doing this. You got stuck with me for a teacher, so you unfortunately are going to pick up my specialties, like retrieval. This is just a run to gain experience for you. You're going to hang back, and if I assess that the situation is going poorly you will obey my orders immediately. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," she automatically replied.
His attention slid up front and he leapt ahead at the exact moment Pakkun gave a rough bark. A moment later (it might have been a quarter of a second or up to three whole seconds later, Aiko's brain seemed to have decided it wanted to process time in new and interesting ways) a lithe figure exploded from the tree tops, aiming a hard kick at Pakkun –the throat, it would have him choking in his own blood and knock him off the branch he was perched on, the fall was too far, he couldn't land safely. Her muscles moved without her knowledge to position her so that she could catch him if he fell. The dog couldn't possibly dodge it in time, but her sensei was suddenly there deflecting the blow and forcing her backwards with straight taijutsu.
Aiko felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head, but she couldn't stop staring. She'd improved her speed by almost a hundred percent since she graduated, but what the fighters were doing was downright insane. She could barely keep track of them as flashes of dark and light and rustles of clothing flickering in the branches of the enormous Konoha trees.
It was damn hard to tell, but the Chuunin they'd been sent to retrieve (at least, that was probably the opponent, especially as she'd immediately aimed for the ninken tracking her) appeared to be a dark-haired woman of extraordinarily short stature. 'For some reason, I pictured a nondescript man in uniform.' Aiko tried not to wince. She hadn't really thought of the missing nin as a breathing human being- just a target, a filler character. 'He's going to kill this person,' she dully realized. A real person. She felt her breathing speed up, but couldn't control it. She leapt backwards, keeping both combatants in her vision but painfully aware that she was outclassed and had been told to stay out of the way.
She hadn't realized just how enormous the gulf between a genin and a Chuunin was. It had always seemed so easy and natural- that if she just kept working she would get there one day as a brief stop on the road to being a Jounin who could protect Naruto and herself. But this was insane.
Aiko knew damn well that her sensei was a monster among shinobi- one of the absolute best. But this woman seemed to be keeping up with him surprisingly well, despite the obvious signs that she was drained and desperate. 'She must be a taijutsu specialist,' the ten-year old hypothesized. And wasn't that counterintuitive- to see such a tiny woman holding her own in a physical fight against a tall man.
The whole encounter lasted perhaps twenty seconds and boasted at least three times as many blows, from her desperate charge to the instant when Kakashi slid under the woman's guard and dispassionately snapped her neck. 'A bloodless kill,' Aiko numbly registered. 'So that he doesn't bother Pakkun's nose. He must think we still need to do some tracking.' She only noticed she was shaking when her sensei shot her an inscrutable look.
"Pakkun, check ahead. If she set up traps, I want to disable them before we go. Aiko-chan, come here." She steeled herself, then leapt to her teacher's side with two agile jumps, remaining in a slight crouch over the lump of flesh that was a living breathing human being until very recently. "Do you know how we dispose of bodies?" he asked tonelessly.
'Sealing scrolls?' Aiko twitched, feeling her stomach roil. 'No, don't be stupid. That's an expensive resource, it wouldn't be used for a low-level nin like this. That would only be necessary to collect on a bounty.' She took a steadying breath. "We burn it?"
"Correct. Watch my hands." He steadily worked his way through six hand signs, then breathed in deeply through his nose and pushed one hand out, encased in a flickering orange flame that leapt to cover the body. In an instant, every inch of flesh was shimmering through orange fire- then it blackened, then there was a horrible stench and the corpse crumbled in on itself and burst into greasy ash. Aiko coughed, waving one hand in front of her face to try to keep from breathing the material in. Her sensei dispassionately flipped through three hand signs and blew out a harsh blast of air that scattered the remains through the tree tops.
'The metal didn't burn," Aiko observed. It had been distorted in the sudden heat, but she could still pick out buckles from boots, a thin sludge of what must have been hidden senbon, and two kunai from a thigh holster.
"That was strangely anticlimactic. She was here and now she's dust." Aiko stared blankly at the ash on the wind. A warm hand landed on her head, fingers gently rustling into her hair.
"Being a ninja isn't usually glamorous or climactic," he rumbled. "Most of it is quick, dirty and altogether unpleasant. The types of battles that kids play at in Academy- only the real elites fight that way. It's more of a vanity thing than practical."
"A dick measuring contest," she said without thinking. She actually felt her teacher stiffen. 'Ah, oops, probably not an age-appropriate metaphor,' she realized too late.
"Ah, I suppose," he said, sounding spectacularly uncomfortable. He gave a deep sigh. "Pakkun, report."
"All clear," the dog barked.
"Thank you," he said absentmindedly. The dog had just enough time to nod before he was dismissed. "All right," he sighed, pushing one hand through his hair. It got stuck and he had to tug it out. Aiko forced down an inappropriate smile. "Now we go home and report. Do you want to take a break here? You did well keeping up. I wanted to catch her before she got to the first town, where she might have caused more trouble and complicated the mission."
Aiko consciously didn't look at the branch they were standing on. "No, I'm good." She gave her teacher a weak smile, noting how weary and old he looked. She suddenly wanted to perk him up- he shouldn't look like that. He was only in his twenties. "Come on, old man" she teased, nudging his ribs with her shoulder. "I get it already, you're a total badass. Are you going to make me that fast?"
Her teacher snorted, shoulders relaxing imperceptibly before he took off in a blur of movement. She gave a cry of indignation and hurried to catch up. "You're years away from that," he taunted. "You can barely run in a straight line. I think you should master that before Jounin level taijutsu, eh?"
"I'd be happy if you'd teach me anything instead of beating on me all day," she faux-accused. She really was learning- it just wasn't the kind of thing she could show off. Becoming a faster runner and putting on muscle mass wasn't nearly as cool to demonstrate as crazy taijutsu or elemental jutsu.
She regretted the taunt when her teacher gave a low chuckle. "Well, if my cute little student needs to be taught, I suppose I can dream something up."
The next day, she reported for her promised training and was pleasantly surprised to get her primary element tested.
"Water?" Kakashi's mask moved as if he was biting at his lip (that really didn't hide everything, why had Team 7 been so irritated by it in the anime? It was just a thin piece of fabric). "Well, I'm no expert at that one but I suppose I can get you started. That's my least favorite element," he cheerfully announced.
"Gee, thanks," she grumbled, dropping the soggy paper to the ground. This was her least favorite part of the training ground- she hadn't come here since her accidental cat murder. She very carefully did not look at the scorched earth to her right. 'No one knows. No one will ever know.' She suppressed a twitch. It was like that Poe story with the beating heart. She just couldn't stop thinking about that goddamn cat. And it seemed like there was no way that Kakashi hadn't noticed her discomfort. 'Is that why we're at this specific part of the training ground? Is it just a coincidence? Is he trying to coerce me into confessing?'
"Don't worry, once you've mastered all the water jutsu in the world we can start you on a good element." Aiko drooped. 'Somehow that's not reassuring.' Her teacher coughed lightly. "Pay attention, Aiko-chan."
The technique he'd showed her was bizarre, ill-suited to Konoha's climate, and incredibly familiar.
