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#get to experience or feel. she had no one to turn to for many
ambrosiagoldfish · 2 days
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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
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colonelarr0w · 2 days
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I love your writing so much!!
Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.
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Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?
Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.
A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Love wasn't for everyone. 
That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime. 
Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.  
And you were okay with that. 
Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit. 
"You just haven't met the one yet!"  "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it." 
"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you." 
"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.  
"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  
Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking. 
"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar." 
Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.  
"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.  
"Nothing that would interest you." 
Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.  
Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade. 
"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in." 
You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.  
"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.  
He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry." 
Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.  
He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for." 
Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.  
You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it? 
To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.  
Neither of you say anything.    
One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.  
"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.  
"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?" 
You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.  
Did you really want to be alone? 
"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't." 
With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.  
Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend? 
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redrum-alice · 3 days
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A.B.A x Human Paracelsus fanfic ideaaaaaaaaa...
Summary: Human Paracelsus may be in a human body, but he can't help his thirst for blood. Just so happens that his wife accidentally cut her finger-- the smell of mercury doesn't stop him though :)
Warning: a bit NSFW-ish? Blood kink too-- Idk :P [Post Strive]
_____________
After a long search, A.B.A was finally able to find a body suited for Paracelsus. Just seeing him in his new form had her madly in love again now that he has arms to wrap around her...or so she thought.
While Paracelsus "appreciated" her gesture (albeit loosely), he can't help but to feel strange about this human form- so many sensations that are too overwhelming to comprehend. Flesh that he sought after in violence now plastered on this feeble yet lean body, something A.B.A wished for. After agreeing to make things better with his partner, he took his share of work and helped A.B.A live out her domestic fantasies, starting off with cooking meals after they found an abandoned cabin.
A.B.A isn't much of a cook in terms of what she serves. She understands and quickly learns about how it works, but using ingredients that are not suited for one another is what hinders her, often cleaned up by Paracelsus so she wouldn't get upset about her mishap.
One morning, he woke up to a delicious smell. Perhaps his wife finally grasped the fundamentals of basic cooking, but he wagered it'd be a risk if he went to try her concoction blindly. Having acquired a human sense of smell and taste, he needed to exercise them with better options rather than risking it with something foul.
Heading towards the kitchen, he saw the homunculous trying her best to whip up a a meal along with piles of dirty dishes on the sink that is wordlessly assigned to him. On the table were what humans call "scrambled eggs", but it seems that it had bits of shells left on them.
But besides the whole mess, he noticed that there's something in the young woman that he didn't quite notice before he acquired a human body.
Never had he viewed her as someone who has a venusian charm; her figure could be compared to those statues of women whose arms are cut off to expose their ample bosoms. He supposed that this is a human experience, one that is alien to him, for he had never got the concept of "attraction". His so-called wife, however, had showed him examples of what it is to be attracted to someone, which what got themselves into this situation.
"Dear, you're awake!" A.B.A turned around to her husband, snaping him from his daze. "I do hope your new form is not so much of a burden..."
"I'm fine, A.B.A." he lied, not wanting to upset her.
The homunculous only responded with gleeful demeanor and returned to her task. "I'm sure you're experiencing hunger for the first time...after days of walking to find shelter." She hummed sweetly. "I-I'm trying to make something to replenish you..."
Paracelsus stayed quiet and proceeded to sit on the chair. When they entered the cabin, all the furnitures were blanketed with dust, including the table they occupied. To his surprise, it was clean and it even had a vase of fresh flowers that she must've picked outside- it was a small silent countryside after all. He assumed that A.B.A did all this while he was sleeping. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was impressed. She did always go above and beyond to provide for them.
All of a sudden, he heard a squeal.
"Eek!" She screamed, followed by a sound of metal clanking on a wooden board.
"A.B.A! Are you alright?" Paracelsus stood up and rushed to his partner. "What happened?"
"I-it's nothing, dear..." she reluctantly responded. "Y-you should prepare the plates..."
