thisonegirl

25 y/o angolan multi-stan ⚠️mature content⚠️ MINORS DNI I quite literally like everything, as you will soon come to see masterlists

[thisonegirl]

↬ main masterlist

↬ fic rec masterlist

↬ book rec masterlist 2026

↬ 16 days of summer masterlist

relevant tags for in-blog navigation - thisonegirl materlist ; thisonegirlwrites ; thisonegirl fanfic ; thisone girl memes ; thisonegirl answers ; thisonegirl reads

Enjoy <3

header by ThisOneGirl (me)

[thisonegirl]

[completed 22.06.26] ✅

moodboard by thisonegirl

[thisonegirl]

[completed 16.06.26] ✅

moodboard by thisonegirl

[thisonegirl]

[completed 24.02.26] ✅

moodboard by thisonegirl

[thisonegirl]

List of books I've read in 2026

ps: I'm ashamed at how little I've read thus far

animal farm — george orwell [completed 24.02.26]

the song of achilles — madeline miller [completed 16.06.26]

brave new world — aldous huxley [completed 22.06.26]

norwegian wood — haruki murakami [to start]

[thisonegirl]

a part of me mourns not being able to experience this when I was a child, but still grateful and deeply satisfied all the same

[thisonegirl]

I didn’t even know y’all existed 😬😬 my deepest apologies ❤️‍🩹

[thisonegirl]

In the later half of month of June, I'll be sharing a piece of fanfiction a day for 16 days straight. I'm challenging myself with this as a way to keep developing my writing skills and also be more active on this blog.

I'll be writing stand-alone stories but I will still be open to multi-parts stories if the demand calls for it.

Hope you enjoy my work and follow along <3

Main masterlist

↬  15/06/2026 | Jujutsu Kaisen | Hiromi Higuruma | sfw

↬  16/06/2026 | Dune | Feyd-Rautha Harkkonen | nsfw

↬  17/06/2026 | Gachiakuta | Enjin | nsfw

↬  18/06/2026 | My Hero Academia | Aizawa Shota | sfw

↬  19/06/2026 | A Knight Of The Seven Kingdoms | Ser Dunk The Tall | sfw

↬  20/06/2026 | Outer Banks | JJ Maybank | sfw

↬ 21/06/2026 | Jujutsu Kaisen | Geto Suguru | nsfw

↬  22/06/2026 | Off Campus | Dean Di Laurentis | nsfw

↬  23/06/2026 | Windbreaker | Hajime Umemiya | sfw

↬   24/06/2026 | Dune | Duncan Idaho | nsfw

↬  25/06/2026 | Attack On Titan | Reiner Braun | nsfw

↬  26/06/2026 | Ballad of Songbird and Snakes | Coriolanus Snow | nsfw (very mild)

↬  27/06/2026 | Avatar: The Last Airbender | Fire Lord Zuko | nsfw (very mild)

↬  28/06/2026 | Marvel Cinematic Universe | Bucky Barnes | sfw

↬  29/06/2026 | Snowpiercer | Curtis Everett | nsfw

↬  30/06/2026 | Suzume | Souta Munakata | sfw

[thisonegirl]

It's officially the end of the 16 Days Of Summer challenge. This was such a fun way to challenge myself and push myself to develop what I love doing most.

Thank you so much to everyone who read my works, and once again, I really hope you enjoyed them.

Please provide some feedback if you can and it's not too much of a hassle. Would love to hear more about what you guys think.

Much love 💗

-ThisOneGirl

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Suzume

Character: Souta Munakata

Rating: sfw

Word count: 910

Warnings: just sweetness (an attempt at it)

masterlist

The door was real. 

You could barely believe it even as you walked away from the abandoned neighborhood you had stumbled into mere minutes ago. It was eerily silent, and the sinister abandoned buildings left you feeling scared and regretful for coming in the first place. You were, however, somewhat comforted by Souta’s firm, calm resolve.

He was kind enough to carry you on his back as you went up the hill under the scorching sun. You were both sweating profusely, and were both quite tired from the trip. Souta was guiding you back into the little coastal town, from where your journey began. You had been looking forward to soaking a bit in the crystal clear water that seemed to be even more inviting as you melted under the intense summer heat, but now you were just attempting to process what you had seen.

Complaining would get you nowhere, especially considering you’d agreed to come with him. And asking questions wasn’t necessary, considering he had already told you most of it before.

♡ 

“Say that again, and slowly this time so that you can process what’s coming out of your mouth.” 

Brow raised and jaw slack as you looked at the handsome bastard in front of you. His story baffled you beyond what your vocabulary could express.

Souta was a funny, kind and very clever man. He had a tendency to disappear on spontaneous trips. He was young after all, and this was the best time to explore the world. You liked him enough to cheer him on and wait for his return, but maybe not enough to have him play in your face.

“I know, it’s shocking and it sounds insane…”

“You got that right, at least,” you snorted.

“But, it’s true. I thought that if we were going to get serious, you needed to know about this.” The seriousness in his tone almost made you believe him, but the sheer ridiculousness of what he was telling you wasn’t something you could look past.

“So you go around Japan closing cosmic doors that cause natural disasters?”

“Yes.”

“Souta, if you think I’m this stupid, I don’t think we’re going to work out,” you sighed, closing your textbook  and stuffing it in your bag.

“What?” he exclaimed, genuinely shocked at the turn of the conversation he thought would strengthen your blooming relationship. You packed the rest of your things as Souta stumbled over his words, but you barely even understood what he was saying. Not that you were putting in the effort anyway.

“I promise I’m telling the truth,” he said desperately, following you out of the campus library. You rolled your eyes, still ignoring the rambling man. 

“Sure… I believe you. I’ve seen my fair share of supernatural things too,” you said cheerily. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes and he felt relief slowly sink in. “My closet is actually a doorway to a monster corporation that focuses on scaring children to half-death. It’s quite dreadful.”

He deadpanned. He scoured his brain thinking of how to make you believe him, and it lit up like a light bulb in his head. 

“Come with me this time.”

♡

Damn you and your curiosity.

You decided to walk the rest of the way when you reached level ground. Souta had let you soak everything in. A part of him was worried you’d definitely leave, but another part of him was glad that he was able to show you this very important side of him.

A refreshing breeze blew by, cooling you slightly. The mental exertion gave you a headache and the heat worsened it. Your hand was in Souta’s, sweaty and all, but it felt imperative to keep touching him in some way. Almost as if you were scared he’d disappear. You thought of the story you so carelessly dismissed and the fear of potentially losing him to such a dangerous task, no matter how important it was.

You found a bench by the beach. The view was breathtaking. The setting sun cast a golden glow across the sea.

The words were hard to come by. You had no idea what you could possibly say other than “I’m sorry”.

“What are you apologising for?” he chuckled, turning to look at you. He seemed so at ease, so peaceful and you couldn’t understand how. He truly was a strong man.

“For how I spoke to you a few days ago on campus,” you clarified. The shame you felt peeked through in your voice.

“Don’t worry about it.” The smile on his face was so tender, you wondered if you deserved it.

“So…” you began awkwardly, “doors, huh?”

He cackled, “Yes, doors…”

“And what happens if you don’t make it in time?”