"You want me to practice turning into a puddle of water," she said blankly, kicking at her sensei. He materialized from the puddle of –well, himself she supposed, and wasn't that ewwww- and grabbed her ankle, giving her a stern look. "I was envisioning something with some sort of combat potential. Or any kind of potential, really. I suppose that'll be useful if I ever get a mission to investigate the soles of rainboots."
"Don't be a smart ass, it doesn't suit you. Did you catch the hand seals?" Obligingly, he ran slowly through them one more time while she copied. "Good. This element transformation should come comparatively easily to you. More importantly, once you have this down, you'll be able to apply the same skill to summon a mist to hide in, make a water clone, and do a couple other nifty tricks, like causing rain in a small area."
Aiko blinked. "Oh," she said dumbly. "That actually does sound useful."
"It's almost like I'm your teacher or something," Kakashi drawled sarcastically. "The hard part is going to be chakra saturation- in order for this to work, you actually need both respectable reserves and the ability to manipulate almost all of it at once. You won't actually lose most of it in the jutsu, but it needs to be transformed from the neutral state to water type."
Aiko found herself alone on the training ground long after her sensei had slunk away for the night, incredibly frustrated. "Why can't I make this fucking jutsu work?" she outright hissed, flinging her hands up and desperately wishing for something or someone that she could hit.
Too stubborn to give up, she abandoned her normal workout routine for the night in order to concentrate on getting down the one jutsu her sensei had trusted her to learn. She thought that she had the first part down, at least.
After hours of trial and error, she could now transform the neutral chakra at her stomach, head, and other main gates into water natured chakra easily and quickly. Seeing as how that didn't do anything, however, it clearly became obvious that it wasn't enough. After that it was a rush to either flood her chakra coils with the new water natured chakra or concentrate on changing the lingering remnants of chakra in her coils in the same way she'd changed the stored chakra. Unfortunately, the first method seemed to require an exact speed of release that she hadn't mastered, and the second method seemed to require more concentration than she could boast of. If she focused on the floating chakra, her reserves faltered back into their neutral state.
'I'm going to figure this out if it kills me,' she vowed. She'd never failed at a jutsu before, and she wasn't about to start now.
Kakashi slouched a little further, silver hair tickling the back of his neck. He really needed to do something about it. Eventually. "I admit I had doubts about taking a fresh genin out hunting, but she performed well in the field. She displayed a relatively healthy reaction to seeing a kill under controlled combat conditions. It doesn't seem far-fetched that she could be trained as part of a hunter unit. My initial reservations about whether or not that'd be a waste of a potential front-line type still stand, however. She'll probably excel in either specialty."
The Sandaime Hokage smiled, giving the reporting Jounin his full attention for a split second while he was switching out stamps. "Excellent, Kakashi-kun. I am glad to hear it. I've always heard good things about Aiko while she was in the Academy, but of course that doesn't always translate to field performance."
"Actually, she's weirder in the village," Kakashi mumbled, trying not to think too much about why his student got so damn twitchy every time they went to training ground 7. It was probably safer not to know. He lowered his book to address the Hokage directly, but still held Icha Icha up high enough to obscure most of his face. "But her work ethic is satisfactory. I have been concentrating on her speed and endurance. I would say she's actually on par with experienced Genin in those two areas. She's a rank beginner in taijutsu, of course, and her weapons aren't much better. Now that I'm momentarily satisfied that she can be trusted to make it to a mission, I'm teaching her some mostly evasive jutsu so that she doesn't get skewered by someone out of her league. That would be everyone, of course."
"And to think you claimed you didn't want to train genin for so long," Sarutobi pointed out, not bothering to hide his smile.
Kakashi gave him an uncharacteristically sharp look. "I don't," he said shortly. "But Minato's kids deserve to be taught right. Aiko has her mother's chakra type, which probably makes her our only water type in that generation. I was never good at Kushina's whirlpool style jutsu, but I can teach it to her well enough. She deserves that legacy." He turned his face away from the Hokage's partially sympathetic and partially frustrated expression.
"She isn't her parents," Sarutobi said, a little harshly. He narrowed his eyes, gave the Jounin his full attention and even focused a little bit of intent in his direction. "You understand that?"
"Yes, of course." Kakashi's head twitched into something an optimist might term an incline. "Is that all, Hokage-sama?"
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a peculiar comorbidity, part two
i'm experiencing a diabetes-associated autistic meltdown. and it's not pretty. it's made me develop a really bad relationship with food, a massive fear of it. it makes me doomscroll on Beyond Type 1, on Twitter, on Reddit, just to find some glimmer of hope. It makes me panic-message my endocrinologist if I stay elevated at 220 for like two hours - I was between 200-270 mg/dL when I developed ketoacidosis symptoms, I can feel my heart pound in my chest at 250 mg/dL, I develop ketones within an hour of staying out of range. and yet her biggest concern is the fact that I kinda have to bend over backwards to wrap my life around this autoimmune disorder, to get really tight control and stay out of highs (but ultimately be more susceptible to lows - which are not good at all, since I am mostly hypoglycemic unaware) in fear that I will have to be charged to the hospital later that night. my body works really fucking weird - like, Nick Jonas had to have a blood sugar of 700 mg/dL just to get admitted for DKA in the middle of recording It's About Time. most T1D diagnosis stories share the same thing. the closest diagnosis story I can compare mine to is maybe a few LADA stories - but LADA cases always start out mimicking type 2 diabetes, which I could've been well in danger of developing because of an astoundingly bad fast-food-heavy diet (three times a day when I was working at the bookstore, IIRC - binge-eating during the bookstore closure). it takes YEARS for a LADA case to really show its true colors. mine took two months. I'm gonna try to get my C-peptides tested again - and if they're still 0.9 (just slightly under range) after three months of a raging autoantibody reaction, then I know there's more to me than "body attacks body." i'm hoping they are. that means I could benefit from Tzield - if they ever approve it for people like me.
every few weeks or so I have diabetes burnout so horrible that it intermingles with the meltdown and, combined with whether or not the sun's outside, puts me in a really bad mental spot. and you wanna know how bad it gets? you really want to know? well, let me put it like this, to quote Kid Cudi's weird grunge album: "I hate the gun, but I love the sun." From "Confused!" - from Kid Cudi, whose big shtick is that he's REALLY honest about his struggles with suicidal ideation. that specific line is about how he really does not want to kill himself, but he DESPERATELY wants peace of mind. usually, when it comes to suicide, nobody talks about it or, if you do, people just lock you up and throw away the key. i have worsening suicidal ideation because of this comorbidity. Nick Jonas thinks the worst he has to deal with is that he can't eat pizza super-libertine anymore or that he might get shaky enough to chug an apple juice in the middle of singing "Waffle House" during a show? imagine being afraid of all your safe foods because if you take too little insulin, you're in the hospital for DKA later that day because elevated sugars hit you way harder than everybody else, and your entire medical team (but specifically your educator and endo) will tell you "don't eat that anymore, don't eat that anymore" because they don't get the fucking memo despite you not making eye contact with them at all, despite having the monotone voice, despite occasionally stimming since I can't keep my guard up at all times - they think that as long you don't look like the Rain Man, counting cards in a suit from Armani and underwear from K-Mart, you're not autistic.