Not buying a word, he beckoned her to show what she was hiding in her arms. A.B.A eventually complied, not wishing to disappoint her husband in fear that he would get frustrated and walk out of the door, seeing that he can now freely go anywhere he wish with those limbs. She hesitantly gave her hand to him, hoping he wouldn't think of her any less for a simple mistake of cutting her finger by accident.
"I-I should have been more careful, dear. I'm not fit to be a good wife if I keep being reckless." She shuddered, an instinct that Paracelsus know all too well when she's stressed. The crimson red substance pooled from the slit on her pale finger down to her palm.
He shouldn't have looked directly at it.
Paracelsus knew that his cravings for blood won't be diluted even if he was in a human body. He is a demon after all. But it was a strange feeling that wasn't akin to hunger, but something else. Yes, it is true that A.B.A had a mixture of mercury in her blood, but its color was as fascinating as that of a human blood.
He excused himself and wasted no time in finding a first aid kit, but the girl halted him by grabbing his arm. Paranoia was something she could not get rid of, even if it jeopardizes her in dire situations.
"No wait! I can fix it!" She insisted as she tugged on his arm, carelessly rubbing her wounded hand and letting her blood smudge on his skin. He gulped, feeling how wet and warm it seemed.
"Please dear, I can handle it! Let me wrap it myself. I'm sorry to have made you worried." A.B.A tugged on her bandanges on her leg, neverminding if it exposes her further.
All of these happening in front of him was driving him insane: his wife's intoxicating blood, her sweet panicked face, and her leg that teased him as soon as those bandages were repurposed to aid her wound.
Before she could wrap it on her hand, Paracelsus grabbed her injured hand and inspected it. What comes next was something A.B.A herself found shocking.
He licked her wound and begun sucking on it.
The sensation was so overwhelming that she was certain she nearly forgot the ability to speak. A.B.A watched in astonishment until she felt her legs wobble; only then she regained her voice.
"D-dear...?" She found herself having difficulty expressing her thoughts. Paracelsus kept sucking on her blood, not minding how it burns his tongue. What a pathetic flesh, he thought.
As if his fighting spirit also got converted into a human equivalent, he soon finds himself grabbing A.B.A closer to him and eventually trailing his free hand dangerously close to her plump ass. The young female homunculous couldn't help but to admire what her generous and loving husband is doing to her, evident by how her breathing quickened.
Soon, he carried her and pinned her down on the table. Screw the eggs, he was hungry for something this new body was craving for- her flesh. His ravenous side earning the upper hand as he starts to kiss his bride harshly on her lips, making A.B.A fluster more than she usually does. Those kisses turned into full on lip-locking, pooling their mouths with each other's saliva. His kisses soon attacked her neck, ripping off the bandanges that was blocking him from giving his sweet wife the pleasure she deserves.
It was no doubt that even in human form, he was still susceptive to primal urges such as blood, but this time, it was mixed with carnal desire.
And it seems he wasn't the only one enjoying it. A.B.A was more than eager to reciprocate this affection. She was more than ready to finally do it with her husband after years of solitude.
Oh how sweet it was to finally consumate their marriage.