“Disasters,” he responded flatly.

“Huh…” was all you could say in return in light of his nonchalance.

“Do you do this alone?” you asked.

“Yep.”

“Is that even more dangerous?” You frowned, feeling a bit concerned.

“Yes but I’m used to it.”

“Would you want company?”

“Why? Do you wanna join me?” he teased. “You were horrified back there. Are you sure you’d be able to keep up?”

“I think I’d feel better actually being with you,” you admitted. “I don’t think I’d have any peace whenever you’re gone.”

“Sure,” he said, smiling. “If it will make you feel better.”

“It will,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder and watching the sun on the horizon.

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Snowpiercer

Character: Curtis Everett

Rating: nsfw

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, grief, angst, mentions of death, age gap

Song: I found - Amber Run

masterlist

You were sweating under the heavy layers of clothes. They were old and rotten, and barely did their job of keeping you warm. The cold in the Tail of the train was piercing, but you still had to be grateful for the scraps you were given in order to survive. You couldn’t really complain either way since you didn’t remember life before the train. You were three years old when your now deceased mother boarded it with you. It was a miracle that you had survived the first years on the never-ending trip, but here you were, in a time of relative peace. Yet your body let out buckets of sweat, under the stress you were under.

“Here you go,” Curtis’ gruff voice said from above you, handing you a protein bar. The disgusting gelatin block that you had known all your life. You took it, but didn’t eat immediately, letting it rest on your lap.

“What’s going on?” he asked, crouching down to the level of your shared bunk bed.

“Nothing,” you responded softly. The frown on your face didn’t match the answer.

“If you keep frowning like that, you’ll get wrinkles,” he joked, rubbing the middle of your forehead with his thumb.

“I’ll get wrinkles either way,” you retorted.

“You’ll get them faster if you keep worrying your little head with whatever it is you won’t tell me,” he shot back. You looked down, biting your lip, a nasty habit you had that left your lips rough and sometimes bloody.

“Right…” You weren’t as brave and courageous as Curtis, as you felt it now more than usual.

“You're worried about the plan?” he asked.

“Of course I am!” you burst out. “I don’t understand why you need to do this, Curtis. It won’t end well.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes we do! It’s happened before!”

“It’s worth trying to get out of this dump. We deserve more than this,” he said firmly. “You’ve never known any better than this so of course you don’t get it. But I promise you, it will be worth everything we’re risking.

“Even your life?”

“Especially my life.”

You stared at him. It was only then that he noticed your bloodshot eyes and raw, quivering lower lip. The anger and anxiety were written across your face.

“What would make you stop?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even for me?”

His eyes always had a sadness to them. You had never seen him with a smile that reached them. You didn’t doubt he was happy to be with you but the burden of being in the Tail was a heaviness that he could never forget or ignore. 

“Eat,” he said, handing you his protein block as well before leaving.

You didn’t see him for the rest of the day. The blocks remained uneaten, wrapped in a cloth to be saved for when your appetite returned. When night came you snuggled against the wall side of the bunk bed, leaving Curtis’ side open for when he decided to join you.

Fighting the exhaustion gave you a headache but you knew Curtis well enough to know that he was counting down the time for you to fall asleep before returning. Your efforts were rewarded as you felt him climb in behind you. You turned around, surprising him as he thought you were sleeping. There was a hint of annoyance as he braced himself to continue the earlier conversation.

To his surprise, you remained quiet. Your hand trailed down to his crotch, undoing the belt and buttons before nestling itself inside his trousers. His breath hitched at the feeling of your cold hand on his shaft. You stroked him gently, slowly — hesitantly, he might even say. But he didn’t mind as this was one of the only pleasures in the Tail section of the damned train and he was lucky enough to have someone to share it with him.

You were stoic. It was an odd moment when he released into your hand and all you did was wipe your hand on his coat and turned your back on him. 

Maybe it was a test, he thought. Maybe it was punishment for what he had implied earlier. You were more than a means for satisfaction for him. He truly loved you but his desperation for freedom was greater than that. 

He covered himself up and turned to his side, wrapping his arm around you. “I just want life to be better for us.” 

“I know.” He heard you sniffle, prompting him to tighten his grip. “I was pregnant.”

His heart stopped. You felt his body shudder against yours.

“I think I lost it a few days ago. That day that I was in so much pain, when I decided to stay with Tanya,” you continued, keeping your voice low to mask the hoarseness in it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What difference would it make?”

The question felt like an affront. It was a callout to his absence in favour of the cause he fought for so diligently. 

“You wouldn’t have gone through that without me.”

“Yes, I would. You left me alone when I told you I was in pain.”

It hit him like a punch to the jaw. 

“You got Tanya to walk me to her bed and left me there with her.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say. You felt smaller in his arms, your figure felt unfamiliar in a way, though nothing had physically changed.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Because it wouldn’t have made a difference, Curtis,” you sighed. “Nothing is more important to you than this ridiculous plan Gilliam put you up to. Not even your own life, imagine mine… or even theirs.”

But that was a shot to the heart.

He didn’t want children. He had always known that, but he knew the risks that came with sleeping with you, and he was enough of a man to step up to his responsibilities. Even if you seemed to not believe so.

“Why tell me now then?”

“I thought if you were going to die, I might as well tell you everything I think you should know.”

The coldness in her tone was worse than the stinging wind outside. It sent chills down his spine, but failed to get through to him.

“I’m doing this for all of us.”

“No, you’re not,” you spat. The disgust in your voice was evident. "You're doing this for you and your guilt.”

He didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw, feeling a pressure in his head and a sting in his eyes.

“Dying for him won’t redeem you,” you said calmly. “You all but raised him. You cared for him when his mother couldn’t. You had no choice and he would understand that. It would hurt but I know he would find it in him to understand.”

“Stop talking,” he said tightly. His arm lay slack around you. It wasn’t removed purely because his coat was an extra source of warmth for you.

“You didn’t have a choice, Curtis.”

“Yes, I did. I could’ve done what the rest did and cut off my arm to give it to them.”

You turned around in his arms, looking up at him. “You could’ve, I guess.”

His gaze remained firm on the wall behind you, vacant, yet somber. 

“I love you, Curtis. But I can’t love you for the both of us.”

“I love you too,” he responded absentmindedly, still looking at the wall.

You pecked his lips softly, wondering if you had gone too far. You knew that your words would do nothing to deter him. His mind was made up and you’d soon live like a widow, but you needed to get those words off your chest. You didn’t know if you could bear to live with them stuck there.

“I love you,” he said, more lucidly this time. “I would’ve loved our baby too.”

“I know you would.” It just wouldn’t make him stay.

[usermovies]

FRANKENSTEIN

2025, dir. Guillermo del Toro

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Character: Bucky Barnes

Rating: sfw

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: death, grief, angst

Song: 7 years - Lukas Graham

masterlist

The table was quiet. Only the clinking of utensils against plates could be heard. The atmosphere was thick enough to slice with a knife. Nervous glances were shared all around, ultimately landing on the elephant in the room, the broad brown haired white man that sat across from your father, eating in peace as though not made privy to the discomfort his mere presence brought upon the members of that household.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes Jr. hardly ever let himself feel uncomfortable. He was very secure in himself and it was one of the reasons you loved him. You had been sneaking around for months when Bucky decided that you deserved more than that, and though it wasn’t legal for you to get married, he figured meeting your family would at least demonstrate his honourable intentions.