do I HAVE to whip out my diagnosis and observation papers from 1994 to 2005 just for them to get the idea of why I'm desperate for the long game to be a relatively short game? I get that this shit's gonna last a while, but when I say I can't live the rest of my life with this, I really can't. the average life expectancy of an autistic person is, what, 51? well, you just cut my life expectancy down to, maybe, 45 since I am way more prone to distress and burnout. all the type 1 resources, both by type 1s and medical organizations, have been tailored for neurotypical type 1s or type 1s with way lighter neurodivergences, for neurodivergent kids who've always had diabetes so the cormorbidity isn't bad (so they can still freely determine their safe foods). this is why I want to get on Tzield now - I want to prove that the PROTECT Study is worth its weight in gold. I want more clinicals near me to widen their eligibility for me - to not have the cutoff age be 30. I want Novo Nordisk and Sanofi and Eli Lilly to end the price-gouging of insulin either through extreme government intervention or by making insulin totally free. forever.
#autism#autistic life#type 1 life#type 1 problems#type 1 diabetic#LADA#mental health#comorbid conditions#ableism#healthcare
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To the Goal
A.N: First night from Book five with my Twst Yuu Oc, Mia! From getting apple juice to sneaking to the kitchen.
Twisted Wonderland Masterlist————————————————————————
That night, Epel had an unexpected package delivered from his Grandmother in the form of apple juice.
Mia swirled the juice in the cup before taking a sip. Then she blinked hard.
“Do you like it, Mia?” Epel asked, leaning eagerly towards her.
Mia blinked again and looked down into her cup.
“Uh, you okay?” inquired Ace.
“I have no idea what that face means….” Grim stated, peering at her.
“Chillllld…..”, Mia drawled, “I’ll tell you it to you true, I’m not big on apple juice or apples but this right here, it’s right.”
Epel who had begun to look a little worried, gave a relieved sigh and beamed, “I’m glad you like it, Mia!!”
“Ooh, I don’t know if you have it here, but do you have carbonated water?”
“Yes, of course!” Epel replied.
“Put this in carbonated water for a little extra bubbly and….” Mia did chef kisses.
“Ooh, la la!! I like your thinking, mademoiselle!!” Rook spoke giving her a wink.
When Vil entered the lounge, he was offered some, but apparently he had other things in mind.
Namely enforcing curfew and skin care routines.
Naturally, there was resistance. Mia herself sometimes stayed up to 11pm, but rarely did she go past that unless it was a weekend. But even then, she got pretty sleepy by 12 am. She had been known to stay up to 1am to watch a movie or something, but that was extremely rare.
He was pretty horrified by the boy's routine, or rather general lack there of. Mia could only mentally shake her head. Was Vil really that surprised by it? Mia gingerly took one of Vil’s product and was looking at it, as the conversation flowed around her.
“If I may be so bold to ask, Mia, do you have a skin care routine?”
Mia realized she was being spoken to and looked up at Vil. Then she cocked her head, “Well, in my world, I had this special herbalize soap. I also occasionally like to use face masks. And I also used glycerine on my face. However, since coming here, I haven’t really been off campus, so I wouldn’t know if you have any of that stuff.” then she muttered under her breath, “Besides, money is kinda tight here for frivolous stuff…”
“Wow! That sounds rather complicated as well.” Deuce murmured.
“Non, non! Sounds most beauteous!!” declared Rook, “Glycerine is a widely used product in cosmetics. It is a moisturizing agent that pulls water into the outer layer of your skin from deeper within, as well as the air. It can hydrate and provide protection against irritants!!”
“Did you understand any of that?” Deuce whispered to Ace.
Ace whispered back, “I heard hydration….”
“It just means adding moisture to your skin. My skin tends to get dry.” Mia supplied.
Rook leaned towards her with a smile, “Mia, if I may ask, were there a specific kind of face masks you like?”
“Um, hydrating ones and ones that cleaned out your pores, mostly.”
“Tres Magnifique! It’s clear you have a grasp of some basics of skin care!! Do you not think so, Vil?”
It looked like Vil almost narrowed his eyes at her, “So at least, you have an awareness on the matter but not consistency. No matter, as our manager, you are to look your best as well. Make sure to take a set and apply it!”
Mia frowned, “How much of a smell is this? My sinus’ can’t handle perfumy smells. Headaches and all.”
Vil sighed, “Then I shall make sure to get you a non-smell one, if this one isn’t to your liking.”
At the end of the demonstration that Vil kindly had on how to use the set, Deuce cried, “This is as hard as a potionology practical!”
“I can’t remember all of that!! Are you insane?!” cried Ace making Vil glare at him.
“Quite sane, thank you, and you will remember and apply this if you know what is good for you!” snapped Vil.
“I don’t even remember the first step!!”
Vil’s right eye twitched, “I know you don’t expect me to rehearse this again!”
“It seems this prefect is on it!” Rook declared, leaning over to the couch looking down at Mia who was writing furiously on a legal pad she pulled out from the drawer.
Kalim skipped over and plopped down next to her, peering over her shoulder, “Wa, she’s making notes for us!!”
Deuce and Ace exchanged high fives, “Hooray!! We are saved!!”
Grim shook his head, “You humans go through a whole lot of drama!! I’m glad I don’t have to suffer this.”
Vil narrowed his eyes at Grim, “Perhaps we can find something to help that mangy look of fur you have going on.”
Grim recoiled, “Ya!! This Great Grim is handsome!! My fur is beautiful!”
“Yes, and it could use a bit of fluff and puff!!” Mia declared, looking up as she finished. She handed it out to Vil, “Please approve this, to make sure I got it all.”
Grim bared his teeth, “How dare you, minion!”
Mia waved him away, “Treat it as a plumping service for yours truly!”
Kalim was touching his cheek, “My skin is feeling silker after getting Vil’s treatment! Here, Mia, feel my cheek!”
Before Jamil could say anything, Mia reached up and poked gently, then her eyes widen, before she rubbed at it, “Wow! So squishy!”
“Hey! Get your grimy hands off of his clean face!!” snapped Vil making Mia retract her hand quickly, “Hands are a breeding ground for microorganisms.”
Mia dipped her head, contritely, “I’m sorry…”
Vil eyed her before handing back the legal pad, “Although your handwriting is barely legible, you got the steps correct.”
Mia took the pad back and set it on the table, “Excuse me, for having to write it down fast so that I could remember it. You practically have a whole 10 step skin care routine going.”
“10 steps!!” cried Ace.
Deuce shivered, “What kind of sorcery is that?”
Mia laughed, “In my world, there was another country that developed a 10 step skin care routine. It worked wonders. I just reduced mine to less than five cause I can’t maintain that.”
Vil looked pleased at this, “It’s good to know that other worlds have a commitment to beauty as well!”
—-
“Grim, this better be good!” Mia snapped as she followed Grim out of her room only to met by Ace and Deuce.