Er...to be continued on ao3? This is just a stupid fanfic idea 💀🔫
Tagging @l00nwizard and @weeko bc of your replies. Sorry if this one is not too wholesome, but its a ficlet ig 💀😭🔫
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acourtofthought · 2 days
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Regarding Lucien’s scars. I think it’s basically a headcanon in the fandom that Lucien still has the scars on his back from being whipped, but if those are present in canon too, that could be interesting. Howeverrrr… the facial scar must be kind of a big deal for Lucien. Amarantha attacked him 50ish years ago and then within a few days she organized that masquerade ball “in Lucien’s honor” - the masked theme was a scheme to help him basically hide what she did to his face. Then the masks were plastered to the faces of everyone in Spring Court because Tamlin didn’t accept to sleep with Amarantha. So here’s Lucien, hiding his scars for 50 years no matter how uncomfortable the whole mask situation may have been… but now his facial scar that he cannot hide anywhere (unlike Azriel’s hands) is just in full view for anyone who looks at him. I think there is no question about it. He must be self conscious about it, especially since he thinks Elain is the most beautiful female he has ever seen and she doesn’t reciprocate anything yet. People have been writing about it here on tumblr recently but I really hope SJM explores Lucien’s character from this perspective too. I assume he must feel very inadequate compared to Elain. She has so much (family, friends, connected to the IC, safety and security, beauty, etc.), whereas Lucien refers to himself as a whole lot of nothing. He doesn’t have a home or even a court, he’s basically all alone in the fae world, his closest allies are two humans who so far don’t have much power or influence in Prythian. I assume he is probably also unhappy with his looks after such a traumatic experience. I hope SJM explores this, I think that would be a really cool addition to Elucien’s healing journey. Even though Lucien is quite snarky and cocky outwardly, his inner monologue seems very self conscious. Ahhh SJM give us the angstttttt
I AGREE!!!!!! I think while there are sincere aspects of Lucien's personality that are (hahaha, I just accidentally typed snocky which was my brain getting confused on whether I wanted to type snarky or cocky first) snarky and cocky, I also feel it's a default mechanism too. Lucien is known to take care in his appearance and he is aware of appearances. Even in book once he was a bit of a fashionista, commenting on how Feyre's tunic wasn't as pretty as a dress and being amazed at how positively fae she looked when she did finally put one on. There's also this: Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this" - he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-" surely we're not so miserable to look at. Lucien must be constantly aware of others looking at him and I'm guessing he's never sure if it's about the eye or if his scars are unappealing to them. For someone who does care about appearances, whose job it is to talk to High Lords and make friends to be a successful emissary, there is definitely an inner discomfort he's trying to brush off through his nonchalance and jokes about his appearance. I think you're right. Elain is beautiful to the point that people talk. Eris somehow heard across courts that Lucien's mate is a real beauty. She had heiresses jealous of her at barely thirteen. Her mother commented that if her beauty held, she'd be able to secure them a decent match on the marriage market (Elain was 11). So Lucien comes along and not only is he given this super special, sacred bond with her but she turns out to be the most beautiful female he'd ever seen all while knowing that she's in love with someone else. And there he is, with no home, no family name, a scar running down his face and one eye. I would take Lucien in a second and we know that many in the ACOTAR world reference his good looks but you can see how he would struggle with his appearance. You can see how Elain literally took his breath away and she did not seem effected by him (I imagine we'll find out that wasn't the truth in her POV but it's how he perceived it at the time). He thinks she doesn't want him or need him and I definitely think we're going to find that he's been feeling very insecure about her perception of his physical appearance.
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Sorry this ask turned into an essay — as I explain I have a personal connection to this topic and a lot of thoughts on it, ha
On the topic of Taylor’s discussion of Joe’s depression — I have never seen anyone claim that she has made fun of it, but I have seen some discussions from people who feel that she’s been unfair or insensitive with how she’s spoken about it, or that she broke up with him because he was “too depressed” and that she was blaming him for things he can’t control. Renegade has been used as an example of this, and more recently So Long London (specifically “you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days).
I don’t want to speak for anyone but myself here or invalidate anyone’s feelings of hurt with how Taylor addresses these topics (because that is entirely fair to be hurt by if you interpret it in that way), but I will say this: as someone who has been on both sides of this equation (I have clinical depression that I’m in the process of getting medication for, and I’ve also had multiple relationships with people who were going through severe mental health struggles that I was trying to support them through), I don’t think that the way Taylor has referenced Joe’s depression affecting her in her music seems cruel to him. I’ve never gotten the impression that she is blaming him for struggling or that she expected him to just stop struggling and get better, or even that that’s the reason their relationship ended. I think there’s a lot of frustration in those songs, and while I understand why some may balk at that, it can be really frustrating at times to love someone who doesn’t love themselves, or who is pushing you away at every turn. It’s not their fault, and I don’t think Taylor is framing it as such, but that can make it even more frustrating when it feels like things are breaking down and there is nothing you can do to fix it.