Your father was a big man, and very intimidating. Unfortunately, he was also the father of  four beautiful young women who turned heads no matter where they went. They all had good heads on their shoulders but the world is hardly ever kind to beautiful women, so he spent a lot of time fending off troublesome boys and men.

“The stew was delicious, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Bucky complimented politely as he finished  the meal, cleaning off his plate. Your mother smiled at the compliment, offering seconds while your father just glared at the man who seemed completely unfazed.

“Daddy, Bucky is in the military. He’s a Sergeant,” you said in a pathetic attempt to ease the tension. The smile you held was shaky, doing a terrible job at hiding your fear. 

“Is that so, Bucky?” your father spat. You gripped your utensils, unable to eat beyond some nibbles here and there.

“Yes, sir. Due to leave for Europe in a couple of weeks,” he responded proudly, his hand reaching for yours and squeezing softly. You looked at him and smiled, feeling the knots in your stomach untwist.

Your sisters hid their smiles, watching giddily at the little gestures of affection. They were all older than you, but only the eldest two had brought their beaus, who were quickly approved by your father, but then again, they weren’t white men.

“Europe, huh? That’s a long way from here,” your father said, leaning back, “and it’s probably goin’ to be a long time before you come back.” Your mother eyed him suspiciously as your eldest sister, Eliza, braced herself beside him. She was the force of the house that scared even your father, so no doubt that if something unsavory left his mouth, she’d check him on the spot.

“Yes, sir, it is. But anything to serve our great nation.”

“Great to you, I think you mean,” he responded gravely. Your heart sunk to your stomach at his words, but Bucky seemed completely unshaken by the turn the conversation was taking.

“There’s a lot about this country that could be better, sir, I won’t deny that. But still, it’s our country and our home, and I believe we should defend it.” The pride in his tone and the security of his words made your heart flutter. From across you, your second eldest, Marie, watched you stare at the handsome soldier with stars gleaming in your eyes. She nudged the sister beside her, Libby, and they both giggled.

“Spoken like a true soldier Mr. Barnes,” Eliza said, beaming, “I’m sure you’re going to do great keeping us safe.”

“We’re barely safe with him in here,” your father hissed under his breath. Heads snapped towards him.

“Daddy!”

“Robert, stop it!” 

Your sisters and mother scolded. Your face burned as you apologised to Bucky for his comment.

“No,” Bucky said, “You’re right, sir. Coming here is more of a risk to you than it is to me and I understand your frustration. I just wanted to show Y/N and all of you that I’m serious about her. Even with how things are.”

His devotion to you showed but your father was a practical, objective man. He would much rather his girls marry out of security and convenience, than something as idle as love. It was something that came after and grew with time.

“What difference does it make? You’ll never be able to get married or live together,” he retorted, unmoved by Bucky’s words. Your eyes stung, welling up with tears as Bucky’s jaw clenched, clearly in restraint. His hand held yours tightly, but not tight enough to hurt you.

“We will. I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“You’re going to Europe!” your father burst out, “what if you die? Or better yet, find a nice blonde girl to live your life with,”

Your father’s words were meant for Bucky but they sliced through you instead. You rose abruptly from your seat, unable to keep listening to your father berate Bucky and minimise your love.

You plopped face down onto your bed, letting your tears soak the pillow you stuffed your face in. It was pathetic that you had let your wishful thinking bring him into your home. The voices in the dining room were loud and you were desperate to shut them out.

A hand gently landed on your upper back and rubbed it slowly. It was small and light — Marie’s. She lay down beside you, letting you cry as you both laid in the silence filled by the yelling voices of your sisters and father. 

“Did Bucky leave?” you croaked out.

“No,” Marie responded softly, “he wanted to follow after you but Daddy stopped him. Then Eliza and Mama got in the middle; and now they’re yelling and Bucky is waiting by the door.”

“What?” you lifted your head to look at her. “Which door?”

“This door,” she snorted.

You gasped looking back at the ajar door. Rushing off the bed, you yanked it open to find Bucky sitting in the hallway, next to the door.

“You’re still here?” You stared at him in shock.

“Of course, babydoll,” he breathed out, rising to his feet. 

“I thought my dad scared you off,” you said with your lip quivering, beginning to cry again.

“It would take a lot more than that to scare me off,” he joked. You laughed through your tears. 

“Well you might as well come in,” you motioned towards your bedroom shrugging, “he’s already angry.” 

“I’d rather not make things worse for you before I leave you here alone with them,” he responded leaning back onto the wall behind him. You weren’t sure why his calm demeanor bothered you, but it did.

You pouted, wiped your tears and fell onto his chest. Your arms wrapped around him, and you felt him do the same around you. 

“I’m so sorry babydoll,” he whispered against your head. 

“Don’t be.” 

“I meant it though,” he whispered. “I’ll come back, we’ll get married and get a nice apartment. We’ll have our little family and everything that comes with it.”

You looked up at him, and as he looked down at you, he noticed the gloom in your expression.

“I swear it,” he said. Those words were the sealant of all his promises to you. 

The last time you kissed was at an alleyway next to the movie house. You could taste your salty tears as you desperately savored the feeling of his lips against yours. 

“Come back to me okay?” you cried, “Even if you’re in pieces.”

“I will. I promise.”

You cried for days after, missing him more than you could express. Your father’s heart broke at the sight of your misery, and being the good father he always tried to be, he comforted you in the way you needed, regardless of whether he agreed with the reason for which you cried. You were his youngest child after all. The last one to leave the safety of his arms and go into the world that he couldn’t protect you from.

Days, weeks, months, years passed and Bucky didn’t return. You remembered clearly the pain in your chest after you were told of his death. It was as though your heart had been stabbed and your lungs had collapsed. Breathing was hard on most days for the first few months. You rotted in bed, and it was often one of your sisters or your mother, bathing and feeding you. 

“I knew this would happen,” you had heard your father say once. He didn’t know you were nearby to hear but those words made you shut yourself away in grief and shame for another week.

It was Libby who pushed you out of the pit you were in. And she had done so very unkindly. It caused quite the commotion with hairs pulled, cups thrown, faces scratched, but you were forced out. Life had to go on whether you liked it or not, but there wasn’t a day where you did mourn Bucky and curse him for filling your head with otherworldly desires. 

You met a man decent enough to marry. A pilot in the army. “You sure have a type,” your father joked the first night you had brought him over. A stellar, intelligent and decorated young man that happened to look like him, so your father’s approval came immediately. 

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, you’d lay away thinking of the young Bucky Barnes who you had once dreamed of living this life with. Guilt would eat you up and the next morning a feast for breakfast awaited him when he woke.

Love came after, as your father had said. After the first child you gave birth to, that is. It grew with the second and third. It grew with the house he bought for your family, with the meals you shared every night. With the sound of his voice reading to your children, and the sound of their laughter ringing in the air as he chased after them. Love lived on even when it was just the two of you at home. It lived on until he drew his last breath and left you to let the love live through you, your children and your grandchildren. 