She promptly turned to go back upstairs but Ace smiled and grabbed her arms, “Come on, Ms. Manager! Your clients are hungry!! Dinner wasn’t filling! So we are eyeing those pastries that Trey made us! Even he said we should eat them by today! How can we deny our vice dorm leader?”
“I’m not in this!!” Mia whispered fiercely, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop before you invite Vil’s wrath. That dude, is scary!!”
Mia held her head in her hands, rubbing her temples as the boys decided to be gluttonous at….wait, what time was it? They needed to be sleep like someone got some sense.
“Everything taste better when it’s forbidden!!” Grim cried, munching on treats.
Mia wrinkled her nose. Were boys usually pigs like this? This was disgusting, this late at night. She was getting a stomachache just watching. Wait, why was she here? With a shake of her head, she decided, maybe she could sneak away while they were busy gorging themselves.
She had snuck to the bottom of the stairs only to jump to see Vil standing there, “My, my what do we have here?”
Mia just flattened herself against the wall to allow him to pass through. Just as her intuition warned her, this man’s dedication and observation was a force to be reckoned with.
Thankfully, Vil barely spared her a glance, “A pack of little rats scurrying through the kitchen under the cover of night. Disobedient children require discipline.”
Mia couldn’t argue with that though she dropped her head in her hands as Ace stood unrepentant, “Look, we are growing boys, okay? Of course, we are going to get hungry at night.”
Seriously, why did boys always use that line? If they ate right, and stop stuffing themselves with useless carbs and sugars, didn’t they ever think maybe they wouldn’t be hungry at night?
“Speaking as a Heartslabyul student, I can’t possibly ignore Trey’s homemade sweets. That would be just wrong!” Deuce cried passionately.
Did he forget that Ace stuffed a piece of pie down his throat? He didn’t have a very strong resolve to begin with, but come on!!
But strangely Vil was taking this much calmer than Mia thought he would, “Any minute now…”
Mia took it back as the boys and Grim fell to the floor. She was pretty sure that Vil needed them, so he wouldn’t kill them, so she ventured to ask rather calmly, “Uhhhhh, we okay or nah?”
Apparently, Vil had a signature spell that allowed him to curse anything he touched. Then Vil swung around to her, “Manager, seeing as you did not partake, I’ll let you off this time.”
Mia thought she and Grim were exempt! Technically, shouldn’t she be allowed to eat this late, even though she didn’t want to? But she wasn’t going to argue with Vil.
As if reading her mind, he added, “But don’t start indulging just because you are not going out on stage. You too, represent this group. Now get back to your room, unless you want to root yourself onto the floor with these spudlings.”
“Ei, Ei, Sir!” Mia cried, giving him a salute and rushing upstairs. She had no shame in leaving her friends.
There are times in every person’s life when you must deal with the consequences of your own actions.
This was one of those times.
Mia almost knocked into someone, but that person twisted around her, barely stopping the collusion.
“Ah, Jamil! You scared me!”
Jamil frowned, eyeing her, “What is going on? I heard a thud!”
“Vil is scary but nothing matched Ace, Deuce and Grim’s collective stupidity.”
Jamil’s eyes were trained on her, as he folded his arms. He was beginning to relax, but still needed to concrete reasoning behind the thud, “Meaning?”
“Grim woke me up, because the boys thought to binge-eat this late at night. But Vil caught them and used his signature spell.”
Jamil forked an eyebrow, “Which is?”
“He can curse anything he touches. And he cursed the sweets!”
Jamil’s eyes went wide, “Wha?! He can do that?”
Mia nodded earnestly, “Uh-um! And those boys will be sleeping on the floor until tomorrow at sunrise, when the curse is broken. That was the thud you heard.”
“Do you two want to join them? Mia, I thought I said to go to bed?”
Both Jamil and Mia jumped when it seemed that Vil just appeared at the top of the stairs. Seriously, did this man make any noise?
“Good night!! I was just going!!” Mia didn’t waste any more words before practically running into her room and shutting the door.
Jamil kept his calm as he began to walk back down the hallway to his and Kalim’s room, “I just wanted to investigate the thudding noise I heard. Since I know there is no threat, I shall retire.”
Vil tsked, “No threat, he says…”
He would not allow anyone to stand in the way of his goals.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twst#twst fanfiction#twst pomefiore#twst scarabia#twst ace#twst deuce#twst grim#twst yuu oc
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Part 3: Into The Foreboding Forest
…
“Nozomi?”
…
“Nozomi, please wake up.”
…
“Nozomi!”
“…?!”
I quickly jolted my head up and frantically looked around until my eyes landed on Miss Audino. I stared at her with a confused expression, wondering what was going on.
“You fell asleep during the last few minutes of class. I would have woken you up earlier, but the bell was about to ring, so I just let you be,” she explained.
I fell asleep?! I didn’t even realize! Aw, nuts…I figured it would happen eventually because of my sleeping troubles, but I didn’t want it to happen in her class…
I gave her an apologetic expression, only for her to respond by shaking her head.
“Oh, there’s no need to apologize. If I’m being quite honest, you looked like you needed it,” she said with a grin.
I gave her a small smile and thanked her for being so understanding, even though I still kinda felt bad about it. Then I turned and looked back, realizing that I was the only student left.
Miss Audino saw me looking back and spoke again with an awkward chuckle. “Oh, yes…I might have let you sleep for a little while longer after the bell rang. I spent that time getting this for you.”
“…?”
After she said that, she revealed a cup of juice from behind her back. I looked at it with a confused expression, briefly wondering what type of juice it was and why she’d go out of her way to get it for me. That’s when I noticed the purple color and the aroma it had.
…Wait. This is-!
“Mm-hmm. It’s a cup of Chesto Juice. I asked Mr. Farfetch’d if he could run down to the cafe and get it for you.”
I excitedly sat up when she told me what it was and stared at the cup, eagerly waiting for her to hand it over. Miss Audino giggled at my reaction before giving it to me.
“Here you go, dear. It’s all yours,” she said.
I thanked her once more, took the cup from her, and quickly chugged the Chesto Juice down. Within seconds, I could feel my body regaining energy, and the drowsiness that was plaguing my body vanished. My mind felt a lot clearer, too. I sighed in satisfaction and smiled happily. Oh, yeah. I felt soooo much better.
Miss Audino noticed that I was in much better spirits and gave me a warm smile. “Oh, what a relief. I’m glad to see that you’re back to your usual self. I was pretty concerned about you during class, you know?”
Wait, she was concerned about me? Does that mean…?
As if she knew what I was thinking, she nodded. “Yep. I didn’t buy it when you told me that you were feeling fine this morning. I just knew that something was wrong. I am a nurse, after all.~”
Gah, that’s right! If she’s a nurse, then I guess she’d be more observant of this type of stuff, wouldn’t she?
I mentally facepalmed and awkwardly scratched the back of my head for being caught in such a blatant lie. I was about to apologize for fibbing, but then I noticed that Miss Audino’s expression had shifted into a serious one.
“Um, while we’re on the subject…” she started.
Noting her sudden shift in mood, I looked at her with a neutral expression and waited for her to finish her sentence.
“…Why were you so tired this morning, anyway? You didn’t stay up too late last night, did you?” she asked.