And I feel like it’s kind of taboo to talk about those feelings because (in my experience at least) they’re wrapped up in so much guilt? I was in a relationship very similar to the one described in Renegade once, and I would get into this cycle where my partner would be struggling, I would try to help them, they would push me away and/or say things that would really hurt me, I would feel upset and hurt, but then feel so guilty for being upset and hurt because I knew they didn’t mean it the way it felt and that this wasn’t about me, so I would just keep those feelings to myself and say nothing, and it would start all over again. These aren’t pretty emotions at all, and I fully understand why some people are hurt by the way Taylor talks about them, but I think there’s a big difference between “I’m frustrated because my partner is struggling and I feel like I’m giving them everything I have but nothing ever changes and it’s hurting me” and “my partner is too depressed to deal with, why won’t they just get over it?”
I’ve had loved ones tell me tell me to just stop being depressed before — I know that hurt very well, and at least to me, this feels different. Honestly I really appreciate songs like Renegade and So Long London because hearing someone else talk about that experience has made me feel less like I was some uniquely horrible person incapable of being the perfect supporting partner that I should have been. I think it’s just a shitty, frustrating situation where no one is solely to blame, and I think that’s how Taylor presents it.
But again, this is just my opinion — I can totally see how and why people might interpret them differently and feel hurt by them, and I don’t want to speak over those feelings at all
Hi friend! First of all tysm for being so open and honest about your personal struggles with both yourself and past relationships - I'm grateful you feel you can be safe here talking about that. And secondly in your grace and empathy in understanding the many potential sticky layers of feeling here and how this might be ruffly and uncomfortable for people. I love that so much.
My interpretation has always very much been in alignment with yours. And I think if this album was seeking to do any one thing it was to wield honesty like a blunt force instrument - even and especially when the truth is uncomfortable and can be alienating. I've never once interpreted her documentation of a partner's mental health struggles as "get over it" (is there anyone who better understands how fucking hard it is to get over literally anything than Taylor?). But I feel the line that haunts me most is, "I gave you all my best me's / My endless empathy / And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier". And the uncomfortable truth is that it is so incredibly painful to be in love with someone who doesn't love themselves and who has proven (despite years of begging and pleading and patience and kindness) that they are not interested in becoming someone who can love you better. And it's unfair and shitty and horrible to have your "spine split from carrying [both of you] up the hill" for years. You feel sad for them. You feel sad for you. You feel sad that you feel sad. And then you feel mad that they are making you sad. And and and.
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imagines-ahs · 1 day
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Chapter Forty-Eight: Bisque.
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Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.
Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)
“Affection memories are the best kind,” Billie’s words came as soft as melted butter. “How old were you?”
I’m not sure I have many of those. “Six.”
“I wish I could have seen young Wilhemina eating cheesecake for the first time.” The corners of Billie Dean’s sparkled lightly. Venable couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as she took another bite.
“Do you have any pictures from when you were young?”
Even though the question seemed a little odd, Billie had learned not to judge. It was safe to say their experiences in life had been very different, even though they shared their fair amount of similarities. She nodded as she took a bite. “I do. Why?”
Wilhemina shrugged. “I’d like to see them… sometime. If that’s alright with you.”
“Of course.” Weird. But it made sense… Billie did want to see younger Venable, too.
Wilhemina nodded slowly as she looked down at her plate. I think I might have a few pictures from school… Granted, she had always hated taking pictures. Brown eyes moved back up to Billie Dean, and a small smile graced Venable’s features as she realized the small amount of cream cheese on Billie’s face. “Your chin,” she said softly.
“Hm?”
“You have cream cheese on your chin.”
“Oh.” Billie let her fork go and reached for a napkin. She chuckled as she wiped her face clean. “Thank you.” Embarrassing.
“Of course.” I can’t believe the nerve of her to look good even with cream cheese on her face.
Carefully taking one last bite, Billie Dean set her plate aside. She licked her lips and made sure no bits were left on her cheeks. Venable still savored the dessert, and so honey eyes watched her. In no time, they were back at the living room with the dishwasher all loaded and running. Purpura sleepily watched them from her spot at the center table.
“That was good,” Billie sat back down at the couch, right beside Wilhemina, whom nodded.