It was a surreal day when Steve Rogers visited you. He looked at the frail old woman younger than him and mourned the time he had lost in the ice. You sat with some tea and lemon cake, chatting and reminiscing about the good ol’ times with Bucky. The man was lost in time and those hours with you grounded him a bit. His company was a bitter reminder of your greatest loss, but you welcomed the sweetness of the memories he brought with him.

Time had finally caught up with you. You spent your time in the hospital bed as your body slowly shut down. You thought you had officially gone senile when the dashing figure of Buchanan Barnes appeared before you. Your breath halted, not even the tubing in your nose helped ease it.

“Bucky?” you called. Steve had brought Bucky to see you. He had heard you were sick and though his friend had been in hiding, he figured he’d at least want to say goodbye to you.

Bucky was nervous to see you, but even in your frail state, his heart lurched. It was the stars in your eyes. He was glad to see you still had them. With a gentle nudge from Steve, Bucky hesitantly walked towards you. You weakly raised your hand to him, and he let out a sigh of relief. He took it into his, and stood beside you.

“You look as handsome as the day we met,” you said as your vision blurred. “I figure you and Steve don’t have anymore of that serum that got you looking so young, do you?”

Bucky laughed. It had been the first time he had done so in years. His thumb caressed your hand as he looked down at the wrinkles that littered them.

“I…” He began but his voice cracked, “I’m sorry…” he could barely get the words out before breaking down into tears. Who would’ve thought the Winter Soldier himself would be reduced to such a figure over a woman?

“It’s alright,” you smiled. The signs of a lived life marred your face, and it only twisted the knife in Bucky’s heart that it was a life lived without him. “And you came back in one piece and handsome, what more could I want?” you joked with the humour signature of the elderly woman you were. Nothing like the childlike humour he had left you with. You were a mother and a grandmother now.

“Barely one piece,” he scoffed, showing you his metal arm.

“Well, if I were younger, I would’ve taken that arm for a ride.”

Another laugh left Bucky’s lips. It was a foreign sound to him, a forgotten feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like Bucky, a guy from New York, chill, calm and collected, without a care in the world.

“Still naughty, I see,” he grinned.

“Always.”

He took the seat beside your bed and conversation flowed with the ease of a river. You told him all about the blessings upon your life, and to your heartache, he confided in you about the sins that cursed his. The hours passed like minutes, and your hands were joined through every second. You both felt the peace your absence prevented you from feeling. The pressure in your chest that seemed to never disappear finally eased.

Bucky watched your burial from afar. When everyone had dispersed from the cemetery, he went to your fresh grave and left a kiss on the cool headstone.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he whispered.

There was now only one person alive in this world who knew him as Bucky. But there was now no one who could make him feel like Bucky.

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Character: Fire Lord Zuko

Rating: nsfw

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: sexual description, power imbalance, pining

Song: Nothing's gonna hurt you baby - Cigarettes After Sex

masterlist

Her fingers skillfully kneaded the knots in Zuko’s shoulders. The slickness of the lavender-scented oil helped her glide over each one, releasing the tension and making him grunt in relief. The room was dimly lit with a few candles being the only source of light in the large bedchamber. The aroma of the incense she had lit seemed like a sort of aphrodisiac — he was sure of it — as he always felt arousal build up during the massages.

 He often felt like he was abusing his position as the Fire Lord, corrupting such a defenseless, meek woman, but when the time came, all those thoughts vanished as she showed him how fierce she could be.

In the middle of the council meeting that morning, he kept sneaking glances at her as she stood behind the generals with a pitcher of water, ready to serve when beckoned. His thoughts had wandered off to what she would do for him later that night, and what he’d give her in return.

Her gentle fingers made their way down his back, pressing firmly against his sore muscles. Zuko sat at the edge of his bed with Y/N kneeling behind him. She wore a robe that reached just below her crotch, while he was completely bare.

The lower she reached, the more impatient Zuko grew. He needed her hands on his growing shaft, stroking it with the firmness she used on his back.

Her quiet, delicate breath was warm against his spine. His head fell forward in a low groan when she hit a particularly sore spot near his lower back. 

His impatience finally got the better of him and he slowly reached behind him for one of her hands. She stopped when he took her wrist in his large hand, guided it forward, and placed it on his now hardened shaft. 

Ever the dutiful servant, her fingers wrapped around its length with no hesitation. It was slick from the oil, helping her stroke with ease. With a deep breath in, Zuko’s eyes squeezed shut. The sounds he made were hardly worthy of the Lord of the Fire Nation – meek, pathetic whines that only Y/N’s ears were allowed to hear.

He felt her lips press softly against his shoulder as she picked up her pace. His already loosened body shivered as the euphoric feeling of his climax fogged his mind. Her strokes slowed, working every last bit of his seed out of him. As the haze of pleasure faded, Y/N had already moved from behind him, giving him the space to lie down  comfortably and close his eyes.

She moved in relative silence, careful not to make too much noise as he seemed to rest. His chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm. His nudity was no longer something she blushed at, though his intense eyes were. She often averted her eyes when in front of him, only letting them rake over his muscular body when he wasn’t aware. But Zuko knew. He felt her observing him. He was far too perceptive to miss it and he quite enjoyed the attention she gave him.

“Pour some tea for us and join me,” he commanded. She yelped, having been caught by surprise as she thought he’d been asleep.

“Yes, my lord,” she responded, following his order. She arranged two teacups and a teapot filled with the hot water and tea leaves on a small tray before walking to the bed where Zuko sat with his back against the headboard with a satin sheet over his lower body. He watched her  intently as she shyly moved towards him. He smirked at the sight of her eyes glued to the ground, unaware of the goosebumps that littered her skin. 

The silence in the room was palpable, with the sound of tea streaming into the cups filling the gap it left. Her movement was always so graceful, even when performing unsavoury tasks. She handed him one of the cups before taking the other in her hand. She waited until Zuko took a sip before following suit. They drank their tea, Y/N’s gaze still firmly averted while Zuko’s remained on her.

The air was heavy, yet there was a hint of ease to it. He remembered how months ago she used to sit with the teacup close to her chest, never sipping it as it cooled. They had come a long way, but apparently not long enough.

Zuko finished his tea before Y/N did. He set the empty cup on the tray between them and stopped her as she went to do the same. “Finish it…” he urged. The Fire Lord’s word was law, obeyed by all his servants, even if he hadn’t said them as the Fire Lord.

He let a finger inch closer to her, tracing her bare thigh. It suggested nothing more than a moment of comfort amidst the hectic life he led. Her skin was so soft that he would sometimes aimlessly caress it.

Zuko’s ears itched to hear her voice as often as he could, but he didn’t know how to encourage her to speak. Barely any words were ever exchanged between them. What could they possibly say? He didn’t want to bore her with talks of his duties and he didn’t want to probe her with questions about her day. The stillness wasn’t something they were itching to run away from, so they didn’t. He enjoyed that shade of intimacy, but he still yearned for a deeper one. Her place in his bedroom wasn’t just for bodily relief anymore, and he wondered if she knew that. 

“Sleep here tonight,” he said as she placed her empty teacup on the tray.

“Yes, my Lord,” she responded, gathering the tray and its contents and taking them away.  