I shook my head, causing her to tilt her head in confusion. “No…? Did you have troubling sleeping, then? Or did you have trouble staying asleep?” she asked.
Once again, I shook my head at both of her questions. The truth was, I had an idea as to why I felt so tired today. It had to be because of that dream I had. Although, I was kinda hesitant to call it a dream. After all, it felt so…real. I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream that was so vivid before. I don’t know for sure if that’s what caused it or even how it would be able to cause it, but I just can’t shake the feeling that it somehow has something to do with it.
“…Is that right? Hmm…” Miss Audino stared at me for a few more seconds, trying to think of a possible cause to my exhaustion. However, it seemed like she couldn’t think of anything, because she ended up closing her eyes and sighing.
“I see…That’s pretty strange…and a little worrying,” she said with a concerned expression on her face.
“…”
As soon as those words left her mouth and I saw her expression, I couldn’t help but frown. Don’t get me wrong - I appreciated her for being concerned about me, but at the same time, I kinda…didn’t want her to. It…made me feel guilty. I mean, just look at Pops. When we talked about it yesterday and this morning, it ended up stressing him out a lot. Well, of course it would - I am his daughter, but still…I just don’t want other Pokémon to worry about me so much…
After all, I…I’m not someone who’s worth stressing over…
Miss Audino noticed me frowning and quickly shook her head. “O-oh, there’s no need to worry! I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I’m just confused as to why it’s happening. …Er, this is the first time it’s happened to you, right?” she asked.
I nodded my head. Technically, that was a lie. I’ve woken up feeling just as bad for the past few weeks, but this is the first time I’ve had a weird dream to go along with it.
“Hmm…okay, then. Like I said before, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. It was probably just a one-time thing. But, if it does happen again, please don’t hesitate to come to me, alright?” she asked.
…!
“If it happens again, please don’t hesitate to come to me.”
…
“Very well. I’ll choose to believe your words for the time being. But…if you have any sort of problem, you had better talk to me about it like you promised you would, understood?”
…Again. That guilty feeling washed over me again.
I just couldn’t help it. Yesterday, when Pops brought up my sleeping issues, I told him that I would tell him if something else happened to me, and now, Miss Audino is asking me to do the same with her. It just…bothered me. I know it shouldn’t - it meant she cared about me and just wanted to help. But it did. Having other Pokémon worry over me like this. It felt…wrong. After all, to everyone else, I was nothing but a troublemaker, right? I did nothing but cause trouble for others, even when I didn’t mean to. So, why?
Why would anyone ever be concerned about someone as bothersome as me?
“…Nozomi?”
“…!”
Realizing that I had stayed quiet for a while, I quickly looked at Miss Audino, who was staring at me with the same concerned expression from earlier.
“You looked like you had zoned out for a moment. Are you sure you’re alright? Do you still feel tired?” she asked.
I shook my head at her, then told her that if I felt like this in the future, I’d tell her.
…It was the third lie that I told her today.
Miss Audino smiled at my reply gave a satisfied hum. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear. I wouldn’t want you walking around the village while you’re still half-asleep, you know?” she said with a chuckle. I chuckled as well, hoping that she wouldn’t catch on to how guilty I felt in that moment.
After that, she looked around for a moment before letting out a gasp, causing me to look at her in confusion.
“Oh, dear! That’s right! School’s already been let out! I didn’t mean to keep you here for so long!”
…!
Oh, she’s right! School was already over. I had kinda forgotten about that…
She turned back to me and gave me a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry, Nozomi. We were talking for so long, I ended up losing track of time. If you’re ready to leave, then you can head out right now.” she said as she pointed to the exit.
I nodded at her and stood up from my seat. Then I headed down the slope and walked past the school gate.
“Take care! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Miss Audino shouted.
I looked back at her and gave her a small smile before I finally left. While I was walking on the path to the village, I thought more about our conversation - more specifically, about the fact the I ended up lying to her about my situation. A part of me was upset with myself for constantly lying about it, but it was for the best. I didn’t wanna inconvenience her with my problems. Besides, if I’m right about this, I already have an idea as to why this was happening. Like I mentioned earlier, that weird dream seems to have something to do with this. I have no proof - that’s just the feeling I have. Hmm…I wonder if I’ll have the same dream tonight? If if do, maybe I could get some answers. Maybe I could try talking to that creepy voice, see if it knows anything.
…Now that I mention it, I haven’t mentioned my dream to Pops yet. Should I tell him…?
Yeah…I guess I should. Even if I didn’t want him to worry, he is my dad. He has a right to know. And besides, unlike with Miss Audino, I did promise that I would.
Before I realized it, I had arrived in the plaza. I stopped and looked around in surprise. The walk from school to Serene Village seemed a lot shorter for some reason. Maybe it was because I was wrapped up in my own thoughts.
Anyway, I stood there for a moment, wondering what to do next. I had all this time to kill, and it would be a waste to just go home now…
…Oh, wait!
Pops said that he would be home early today, didn’t he? He said that we would eat dinner together!
I smiled excitedly at the idea of actually being able to spend some time with him. We haven’t spent some quality time together for a while. Even if it was something as simple as eating dinner with each other, it was still enough to make me happy.
With a wide smile still on my face, I started running towards the direction of my house, eager to see Pops and fill myself up with delicious food. Aw, man! This is gonna be great-
…Huh?
I suddenly stopped in my tracks when I noticed something odd in the corner of my eye. I turned to my left and saw Deerling and Shelmet together. They were having a conversation, and it looked like they were both upset about something. I slowly walked closer towards them until I could hear what they were both saying.
“…What?! Goomy did?!” Deerling asked with a look of shock on her face.
“Yeah, well, he insisted on going-“ Shelmet said before Deerling quickly cut him off.
“No more excuses, Shelmet!” Deerling shouted, clearly angry at him. “Tell me the truth! You and Pancham pushed him into this, didn’t you?”
When I heard Deerling say that, I couldn’t help but frown in concern. Of course, I don’t have all the details yet, but from what I’ve heard so far, it seems like Pancham and Shelmet goaded Goomy into doing some crazy dare. If that’s actually what happened, then I wouldn’t be surprised. Though it’s not as bad as when they pick on me, Pancham and Shelmet also tend to mess with Goomy from time to time. They usually do so by riling him up into doing something reckless so he can prove himself to them. And it always ends the same way - with Goomy getting into some sort of trouble and needing someone else - usually Deerling - to bail him out. But still, even though they don’t mess with him as much, it’s still upsetting whenever they do. After all, Goomy is younger than us, so the heckling is going to get him more than it would me. Thankfully, Deerling’s usually around to make sure things never gets out of hand. But it looks like she wasn’t able to keep things from escalating this time…
Shelmet nervously squirmed for a bit before speaking again. “Th-that’s…not fair, Deerling! He’s the one who said he wanted to go! How can you stand there and blame us?”
“Quite easily. You’re the ones who are always teasing poor Goomy, after all! Someday you’re going to go too far, and it’ll be too late for sorries then!” Deerling replied in a stern tone.
Shelmet let out a small gulp. “I-I know that! No need to worry so much!”
“You’re going to show me the way there. Right now,” Deerling commanded, her intense expression never leaving her face.