“When did you first find out you had a talent for finding good food?” Venable teased as she leaned back against the couch. Billie Dean let out a small chuckle. Is it safe to feel that comfortable around her? That was a constant doubt in her mind.
“I think it’s a talent only for you.” She reached for one of Venable’s legs, hand resting on her knee and caressing it on top of the pants.
Wilhemina smiled to herself. Floratta Blue permeated her house in comforting tones of coral. “If you say so…”
“Mhm.” Leaning closer, Billie kissed Wilhemina’s cheek before resting back on the couch.
With the corners of her eyes sparkling lightly, Venable turned her head to stare at Billie Dean. The caresses on her leg no longer felt foreign. Such a short time… Things with Emma had taken so long so develop to whatever it had been. How was any of that even happening with Billie? “Will you help me set my iPad?”
“Of course.”
Afternoon dawned and night arrived pretty fast. Shades of orange invaded the living room as Billie Dean was just done helping Wilhemina set everything, and then Venable got up to turn the light on. The iPad now lay charging on the corner table, already with the purple case on and a few apps installed. Honey eyes watched as Wilhemina caressed Purpura on her way back to the couch, and as she was about to comment on her trousers, her phone began to ring from her purse. Brown eyes moved to hers. Billie Dean bit her lower lip and wished the name on the screen didn’t start with the letter ‘E’—thankfully, it didn’t. “It’s Jenny,” she told Venable before walking to the bathroom, receiving a nod back. Closing the door, Billie quickly picked it up. “Hello?”
“Stop ignoring my texts!” From the other side, Jenny yelled teasingly.
“I’m not!” Billie said with a chuckle. “I just haven’t been around my phone today.”
“Oh! Oh—oh! You’re at her house?!”
Laughing, Billie Dean moved to sit down on the closed toilet lid. “Yes, I am.” Her words were quiet, low.
“Did you spend the night? Oh, of course you did!”
Billie couldn’t help but find Jenny’s excitement funny. “I did, but nothing happened.”
“How come?”
“We’re going slow.”
“Did you make out at least?”
“Jenny!”
“Come on!”
Smiling to herself, Billie Dean nodded on the phone. “Yes…”
“So she does have feelings for you, huh?”
“… yes.”
“Where’s my ‘You told me, Jenny. You’re always right, Jenny. I should give you a raise, Jenny.’?”
“Shut up!” Billie chuckled yet again, hearing as the girl did the same on the other side of the phone. After a moment, she bit her lip. Their laughs died down. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” Jenny’s voice came softly, now. “On a more serious note, is everything alright? Is she treating you well and not like she’s made out of ice?”
Billie Dean shook her head. “She’s the sweetest, Jenny…”
“If you say so.”
“Truly.”
“I believe you.”
Billie licked her lips as she thought. “Was Emma alright? Yesterday, when you dropped her home?”Silence. Billie Dean felt Jenny shifting on the other side of the line. Oh no.
“She was just drunk. Do you really want to talk about her now?”
“She said something about Terry, didn’t she?”
Jenny took a deep breath. Billie gulped. “She said a lot of things…”
“Jenny…”
“Yes. She did talk about Terry.”
“Fuck,” Billie breathed out. Closing her eyes, she reached to massage her temple. “What did she say?”
“I don’t remember exactly—or rather, I didn’t understand it very well— but it was something that had to do with telling Wilhemina about her.” Billie Dean groaned. “She was drunk and very much mad at you, I doubt she’ll do anything,” Jenny tried to amend. It didn’t help much.
“She thinks she knows what happened, and she’s assuming that’s what I am doing with Wilhemina.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s not it, Jenny. Terry wasn’t even fired because of that!” Her voice raised a little. Billie quickly took notice of it and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
From the other side, Jenny gulped. “I know, Billie… but you do know that a few people can’t help but make that connection, right?”
Billie Dean took a deep breath. “Yes…” And it fucking sucks. Just another thing people assumed about her life, as if she didn’t have enough of that already.
“Have you told her about it?”
“Wilhemina?”
“Yes.”