The words “my Lord” were sobering in a way. Not that he’d ever been able to forget the barrier between them, but he didn’t like being confronted by it either.

Y/N returned to the bed, getting in under the sheets with him. She never knew what to expect. Sometimes it was truly just sleep, and sometimes it was more. She didn’t complain though, he was kind and gentle. He was attentive too for a man of his stature. His bed was more comfortable, his room was more spacious and they were given luxuries that she could only dream of having in the servants’ quarters. 

“Good night Y/N,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

“Good night my —”

“Zuko,” he interrupted, “call me Zuko in here from now on.”

“Good night…” she hesitated “Zuko.”

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Ballad of Songbird and Snakes

Character: Coriolanus Snow

Rating: nsfw

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of sexual activities (dub-con), mentions of death and grieving, implication of depression

Song: Young and beautiful - Lana Del Rey

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Sejanus’s presence was something you sorely missed. He was your comfort, your protector, your anchor. His parents had adopted you, but you owed him far more than you could repay.

Your hands clenched your bouquet tightly to stop them from shaking. Air barely reached your lungs as your breath grew unsteady and your chest pounded concerningly fast. You stared at the closed door of the chapel through your veil. Your mother slipped inside as your father took his place beside you.

It was time. 

“You look beautiful,” your father smiled tearfully, pressing a kiss on your temple. You forced out a shaky smile, still painfully focused on the nerves overtaking you.

“Thank you,” you responded. Your frilly white dress was a custom, highly fashionable piece. Very Capitol.

The sound of the piano playing “Bridal Chorus" rang through the chapel and you held your father’s arm for support. His other hand rested over the fingers tightly gripping him. 

The doors swung open, revealing a long aisle. Dozens of faces looked at you from either side of it and the man you were to take as a husband waiting at the end. Your feet felt stuck, and if it weren't your father guiding you, you’d have likely stood there like a statue. Important people looked back at you, big names whose presence marked just how relevant you and your family were in influential circles. Your eyes flickered from face to face, unfeeling. 

You finally landed on Coriolanus. He looked dashing. He was a well-groomed man with refined taste, but he went beyond for your wedding day. He smiled brightly at you. You smiled back, though he wouldn’t be able to see it through your veil. Still the twisting feeling at the pit of your stomach didn’t ease as you focused on him. 

He’s Sejanus’ best friend. That statement echoed in your mind from time to time. It returned particularly when a wave of unease crawled down your spine as he smiled at you, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, squeezing gently, when his knee nudged yours beneath the table. Small affectionate moments like this that unnerved you when it wasn’t supposed to.

The vows were something out of a poetry book. He had a way with words.

“As long as my heart beats, it will beat for you.”

The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly, lavishly. 

“Your wishes will be my command, and your happiness, my duty.”

It felt like a performance. Rehearsed to perfection. 

“As long as I love you, I’ll work to give you the world.”

As long as he loved you…

Corio raised your veil and flipped it over your head. His perfectly styled hair and clean shaven face looked better up close. 

His lips felt soft against yours. The firm peck suggested the passion newlyweds would feel after tying the knot. You felt emptier, rather than full of the anxiety that plagued you. 

The cheers kept you in the room when you wanted to disappear into the kiss for the comfort you needed. You had wanted a more intimate affair but your parents and Corio convinced you to partake in the signature Capitol extravagance.

Your first dance as a married couple was stunning. You had always been light on your feet — you were known for it — but Corio was swift, leading with a grace that wasn’t uncharacteristic. His gaze was fixed on you, firmly enough to make you blush underneath its intensity. He looked more in his element than you felt. The white roses that adorned the salon complemented him well, giving him an air of regality you felt you lacked.

The reception was mostly handshakes and polite smiles. Talks of politics, academics and the future of Panem were shared all throughout the night, much to your dismay. Your discomfort had settled but you were left with your mother and the women of the Capitol to mingle and giggle, as your father and Corio took the opportunity to deepen their connections. You’d sneak glances at him from across the hall. Every now and again, he’d meet your eye and smile. 

You hadn’t pegged him for a man who followed silly wedding traditions. You squealed as he hooked an arm under your knees, the other on your back and lifted you up before walking into your home. 

A two-story house offered to you by your parents, ready to be filled with love and life. 

He kissed you, both of you smiling happily as he carried you up the stairs to your marital bedroom. 

 “You’re lighter than I expected,” he teased, prompting you to smack  his chest.

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to comment on a lady’s weight?”  you asked, feigning a strict tone. 

He rested you on the queen-sized bed, leaning down and pecking your nose.

“I do.”

His lips pressed against yours in a fiery kiss as he gently urged you back onto the bed, resting between your legs.

Sex wasn’t really something you found enjoyable. You had only ever been with Corio, and he seemed to enjoy it, so you didn’t mind much. As his wife, you knew your duties.

His hips moved quite firmly against yours, bordering on rough. His breath was warm against your ear. The occasional groan and grunt escaped his lips, and the occasional whine escaped yours. 

You mostly tried to dissociate but you hadn’t mastered it yet. You had a lifetime to get used to it though. It was the least you could do after all that he’d done for you after your brother’s death. You didn't think you would’ve survived if it weren’t him being there for you in your darkest time.

“I love you,” he muttered, after he finished. The first couple of times it seemed to bother him that you never did, but as he soon insisted it was simply something with you rather than his inability on his part.

“I love you too,” you responded snuggling into his chest. 

In the silence of the night in the dark of your room, you couldn’t help but replay the day in your mind. The missing piece stuck out like a sore thumb to you and you wondered if that was why it didn’t feel as magical as you dreamed. 

“Tell me again…about Sejanus in District 12,” you asked softly. 

Corio had returned with the news of your brother's death and the nobility of his actions as a soldier in District 12. As his closest friend, Corio took it upon himself to carry and share Sejanus’ memory.

Your heart ached every time he retold the stories, but they comforted you all the same. Corio was understanding of this, never making you feel like a nuisance for asking and never losing his patience when retelling.

The reason for his death didn’t shock you. Sejanus had always been vocal against the current status quo, so it didn’t seem out of character for him to get involved with rebels and ultimately die for it. He always had been a bit too sheltered and idealistic. You didn’t particularly agree with the government but you knew better than to risk your neck from where you stood.

“He was a good man,” Corio would say. “Too good for this world.”

The Plinth family had taken Corio in. His presence was a sort of surrogate for the eldest Plinth heir who had died such a disgraceful death. Coriolanus Snow did the family reputation justice, unlike Sejanus. Your father mourned, of course, but the pride in his eyes when he looked at Corio was hardly ever there when he looked at his own son. 

The marriage was more of a formality, a legality. Three months after his return, he had proposed after asking your father for your hand. Three months after that you lay in bed with your husband and a gold band on your finger.

The feeling of numbness was the most you could muster on most days. It was better than grief and pain that rattled your bones and squeezed your heart, or the little moments of unease that befell you from time to time. Corio was more than the obvious choice for you, as you had accepted.

You looked up at him, and it seemed that he felt your eyes on him because he looked down to meet them. The side of his lip turned upward in a crooked smile, though his eyes were vacant. The tiredness of the active day seemed to have caught up to him.

You pecked his chin before snuggling up under it. The warmth of his body was welcoming, a contrast to the eyes you just looked into. 