Shelmet hastily complied and with a defeated sigh, led Deerling to wherever they left Goomy.
Huh…so it looks like I was right, after all. I shook my head as an annoyed sigh left my beak. Darn it, you two…don’t you have anything better to do than pick on a little kid? You can be so irritating sometimes…
…Though I guess I don’t have a lot of room to talk, do I?
…
Well, whatever.
After hearing all of that, I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I wanna help, too! I wanna make sure Goomy’s okay! And, from the way they were talking, it sounds like Goomy could have gone to a Mystery Dungeon. If that’s true, then I definitely want to go with them! Traversing through a Mystery Dungeon, battling against fierce Pokémon…it’s just an adventure waiting to happen!
…Ah, but would they even let me?
If I just barged in and said I wanted to help, Pancham and Shelmet would probably make fun of me and tell me I’d just get in the way. Even Deerling might try to stop me…As much as I don’t wanna admit it, I know that I don’t have the best relationship with my classmates. Even though I’ve tried my best to get closer to them, my reputation as “Serene Village’s Resident Troublemaker” makes it hard to make friends. Heck, I think the only other kid in the village who doesn’t mind being around me as much is Espurr…
B-but that doesn’t matter right now! I wanna help Goomy, so I’m gonna help Goomy! It doesn’t matter if they don’t want me around! I’m not going to sit here while he could be in trouble!
With a determined expression on my face, I nodded to myself and ran towards the village gate. Deerling and Shelmet shouldn’t have gone that far yet. I’ll follow both of them from a distance and see where they end up going…
A LITTLE BIT LATER…
Thankfully, the trip to where Goomy was didn’t take too long. Though, it would make sense that it wouldn’t. I doubt they would go anywhere too far from the village. As I kept tailing Deerling and Shelmet, I quickly looked around to see where we were. However, it only took me a few seconds to figure out where Goomy ended up going.
…The Foreboding Forest.
My eyes widened slightly as that realization sank in. Pops has constantly told me to stay away from this place, just like with most of the other Mystery Dungeons. Just like the name suggests, the dungeon is bad news. It’s an ominous, sinister forest with almost no light shining in it, meaning that it’s constantly dark. Combine that spooky atmosphere with the wild Pokémon crawling around in there, and you’re in for quite the experience…
It’s absolutely perfect! This is just the type of dungeon that I’d wanna go through!
…
…U-um, but that’s not important right now. Goomy’s safety is the top priority!
I continued lagging behind the two until they both reached the entrance to the forest. That’s when I saw Pancham standing there, tapping his foot impatiently. It looked like he had been waiting there for a while already. But once he saw Deerling and Shelmet approaching him, he widened his eyes in surprise.
“Huh? Shelmet? Why’d you bring Deerling here? I mean, I’m not complaining, but-“
“I made him lead me here. He told me about your stupid little dare,” Deerling said angrily, catching Pancham off guard. He quickly turned to Shelmet and gave him a angry glare.
“Dude, you told her?!” he asked.
“She forced it outta me! It’s not my fault!” Shelmet quickly replied.
Deerling ignored the two and looked around for a bit before realizing that Goomy was nowhere to be seen. She turned back to look at the boys and interrupted their bickering.
“…Where is he?”
Upon hearing this, Pancham and Shelmet both exchanged awkward glances before Pancham decided to speak up.
“Uh…still in the forest?”
Deerling couldn’t help but stare at him in shock in response to his answer. “What?! He still hasn’t come back out?”
Pancham nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s been a pretty long time, too. I knew he was a total wimp,” he said with a smug smile on his face.
“No surprise there. He shoulda just admitted what a wimp he is and kept his mouth shut.” Shelmet added.
“But he had to go and talk big, like he could handle that kind of place. He was boasting, saying, ‘I’ll show you!’. That’s what got him into this mess.”
“He’s probably huddled up somewhere in the forest, petrified and sniffing back tears!”
The two boys both started laughing at their own insults towards Goomy, causing Deerling to become even more upset at them.
“You are so mean, Pancham! Goomy isn’t even the same age as us yet!” she shouted.
The two stopped laughing and looked at her again.
“Yeah, but he’s the one who talks big. He got what was coming to him. We figure it’s our job to teach him a little something about how harsh the world is,” Pancham replied.
“And if something happens to him in there? What are you going to do then, huh?” Deerling paused and looked at the two before shaking her head disapprovingly at them. “I’m going in after them!”
She tried heading into the Forboding Forest, but she was quickly stopped by Pancham and Shelmet, who had worried expressions on their faces.
“No way! You can’t go in there, Deerling!” Shelmet shouted.
“What if something happened to you? We can’t let that happen to our idol! We’re not letting you set foot in such a dangerous place!” Pancham said, agreeing with his friend.
Deerling backed up and looked at both of them in disbelief before groaning in frustration. “Are you kidding me? Then fine! You go in after him!”
When he heard what Deerling had said, Pancham froze. He stared at her awkwardly, hoping that she was somehow joking.
…She was dead serious.
When he realized that, he gulped and awkwardly repeated what she said.
“Y-you want us to go? Into the Foreboding Forest?”
He quickly glanced at the path that led deeper into the forest, then looked back at Deerling, who was still visibly angry.
“…No way. Why would we do that?”
…
…
…
I couldn’t help but sigh disappointingly at his answer. Typical Pancham. He talks a big game, but is never able to back it up.
Deerling, rather than say anything, just kept staring at him, her eyes full of a silent rage that I rarely see from her.
Pancham flinched at her death glare before shaking his head and trying to elaborate.
“I mean, it’s n-not that we’re scared or anything like that. I d-don’t want you getting the wrong idea or whatever. You understand, right?”
…Oh, brother. You were picking on Goomy for being scared earlier, but now you’re saying stuff like this? Ugh, whatever. I suppose now would be a good time to show myself.
I stepped away from the tree I was hiding behind and started walking towards the three. They all heard me approaching and quickly turned around to see what was making the noise.
“Hello?! Who’s there?” Deerling shouted, slightly startled.
I kept walking until I was clearly visible to all of them. When they saw me standing there, they stared at me with confused expressions.
“N-Nozomi?!” Deerling blurted out.
“What the heck are you doing here?!” Pancham asked.
Shelmet kept staring at me until he figured out what happened. “Wait…did you follow us?!” he asked.
Oof…looks like the Skitty’s out of the bag.
I nodded, causing Pancham to groan.
“Ugh, seriously?! We’re already in the middle of something here. We don’t need to deal with you, too!” he said, clearly annoyed just by the fact that I was here.
Deerling turned to Pancham and gave him another glare. “Knock it off, Pancham. You’re in no position to act like that,” she said.
Pancham crossed him arms and looked down with a grunt. “Hmph…”
Then she turned back to me with a confused expression. “But seriously, why did you follow us?” she asked.
…
“So you heard our conversation in the village and wanted to help Goomy…” Deerling summarized.
I nodded and told them that I was willing to go into the Foreboding Forest to look for him.
When I said that, Deerling gave me a concerned look. “A-are you sure? This is the Foreboding Forest we’re talking about. This place is pretty dangerous…you could get hurt if you’re not careful,” she warned me.