“No… not yet.” Honey eyes fell down. Billie sucked on her lower lip. “I think it’s too soon.”
“Billie, it’s either you telling her or her possibly finding it out through Emma… and I really don’t think you’d like the latter.”
“I know,” Billie Dean murmured. “What else did she tell you?”
“She just cried a lot… and called you a bunch of names.”
“Fair,” she murmured again.
“Not really, but we’ll not dwell on that right now.” Billie nodded to herself. “Are you spending the weekend there?”
“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, Billie Dean sat up a little better. “Why?”
“Just asking. The reports about the party should be out on Monday, and we need to approve the pictures for the special.”
“Right. You can ask them to e-mail me the material.” I desperately need a break from working. The end of the year was always hectic for Billie Dean.
“Already did. They’re waiting on an answer until Monday, noon.”
“Perfect. We can do it in the morning, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Do I need to do anything this weekend?” Billie had found Jenny’s question a little odd, so it was always best to ask.
“Not really. I was just curious about you and her,” the girl chuckled.
“Oh.” Chuckling back, Billie got up from the lid. That’s good at least. “I’ll tell you more on Monday.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting excitedly as the reason for all of that to be happening I am.”
“Silly,” Billie Dean teased back. “Alright, I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Alright. Have a good weekend, wink wink.”
“You too, you annoying human.” With both of them laughing, Billie ended the call. She looked up to the mirror and fixed her clothes and hair, eyes glued on herself. She sighed. She’ll think I do that with everybody. Maybe that talk could wait until Monday… or at least until tomorrow. Billie Dean decided she wouldn’t think about it now. At least not for the night. She still had another whole day before the next week, after all.
Quietly stepping out of the bathroom, Billie Dean walked back to the living room; she didn’t find Venable there. “Wilhie?”
“In the bedroom,” Venable called back.
Quietly still, Billie Dean followed that way. As she got to the room, her eyes were graced with the lovely image of Wilhemina, sitting on the bed with Purpura and a tube of lotion by her side. Lavender notes invaded her nostrils. Billie smiled. “Are you moisturizing her?” She remembered Venable had said something about it, once.
Wilhemina nodded. She reached for more of the lotion and gently caressed the cat’s back, which purred lowly. “Winter makes her skin drier.”
“She’s so well behaved.” Carefully, Billie sat down beside Wilhemina. She watched as her hands worked on Purpura, so gentle and caring. And with such long and dainty fingers… not now. Billie Dean licked her lips and looked back up at Venable, watching the way she was so absolutely focused on the cat, with lips curling up and eyes so soft above the sky of freckles there. To be loved by her must be holy. She could only wish to experience that one day. “Can I help?”
Taken positively aback, deep brown eyes met honey ones. “To moisturize her?” Billie nodded. Venable opened a smile. “Of course.” She reached for the lotion and pushed it closer to Billie Dean. “Here. Her chest is missing still.
“Okay.” As gentle as she could, Billie Dean scooped a small amount of lotion on her fingers and began to caress the cat’s chest, right underneath her neck. Purpura purred a little louder, shifting on the mattress to accommodate the hand. Billie smiled, and as she looked up at Wilhemina, their eyes and smile met again. Air seemed scarce all of a sudden. I want to give her the world.
I love her. When had anyone ever treated Purpura like that? When had anyone wanted to be a part of her life like that? How scary? How good? How foreign? “She likes it,” Wilhemina said, voice as soft as melted butter. “She likes you.”
With a tiny chuckle, Billie Dean used all of her strength to take her eyes off of Venable and look back at the cat. “I like her, too.” With her free hand and mindful of her nails, she reached to pet the cat’s head. Purpura leaned against it, eyes closed. Another chuckle left Billie’s lips.
With her teeth trapping her lips in order not to allow them to smile too big, Wilhemina kept on watching them. She pulled her hands away and wiped them on a towel she had taken, cleaning them of the lotion. After a minute or two, she spoke again. “Thank you for being so nice to her…”
“Of course,” Billie Dean’s eyebrows drew closer in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Venable shrugged. My mind clearly works wrong. “It’s just that… a few people can be mean because of—of how she looks.” Just like they are to me. She nervously licked her lips. “You know… the skin.”