Sometimes you wondered if a part of him had stayed in District 12. If that part was with Sejanus.

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Character: Reiner Braun

Rating: nsfw

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual description, implication of suicidal tendencies, mentions of war, mentions of death, implication of PTSD, angst, mentions of racial discrimination

Song: Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens

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Reiner and Y/N were connected by more than just their love for each other. Their experiences, their struggles, and their thirst for justice bound them together.

As Reiner thrust into her, his mind was anywhere but with her. Her soft moans in his ear and her nails clawing at his back did nothing to ground him in reality. Her legs were tightly wrapped around his hips, her face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to muffle the noise she was making.

When she came, he didn’t bother pursuing his own release. He rolled off of her, panting as he ignored his erection. Y/N took note of it, reaching for his shaft and gently stroking it. It happened occasionally and Reiner did nothing to stop her, letting her stroke him until he ejaculated into her hand with a low grunt.

He put his arm over his eyes as he felt the bed shift when Y/N got off it. It wasn’t long before she returned and lay down with her back to him. It was a cold, yet routine end to their tryst. Reiner turned his body to wrap an arm around her frame. In response, she interlaced their fingers and held their joined hands close to her chest.

Even when his mind wasn’t fully present in the moment, this was the only time Reiner wasn’t overpowered by the overwhelming guilt and the desire to disappear altogether. Every step he had taken since returning from Paradis had been solely for Y/N, and she didn’t even know it.

Reiner was all Y/N had in the world and it would be selfish of him to leave her alone, especially since she had waited for him throughout the years he was away.

They were children when he left. Merely twelve years old when they promised themselves to each other. Their first kiss sealed their vows the night before he had to leave. Neither of them forgot about it in his years away. 

Y/N had to adapt to Reiner when he returned. He was no longer the tender boy eager to become a Warrior to give her and his family a better life. He was a battle-hardened man with deep scars that littered his body, mind, and soul. 

Yet his love for her remained untouched. When his eyes landed on the young woman for the first time in years, his heart lurched. He didn’t care about anything but her.

The first time they made love, Reiner was surprised to find that she was still a virgin. She had waited for him to be the first to touch her. It was the best night of his life. The one night he felt euphoria, love, and freedom. It was everything he had never thought he’d be able to experience in his short life.

In the time Reiner was away, his wife had lost her father and brother to war efforts. They were often shunned for their darker skin, just as Reiner was for his lineage. They found each other amid the hate directed at them from a young age and comforted each other through it.

Y/N was a brilliant young woman who was recruited to train as a doctor in the Marleyan Army. Her father and brother were conscripted as soldiers. They lived in a sort of limbo, rejected by both Marleyans and Eldians. All they had was each other until her father was killed in a battle, and months later her brother followed. All she could do was wait and pray that Reiner returned to her. They got married a month after reuniting, mainly out of desperation because of the little time he had left. 

The scent of bread and coffee woke Reiner. It was unsurprising to find that she was no longer in bed with him. He slowly rose from the bed and got ready for the day. 

He woke up already tired. The exhaustion was so deeply ingrained in him that he doubted sleep would be the remedy. He dragged his body down to the kitchen where Y/N sat with none other than Zeke.

“Ah, Reiner! You’re up,” Zeke announced. Y/N walked up to him, taking his face into her hands and kissing him.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile. He nudged his nose against hers as a response.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asked gruffly. His tone was only ever low and gruff to most people.

“We’re having a briefing soon regarding—” Zeke stopped himself just as he was going to spill confidential warfare information. He looked at Y/N who seemed to understand.

“I prepared some toast and coffee for you,” she said softly. “Eat before you go.”

The men ate in silence. When offered some, she politely declined. She couldn’t stomach a meal. It churned and tightened in anticipation for Reiner’s departure for another mission for a war that he claimed only started because of his and Zeke’s failure on Paradis. 

She knew a bit about what went on considering she also worked in the army but there was quite a bit she was left in the dark about. Her eyes studied Reiner’s demeanor in hopes of catching some hint that could tell her how to feel or what to expect, but he was unreadable. His undercover mission did many things to him, and hiding his feelings was one of the many skills he acquired.

It was only in his sleep that she was able to see the damage done to him. She saw it in the nightmares that haunted him and the visions that kept him up as she struggled to stay awake with him.

“I heard that Gabi is going as well,” Y/N spoke up, feeling the silence slowly suffocating her. Her brows were scrunched up, ready to wrinkle up her forehead.

“Yes, she’s a Warrior candidate after all,” Zeke responded. However, her eyes stayed on Reiner as she tried to gauge a reaction from him.

“How long will you be away this time around?” 

“We don’t know,” Reiner muttered. Her throat seemed to close up as tears welled up in her eyes. 

He looked at the hands resting in her lap. She fidgeted with her fingers, occasionally pinching herself. Knowing her, she’d pinch herself bloody in no time. 

“We’ll be back in no time,” Reiner comforted, taking her hand in his and caressing it. 

Y/N nodded before taking a deep breath and turning away to wipe her tears before they fell.

“More coffee, Zeke?” she offered, rising from her seat to refill his cup without waiting for a response.

The stillness of the room was heavier than before she had decided to speak up to smother it.

“I’m afraid we must get going now,” Zeke said as they finished their meal. The way Y/N's face fell made his chest tighten. 

The heartache Reiner put her through filled him with guilt. She was doomed to await his death with a ticking clock to become a widow with a slightly better life than the average Eldian. Another reason for their quick marriage was the spousal benefits she'd receive after he passed on his Titan to a successor.  

Every battle he fought stiffened her muscles and stilled her breath. She always lost a few kilograms while he was away, unable to stomach even a loaf of bread without throwing it back up.

No amount of words, promises, and caresses would change the fact that their time together was essentially a finite sentence to be served under duress. The only thing they had was the love they felt for each other, even after years apart. And even that wasn’t enough to soothe the lingering ache.  She deserved a man who wasn’t dying.

Y/N walked the men to the door. She wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to them at the train station due to her duties, so the door of their home would have to do.

“Thank you for breakfast, Y/N,” Zeke said, making his way out, waiting outside for Reiner.

When they were left alone, she jumped into his arms, desperately kissing him. They didn't know how long they'd be apart, and that kiss would have to hold them over until he came back.

“I love you,” Reiner breathed, holding her tightly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

The phrase “as soon as I can” was painfully ambiguous, but she accepted it.

“I love you too,” she croaked, letting her tears fall. 

They kissed for a bit longer, her salty tears mingling between them. 

“I have to go now,” he said stiffly. His hands still held onto her tightly. A second passed before he hesitantly released her.

He wiped the tears from her cheek and pressed a firm kiss on her forehead. 

Y/N watched helplessly as the men walked their regular path, only this time, she wasn’t sure when she’d see him come down it towards her again.

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Dune

Character: Duncan Idaho

Rating: nsfw

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: slight power imbalance, sexual descriptions; mentions of arranged marriage

Song: The night we met - Lord Huron

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Leto Atreides wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He was a very intelligent and vigilant man. Not much went past him. You, on the other hand, were overly confident in your ability to evade him. You were always praised for it, and it inflated your ego as a ward of the Duke.