Pancham turned to her and scoffed. “Oh, please. It’s not like this is anything new for her. After all, she’s an expert at going into places she doesn’t belong,” he said mockingly.
…Well, he’s not wrong.
Deerling turned to Pancham and gave him yet another angry glare, instantly causing him to clam up. Heh, like I said, all bark and no bite.
It looked like Deerling was about to shout at him again, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she stopped herself and looked down as if she was thinking about something. Then she looked back up at Pancham and spoke.
“…Actually, Pancham, why don’t you tag along with Nozomi?”
Pancham and I both looked at her with a confused expression.
“Wait, what?!” we both shouted in unison.
“I’d be uncomfortable having Nozomi go into the Foreboding Forest all by herself. And you and Shelmet refuse to let me step even one foot in there. So the only other Pokémon who can go with her are you and Shelmet. So unless Shelmet wants to go instead…” she said as she turned to the Bug-Type Pokémon.
Shelmet tensed up and started to stammer. “Uh…well…I…”
“…I’ll take that as a no,” Deerling simply said, then turned back to Pancham. “Well, Pancham? You said you weren’t scared earlier, right? So it shouldn’t be a problen…right?” she said with a slightly smug smirk on her face.
Pancham glanced at me, then at the entrance to the forest, then back to Deerling. It looked like there was no talking his way out of this one…at least, not without hurting his precious ego. I had to hand it to Deerling…she got him good. She had him completely backed into a corner.
Pancham stayed quiet for a few more seconds until he let out a low growl and furrowed his brow. “F-fine! I’ll go with her! You happy now?” he asked.
Deerling nodded and let out a content hum. “Then I guess that’s settled! We’ll leave it to you two!” she said with a smile.
I couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the way things turned out. As cool as it was watching Deerling one-upping Pancham like that, in the end, it meant that I had to go through the Foreboding Forest with him. I know Deerling said she was worried about me going by myself, but I honestly would have preferred that than going with Pancham.
Pancham grumbled to himself for a bit before turning to me. “Hey, Nozomi! Listen up, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once. Shelmet and I placed a big piece of paper in the forest for Goomy to find. It’s not that far from the entrance, which means that he shouldn’t have gone too far. The two of us are gonna find Goomy as quickly as possible and come straight back here. No wandering off, no taking any detours, and no staying in one place for too long, you got that?! We’re looking for Goomy, not going on one of your stupid ‘adventures!’”
“…”
I gave him a small glare before nodding at him. It’s not like he needed to tell me not to do that stuff. I’m not that irresponsible…am I?
Deerling looked at both of us, suddenly being reminded of the history we had with each other. Then she walked over to me with a small frown and started to whisper.
“Nozomi, are you sure you’re alright with this? I know I kind of forced Pancham to go with you, but I could always go instead. I know you two don’t get along that well, so I could always take his place. I doubt he’d try to stop me this time if I offered to…” she said.
I shook my head and declined her offer. Yeah, Pancham and I weren’t on the best of terms, but who knows? Maybe going through this dungeon together would bring us closer together!
…
…
…
…Yeah, probably not…That’s just wishful thinking on my part…
But even so, I still think Pancham should come with me. He’s the one who got Goomy into this mess, after all. It’s only fair that he helped look for him.
Deerling, despite still seeming a little worried, nodded and backed away from me. Then she faced the both me and Pancham. “Okay, then. If the both of you are ready, then hurry and head into the forest. Let’s try to find Goomy before it gets too dark,” she said.
I hummed to acknowledge what she said while Pancham just let out of “Hmph.”. Then he started walking towards the entrance of the Forbidden Forest.
“Let’s get this over with,” he simply said.
After he said that, I quickly followed behind him, marking the beginning of our quest to find Goomy. As we both walked deeper into the forest, we heard Deerling and Shelmet shouting at us to be careful and that they’ll be waiting for us. Hearing that caused me to smile a little, knowing that despite us not being all that close, they still cared enough about us to say something like that. Even Shelmet, who picks on me just as much as Pancham does. Though, maybe he was saying all that to just Pancham instead of both of us…Meh, it didn’t matter now.
…
…
…
When we both entered the first floor of the Forbidden Forest, I took a quick moment to look around. The place was even darker when you were actually inside of it. The tall trees managed to block most of the sunlight from shining down into the dungeon. Speaking of plants, all of the greenery was all dark and gloomy-looking. There wasn’t a single bright and vibrant plant anywhere to be seen. Yeesh, now that I’m experiencing it for myself, I can see why other Pokémon tend to avoid it like the plague…
“Hey, Nozomi!”
“…!”
I was pulled out of my thoughts by an annoyed-looking Pancham, who was tugging on my flipper.
“Come on, pick up the pace! We don’t have all day, you know,” he said.
Ugh…I can’t even look around without Pancham getting on my case. Maybe I should have let Deerling come with me, after all…
I simply nodded and walked closely behind him. Our plan was to head deeper into the forest until we eventually spotted Goomy. The farthest he should have gone was a little past the 4th floor, where Pancham and Shelmet set up the paper. So like Pancham said earlier, this shouldn’t take too long if we kept moving.
After a little bit of walking, Pancham started shouting for Goomy to see if he was around here somewhere.
“Hey, Goomy! Can you hear us?! It’s Pancham and Nozomi! We’re here to get you outta here!” he shouted while looking around for him.
…No response.
Pancham groaned. “…Didn’t think it would be that easy. He’s probably deeper in the forest. Come on. Let’s keep going,” he said.
The two of us kept looking around, trying to be as thorough as possible. As small as this floor was, it was easy to miss another Pokémon if you weren’t paying attention. The forest was covered in all sorts of thick greenery too, so that made it more difficult to clearly see everything around us. We would also occasionally run into some lower-level Pokémon that would try to attack us. We dealt with them easily enough, but they kinda slowed us down. With all of this extra stuff we had to deal with, finding Goomy quickly ended up becoming tedious. And we were still only on the first floor…
Eventually, Pancham groaned and kicked the ground in frustration.
“Ugh, we’ve searched every nook and cranny of this floor and we didn’t find him! Don’t tell me he actually managed to make it to where Shelmet and I placed the paper?”
I shrugged. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But since we didn’t know for sure, we’d have to check the next couple of floors like this.
When Pancham heard me say that, he rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance. “Tch…what a pain.”
I turned to him with my brow slightly furrowed. Pancham noticed me looking at him and frowned.
“…What?”
…
“If it was such a pain, then why did I make him come here…? I didn’t make him do anything! He’s the one who decided to go!” Pancham retorted.
Yeah, probably because you kept making fun of him, you doof…
Pancham heard me say that under my breath and stopped walking. “Who the heck are you calling a ‘doof’?! And like you’re one to talk! You’re always getting Goomy into trouble by dragging him into those adventures of yours!” he shot back.
“…!”
T-that’s…he’s not wrong, but…
Noticing that I was stunned into silence, he kept speaking. “Be honest. You didn’t come here because you care about Goomy. You came here because it was just another adventure to you, right? Goomy was the last thing on your mind!” he said.