Billie’s frown grew for a second until she understood just how deep the topic actually was. Her eyes reflected nothing but kindness now. “There’s nothing wrong with how she looks, Wilhie… and even if there were, quote on quote, something wrong about her, that wouldn’t be an excuse for people to treat her in any way but kind.” Gulping again, Wilhemina nodded. She took a discrete deep breath and clutched the small purple towel on her lap. Billie Dean took notice of it. She’s nervous. With her own heart picking up slightly in speed, Billie looked down at the cat for a second before looking back up at Venable. Her lips curled up on the corners. “Besides, I think she looks really cute.”
This time, it was Wilhemina who looked away from Billie Dean. Her cheeks tinted softly. The underlying tone of their conversation was very much explicit. “R-really?”
“Oh, yeah.” She knows I’m talking about her. There was no need to point that out. Billie had been learning compliments and words of affirmation were better left in the murky, at least for now. “More than cute, I think she’s beautiful.” Clutching the towel in her hands a little harsher, Venable nodded quietly. She slowly looked back up, and when her eyes met honey ones again, she found a look in them that left her warm all over, sweet all over, comforted all over. Billie Dean’s smile grew lovingly, pouring affection all over. Carefully not to disturb Purpura, Billie scooted closer to Wilhemina, hand reaching to cup one of her cheeks—slowly, so she could ask her to stop if she wanted. She didn’t. Billie Dean’s thumb caressed the plump crimson skin with so much tenderness it nearly hurt. Venable sighed lowly. “You’re beautiful, Wilhemina,” she whispered, voice as soft as a cozy blanket and as sweet as honey. She could feel Venable’s breath against her lips, faster than usual and oh so inviting. So she kissed her, slow and gentle and affectionate.
With blood rushing up to her head, Wilhemina felt her hands trembling against the cloth. She did the best she could and let go of it, reaching to caress Billie’s arm as she kissed her back. Their lips danced slowly and passionately, and for a split second Venable felt herself losing touch with the parts that could be so damn horrible to her. Her lips picked up in intensity, and she subconsciously scooted closer to Billie Dean, too. Purpura meowed from between them, therefore causing the kiss the break. Wilhemina took a deep breath as she stared at Billie’s eyes, lips rosy and tingling deliciously. Billie Dean watched her closely, thumb still tracing Venable’s cheek. I’m terrified things will change. Reality set back in. Wilhemina gulped. “I’m n-not used to that…”
“Compliments?” Venable nodded. I know. Billie smiled sadly. “Any chance I can help you get used to them?”
With her cheeks still red and hot, Wilhemina bit her lower lip. Hesitantly, she nodded. “It might take a while…” It might never happen at all.
With the softest smile she could manage, Billie Dean reached to tuck a lock of red hair behind Venable’s ear. “That’s okay,” she whispered. Billie felt as dark brown eyes fell down to her lips, so she leaned closer and kissed Wilhemina again, which got herself a sweet sigh. Billie Dean pulled away just enough to stare at Venable. “I’m not in a rush.” She had said that already, about many things, but she would never grow tired of easing Wilhemina’s mind.
And yet again, there she was… bare, raw in front of Billie. Vulnerable, and yet she didn’t feel so scared. That’s scary. Would that become something usual for her?