The night stilled the halls. You were on your knees in front of Duncan with his shaft in your  mouth, bobbing your head enthusiastically. Your hand worked what you couldn’t fit in as your tongue flattened against his veiny length. His hands gripped your hair, guiding your pace. 

Your eyes were fixed on his, watching the hunger in his gaze. You craved him in ways a lady of your stature wasn’t supposed to. The wetness between your legs was about to roll down them.

You took him further in your mouth, attempting to take him further into your throat, but your gag reflex stopped you. 

“Calm down, starling,” Duncan said in a teasing tone. You ignored him, trying again. 

He withdrew out of your mouth and pulled you up to your feet. A string of saliva hung from your swollen lips which he wiped off with his thumb. You were a bit of an overachiever.

“Don’t force it if you can’t take it.” His smirk irked and aroused you.

“I can take it. You just stopped me,” you retorted, almost defiantly. As though his claim was an affront to your abilities.

“Sure you can, starling,” he responded with a hint of sarcasm before pecking your lips.

He turned you over and bent you over your desk, firmly kneading your soft ass cheek before smacking it. He knelt down behind you, diving into your core and feverishly indulging in your sweet taste. Your head fell forward onto the desk as you grew lightheaded, your hands gripping the edges of it. 

The familiar heat flared between you and Duncan. You regretted that you had to hide and sneak around. It felt diminishing to what you saw as your love. 

Nights were liberating, as all your inhibitions could be released. The hours dragged until you were both bare and tangled together in bed, chasing the intoxicating highs you never tired of.

Days were filled with tension you were desperate to rid yourself of. The nights before did little to quench the perpetual thirst you both felt. The discreet glances and hidden touches made it worse, but the excitement of your forbidden tryst only fueled the desire.

“When are you planning to talk to Leto about the marriage?” you asked Duncan for what he swore to be the hundredth time. You were from a lower house and the third daughter among six children. Who you married was of minor consequence and you wanted to take full advantage of it.

He found you in the greenhouse after a meeting with Leto and his council. You spent most of your free time there, and it’s where the two of you were able to meet discreetly.

He glanced at you nervously. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you braced yourself for yet another excuse. 

“I’m being sent ahead to Arrakis. To check on things before the rest of the House arrives,” he confessed. 

You gave him a look of indignation.

You took a deep breath as your frustration grew and your eyes stung.

“Hey,” he called out, pulling you closer to him by the waist. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I’m able to. I promise.”

“Will you, though?” you countered, looking up at him with your bloodshot eyes. “Because it seems like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

He flinched as though struck. 

“Don’t ever say that,” he said firmly, “Leto has a thousand concerns right now. Arrakis. The Emperor. The Harkonnens. I won't burden him with this until the timing is right.”

You leaned your forehead on his chest, sighing heavily as you felt his lips press against the top of your head. 

“Please do it quickly before Jessica gets into his ear about marrying me off to some obscure house,” you said softly. 

Just her name sent shivers down your back. You couldn’t exactly prove it due to her mostly apathetic demeanor but you were fairly sure she didn’t like you.

Leto treated you as his own. You and Paul were raised together, and anything afforded to him was afforded to you as well. You wanted to go to the Bene Gesserit school but he refused, so Jessica taught you what you knew. She did so mostly begrudgingly, and it often seemed to you that she watched your progress with a scrutiny she never directed at Paul. You prayed for the day you were no longer under her piercing gaze.

“I will,” he said comfortingly, “we’ll get married, have our own home, and everything else you want.”

You looked up at him, “Will you come to my room tonight?”

“Of course, starling, whatever you want.” He couldn’t deny you anything when you stared at him with your wide eyes.

Dinner was always a stiff affair. Only Paul and his father seemed to enjoy the little time you had together, while you felt the scrutinizing eyes burning into you, all but yelling “Imposter”. The image of a family would be complete when you left, and you hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

“Y/N,” Leto called. Your eyes shot up at him, your mind had wandered away in the midst of the conversation.

“Forgive me, I was distracted.” You couldn’t care less about whatever it was Leto and Paul were talking about. You counted the minutes until you could leave, and hopefully see Duncan again.

“I was just talking to Paul about his studies, and wanted to see how yours are going,” he explained.

You let out a polite lady smile, “they’re going well. I’ve started learning about Arrakis.”

“Ah, good!” he said proudly, “We’ll be sending an envoy ahead of us.” So you’d heard. But your face didn’t betray the fact that you had already known that.

“I also wanted to talk to you and Paul about something else,” he said before clearing his throat. There was a shift in Jessica’s demeanor. She tensed a bit before putting on her mask of nonchalance once more.

You didn’t miss the glance she and Leto shared before he spoke. “You are of age now, and you’ve been part of our family for some time now…”

No. 

Your stomach dropped.

“With our move to Arrakis, alliances must be strengthened.” Jessica remained silent as Paul shifted uncomfortably beside you. "Several houses have already expressed interest in pursuing a match."

The room seemed to tilt beneath you. "Father —" Paul began. Leto raised a hand, stopping him.

"Nothing has been finalized. But discussions will begin soon."

Duncan's promise echoed in your mind. I'll talk to him as soon as I'm able to.

“Wouldn’t it be better for Paul to pursue a stronger match?” You asked hastily. There was a strain in your tone, as if you were trying to keep the desperation you felt from seeping onto your words.

“Your House is strong enough and we’ve maintained close diplomatic relations for years,’ he explained. 

You couldn't argue against that. You had always known that it was a possibility, but your wishful thinking had allowed you to forget.

“What if I refuse?”

The question turned every head at the table, thickening the tension in the air.

Jessica’s glare practically burned through you, while Paul and Leto stared in stunned silence.

There was an air of defiance that they hadn’t known you possessed. 

“Is there a reason you’d want to refuse?” Leto asked tensely. Your eyes were glued to your plate. “You’re an intelligent woman. You must’ve known that it would eventually be discussed.”

“Yes, but…” you sighed, “I—” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

“We’ll keep your wishes in mind when we discuss the arrangement.”

That told you all you needed to know. 

At night, the moonlight shone into your cold bedroom. On your knees in front of Duncan, with tears streaming down your face as he refused to look at you. 

Your cries and pleas fell on deaf ears. What you had loved more about him became what you hated most in that moment. His unwavering loyalty and sense of duty. 

“Run away with me” you had said. The hopeful smile on your face fell at the darkening of his eyes upon hearing such a blasphemous suggestion. 

You believed yourself to be sharper than you truly were, Duncan noted. The sneaking around made you believe that. “Leto would never find us," you had said. 

You were calculated, deviously so. But Duncan Idaho was a devoted man. A man who valued loyalty above all else. He resented you for not adding that to your equations, he resented you for putting him in this position.

To betray his master or his lover.

“You’ll be alright without him," he thought as his chest tightened. “Paul is a good man. Better than most,” he tried to convince himself.

Your wretched sobs twisted a knife your words had driven deep into his gut. 

Neither of you were born high enough to choose your own paths, but you weren’t low enough to not have it chosen for you either. You both owned nothing, barely even your own bodies. 

You begged, still, for the chance at freedom. To live your lives as your own, and build something out of the love you had for each other out in the distant stars.