That’s not true at all. Sure, I was excited at the idea of coming here, but rescuing Goomy came first! He was my top priority!
“Yeah, right. That was probably just a convenient lie you came up with. You constantly get Goomy into trouble, and now you’re suddenly worried about him? I don’t buy that for one second,” he said with his arms crossed.
I don’t care if you buy it or not, it’s the truth…!
He kept ignoring what I was saying and continued his verbal assault. “And to think someone like you wants to join the Expedition Society. Do you really think they’d wanna accept someone who’s constantly hurting other Pokémon with their stupid antics?”
S-stop it…
“Face it, Nozomi. You’re just a selfish brat who doesn’t care about anyone but herself. There’s no way you’d ever be useful to anyone!” he said with a smug smile.
“!!!”
Who…who the heck does he think he is?!
He’s going on and on as if he knows anything about me…! I-I know I can be selfish sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about others. I…
At this point, I was genuinely starting to get upset. I was trying my best to hold it together, but the last thing he said…it made me feel something I couldn’t even describe. It was one of the most unpleasant feelings I’ve ever experienced.
…
I…don’t mean to cause problems for others…I just…
…
Pancham was about to say something else to me, probably another mean-spirited remark about me.
…That’s when he noticed the tears forming in my eyes.
“Wha…?”
“…”
His smug smile from earlier instantly vanished, and his eyes widened in shock. He just stared at me looking at the ground, trying my hardest not to cry.
After a few more seconds had passed, he looked down with a guilty expression on his face and sighed quietly.
“Aw, crud…” he said to himself before looking back up at me. “Hey, Nozomi, I didn’t…”
*growl*
“Wha-?”
Huh…? W-what was that?
I quickly wiped my eyes and shook my head, directing my attention to the sudden growling noise. Pancham did the same and got into a defensive stance.
“Goomy…? Is that you?” he asked. We both knew the answer already, but he probably asked just to be on the safe side.
…No response.
I followed Pancham’s lead and braced myself for what was about to happen. We briefly looked at each other, then turned back to the bush.
…
…
…
Ah, come on! The anticipation is killing me! We know it’s a wild Pokémon! Just hurry up and show yourself so we can clobber you-
Then, as if the dungeon somehow heard what I was thinking, two Furfrou appeared from the bush. Hold up…two?! I was expecting just one! And these two seem two be stronger than the other Pokémon we ran into earlier…cripes! This isn’t good!
“Holy-!” Pancham shouted, slightly startled.
The two Furfrou slowly approached the two of us, snarling with malicious intent. They both sheathed their claws as they were about to attack.
Pancham gulped and turned to me to see what I was doing, only to be shocked to see me simply staring both of them down.
“H-hey, Nozomi! What the heck are you doing?! Staring at them isn’t gonna make them stop. We gotta attack or use an item or something!” he said.
I internally scoffed at Pancham’s remark. Duh, you doof. I knew that already. I’m just waiting until they get close enough…
A few seconds passed and two Furfrou were only a couple of feet from us. I kept staring at them, waiting for them to make the first move. That’s when one of them suddenly tried to pounce on me.
“Nozomi!” Pancham shouted.
Heheheh…you’ve fallen right into my trap.
Mud-Slap!
I used Mud-Slap to hurl mud into the Furfrou’s eyes, instantly blinding them. Their attack was interrupted and they were stumbling around in confusion, trying to find me. However, I didn’t give it the chance as I immediately used my Bubble attack to finish it off.
Enraged by the fact that I KO’d its ally, the other Furfrou did the same thing it did and pounced on me. I was about to do the same thing as before, but that’s when Pancham got in front of me.
“Arm Thrust!”
Pancham managed to land five blows to the wild Pokémon before it went down. Once he knew for sure that it was knocked out, he gave it a cheeky grin and started boasting.
“Ha! Take that, you mangy mutt!” he said.
I watched him go on like that for a bit before shaking my head and sighing. Geez…he never passes up an opportunity to show off, does he? But, man, that was pretty surprising, getting ambushed like that. Although…now that I think about it, that was odd. I thought the Furfrou seemed stronger, but we managed to take them down pretty quickly. What’s with that…?
After he was done taunting the Furfrou, he turned back to me. “Heh. Looks like we managed to teach both of them a lesson!” he said with his hands placed confidently on his hips.
Yeah…I guess so?
…
I slowly walked over and examined both of the Furfrou out of curiosity. Pancham watched me and gave me a confused expression.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked.
I told him what I was thinking earlier, that these Furfrou seemed too easy to beat and that I wanted to take a closer look at them.
“Maybe they weren’t as tough as you thought? Or maybe we were just that much stronger than the two of them?” he said with the same confident tone.
I simply rolled my eyes and kept looking at them. Maybe they had gotten injured before we fought them and that’s why we didn’t struggle that much? No, there’s no way. I didn’t see any injures before-
“…!?”
Wait, what the-?!
Pancham saw my surprised expression and tilted his head curiously. “What? What is it?” he asked.
Both of them…there both had burn marks under their fur!
“What?!” Pancham shouted, running over to get a look.
I double-checked to see if maybe I was imagining things, but no matter how you looked at it, they were definitely burn marks. And, to make things more confusing, they looked...recent? So…this was the reason we took them down so easily. They were already injured…
Pancham stared at the burn marks for a few more seconds, then turned to me.
“Okay…that’s pretty weird. So, what? Were they attacked by another Pokémon or something?”
…Well, that had to be the case, right? The only thing capable of giving burns like this is another Pokémon…probably a Fire-type one. But if that’s the case, who did this? It couldn’t have been another dungeon Pokémon. After all, it didn’t seem like there were any Fire-type Pokémon around here…
Before I could get a chance to think about it some more, I was pulled out of my thoughts by a loud rustling noise.
“Oh, come on. Again?!” Pancham said, furrowing his brow angrily.
Another Pokémon? So soon after those two? Geez, what a pain…Oh, well. I guess it can’t be helped.
Just like last time, we both got into defensive stances and waited for our next opponent to show themselves. The rustling got louder and louder until it eventually reached the same bush the Furfrou jumped out of. We both glared at the bush, expecting the Pokémon to jump out just like those two.
However, we were both caught off guard when we heard a voice from the bush.
“Ugh…I forgot how much of a hassle it was to navigate through the Foreboding Forest. There’s so much shrubbery everywhere…”
Pancham and I quickly glanced at each other before turning back to the bush. That…that wasn’t a dungeon Pokémon.
They came from outside the dungeon, just like us.
From the sound of their voice, they didn’t seem much older than us, either. They had to have been around our age. But…hold on. It didn’t sound like Goomy’s voice…Did that mean that there was another kid in here? But I didn’t recognize it. It didn’t sound like any of the kids from the Village…so who was this Pokémon?
My question would quickly be answered as the mysterious Pokémon casually stepped outside the bush. The moment they did, my eyes widened in surprise. The Pokémon in question had a exploration bag on them, and they were wearing this weird bracelet-looking thing on their wrist. Despite the fact that they were a child, they had a stoic look on their face and slightly baggy eyes. But what interested me the most was the type of Pokémon they were. They were a Fire-type.
…Specifically, a Charmander.
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