To betray his master or his lover… those words rang in his head as he left your room with his tunic wet with your tears.

[thisonegirl]

Fandom: Windbreaker

Character: Hajime Umemiya

Rating: sfw

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of suicidal tendancies, mentions of blood

Song: Work song - Hozier

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Umemiya wasn’t scared of much. You, however, scared the living shit out of him. He undoubtedly and wholeheartedly loved you, but you still scared him.

You were a whole head and a half shorter than him, your eyesight was horrid and you could barely throw a punch to save your life. You looked defenseless and harmless, but what you lacked in height, you made up in fury. You were a hothead with a tongue as sharp as a knife.

Ume was a fighter that used his fists, you were a fighter that used her words. 

“Explain yourself.” Your tone sent shivers up his back. You glared at him fiercely, completely ignoring the people around. 

The atmosphere turned cold in your presence. Hiragi and Kotoha gulped, trying to make themselves smaller, while the rest watched wide-eyed as their leader seemed to tremble in his boots.

“We had some issues with the Shishitoren,” he scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously.

“So I’ve heard,” you hissed.

“It was Sakura’s fault really,” one of the boys spoke up. Your eyes shot to him, and he visibly jumped. You didn’t recognise him nor the other 2 with him, only Sugishita. They must be new.

“And who is this Sakura that happened to drag my boyfriend into a fight with the Shishitoren?” you crossed your arms. 

They all pointed to an angry looking boy with half black half white hair, and different coloured eyes. You raised a brow at the peculiar looking boy. He did look like trouble.

“Uh… I…” he stammered, looking nervously at you. 

“We have enough hard-headed idiots with a death wish around here,” you spat, furiously. “Why the hell are you morons letting this kid pull you into a turf mess?”

“Hey I—” Sakura began to interject but the look you gave him was enough to shut him up.

You turned back to Umemiya, strutting towards him. He got up with a shy smile marring his features. You wouldn’t guess he was in hot water with how calm he seemed.

He leaned down to kiss you. A gentle peck to cool you down. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time it did.

“So are you going to tell me what caused this fight?” you asked, your tone a lot calmer than when you first came in. Hiragi let out an audible sigh of relief as you both sat down.

“Of course. Kotoha, bring her a plate, she’ll be here for a bit,” Ume said, waving at Kotoha.

Ume and Hiragi began telling the story, with the new boys, Sakura, Nirei, Suo jumping in occasionally. 

You couldn’t say you weren’t angry that it escalated to fighting as you were vehemently against the violent nature of the Bofurin, but you were glad that the issue was resolved.

After finishing your meal, you all left the restaurant. You, Kotoha and Ume made your way home in the dark. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew Ume was likely aching. He loved it, much to your dismay.

You chatted a bit with Kotoha as you walked peacefully, slowing down your step so Ume didn’t have to exert himself to keep up.

“Come on, I’ll change your bandages before we go to bed,” you said to Ume when you got into your little apartment. Kotoha went to her room immediately, feeling spent from her long day at the restaurant.

Ume took your hand as you both walked to your bedroom. Ume took his coat and shirt off before sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, while you changed into an oversized t-shirt and gathered the first aid kit you, unfortunately, always had to keep stocked up.

Ume was a role model and highly revered in this small town for his great leadership and kind heart. He used his fists to help and protect the community, which everyone was grateful for. 

You hated that this was the way. Ume has tried to explain the logic behind him fighting and enjoying it so much but to you, it still looked like unnecessary violence. 

You sat in between his extended legs and went to work on the nasty wound he had on his neck. You winced when you saw the gnarly bite mark. You got to work with your ointment and gauze, cleaning the area and wrapping it up again.

“This position is very…” Ume trailed off smiling suggestively. He let his hand wander to your exposed thigh.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warned, but his hand kept rising until it reached your underwear.

“Ume,” you practically growled. He retracted his hand with a pout, allowing you to continue your work in peace.

“I wish you didn’t have to do this,” you muttered sadly as you finished up. You got up to put the kit away, and returned to the bed. 

“It’s who I am,” he answered, “and it’s not for nothing.” You both laid down after getting under the blanket and you rested your head on his chest.

“It’s not who you are, though,” you countered, “You just like fighting for some reason. I don’t like it.”

“I fight for the people I love and for the people who need it,” he clarified. You couldn’t argue with that. It was true to an extent.

“Will you ever stop?” You asked.

“Of course I will,” he chuckled, “I can’t fight forever. Someone will eventually come along to take my spot.”

“Oh yeah?” you smiled skeptically, “Who would be strong enough for that?”

“I don’t know but the new kid seemed intent on it,” he responded.

“Who? Sakura?” His seemed like the most obvious choice, based on the little you’d seen of him.

“Yep. He said he came here for the top spot,” he answered, a hint of pride and warmth in his tone. “He has a good heart. No doubt, he’d be a good leader with the proper guidance.”

“He seemed like a little menace to me,” you scoffed.

“A bit,” he laughed, “but like I said, he has a good heart. Just a lot of things he needs to learn and work through.”

“Just like you had…”  You understood the empathy Umemiya felt towards people. It was by the grace of someone’s empathy and compassion that he became the man he was. 

You could remember it like yesterday, the day you met at the group home. His white hair and sad eyes caught your attention. He didn’t speak to anyone, refused to eat and was always looking for fights and trouble.

You kept your distance because, again, he was clearly troubled, but one day you saw him arriving with one of the foster carer workers, Shitara-sensei, looking a lot less… sad. You remembered staring at him in awe when he joined you and the other kids at the dinner table and ate. 

You grew closer until you became an official couple during your last year of middle school. It was only then that he told you what had happened that day and everything else that he had been keeping close to his chest. His parents death, his guilt over it that led him to look for fights that would harm him, or worse, kill him; his attempt to jump off a bridge, the Furin student that saved him. It was all a lot to take in but you did so for him. Ever since, you had been as thick as thieves, with you following behind him in his pursuits. 

Umemiya developed a noble ambition of becoming a protector, not only for the kids in our home, but for the community as a whole. That ambition propelled him to the top, where he established the Bofurin. You were always there to wipe the blood from his nose and bandage his battered hand. You hated every minute of it, but that was the only way to achieve his dream.

As you grew older, you thought of your future. A career, marriage, a home, kids. It scared you even more that you couldn’t see an end to the violence that Ume thought was gentle and necessary.

“Just like I had…” he echoed.

“You’ve been fighting for a long time,” you stated, placing a hand on his bruised cheek.

“We have,” he pecked your forehead.

You were an arguer. Kids weren’t particularly kind to orphans, but you were a weak little thing as a child, so you argued. You were quick to anger and you had a thesaurus of insults at your disposal, ready to be spat at anyone who crossed you. 

You spent a lot of years with your guard up, waiting for an attack to defend yourself and those you loved from. Through Ume’s endeavours, you soon didn’t need to have your guards up but you kept a few verbal knives ready just in case.

“We have,” you repeated, “and it’s time we stopped.”

“Soon,” he kissed your lips. A tactic to distract you.

“Promise me,” you demanded.

“I promise,” he conceded.

You studied his face for a moment, searching for any sign that he didn’t mean it. Finding none, you relaxed against him, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.