Sunday morning arrived as sweetly as the past night had been; Wilhemina found herself falling asleep tangled in Billie Dean’s arms again, this time receiving kisses on the forehead until she, eventually, allowed sleep to win. When the first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, their limbs were still tangled and their skin was still warm from their embrace. It was Venable who opened her eyes first, eyebrows close as she frowned from the light. When her vision wasn’t so blurry anymore, Wilhemina focused on whatever was in front of her—it happened to be Billie, still fast asleep and with her lips inches away from her own. She took a deep breath. I kissed her. Venable licked her own chapped lips, body falling slowly into reality as it got aware of its position: legs tangled with Billie Dean’s, an arm that wasn’t its own wrapped around her waist, feet touching, blonde hair tickling her face. How lovely was it, to not wake up alone? To not always be by herself? Wilhemina took another deep breath, brown oceans examining the face in front of hers. Is she even real? Venable still had her doubts. Billie frowned as a strand of her own hair tickled her face, nose scrunching up. Wilhemina smiled to herself and reached to pull the strand of hair away and behind Billie Dean’s ear. As she pulled her hand away, she couldn’t help but brush her knuckles against Billie’s face, caressing her peachy skin. I shouldn’t be so attached already. How could she not? When that woman treated her and made her feel a way she had never experienced before? Venable watched as Billie Dean began to slowly open her eyes. She smiled sleepily to herself.
Letting out a small sigh, Billie hummed as her vision came into consciousness, body snuggling closer to whatever was providing it warmth. Lavender soon clouded her senses, and so Billie Dean finally fixated on the face in front of her. Her lips mirrored Wilhemina’s sleepy smile. Was she watching me? “Hi,” Billie croaked out, as sweet as she could manage in her state.
“Hello.” Venable’s smile grew as her cheeks began to tint for some reason. Down her legs, she felt as Billie Dean’s foot caressed her own. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Billie shook her head before hiding her face against the pillow to cover a yawn. Her hand reached for Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her closer. “You didn’t.” She looked back at dark brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded if you had, though.”
Venable nodded at the words as spidery fingers slowly moved up to cup Billie Dean’s cheek. Wilhemina just stared at her for a minute before taking a deep breath. “I like waking up next to you,” she whispered. I didn’t know not being alone could ever feel this way.
Coral fingernails scratched softly against the cloth of Venable’s purple pajamas, caressing her waist and the small of her back. Billie Dean leaned closer and kissed her gently on the lips. I hope my breath is tolerable. “I like waking up next to you, too,” she whispered back. Wilhemina stared at her like she was made of all the stars in the universe, eyes shining and all. Billie couldn’t help but pull her even closer, and this time Venable’s hand fell down to her waist and pulled her closer, too. Their bodies left no space between each other, breaths mingling. “I sleep pretty well when I’m with you… you’re warm and you don’t snore,” she teased.
Chuckling lowly, Wilhemina bit her lip to stop her smile from growing too much. “Why, thank you. I could say the same, but your feet are freezing,” she teased back, because being playful didn’t come with a sentence of being punished when it came to Billie Dean.
With a laugh, Billie made sure her feet were well tangled with Venable’s. “I don’t know why they’re so cold.”
Wilhemina hummed. She reached for the hand that caressed her waist and tangled her fingers with Billie Dean’s. “So is your hand.” She caressed the cold digits between her own, trying to warm them up. “Are you cold?”
“Not really.” Billie licked her lips, and part of her heart still melted every time she was reminded of how just how caring Venable was with her. “Are you?”
“No,” Wilhemina shook her head. She let go of Billie Dean’s hand and now caressed her arm, even though Billie had said she wasn’t cold. Billie Dean didn’t mind, not at all. She kept a smile printed on her lips. “Are you hungry?” I should have bought some pastries.
“A little.”
“I can cook us an omelette, or maybe I can go out and get a few pastries, if you’d like. There’s this—“
“Wilhie,” Billie Dean cut Venable gently just as she was about to start lifting the covers to get out of bed. Wilhemina looked at her. “Can we cuddle a little?”
With her cheeks turning purple, Venable nodded. She blinked twice before slowly snuggling closer to Billie again. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Billie Dean shook her head. Hadn’t it been Wilhemina, she could have thought that maybe there was something wrong with her, but being Venable, she knew she was simply eager to please. “You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered back. Her hand found its place on Wilhemina’s waist again, caressing it. She’s always so anxious.
With a nod, brown eyes fell down. Venable took a deep breath. I’m so idiotic. The deprecating voice was already up and running. She gulped and looked back at honey oceans, legs tangling back with Billie’s. After a moment, she spoke again. “I like cuddling with you,” she said, because part of her felt like Billie Dean could maybe be thinking otherwise, and she didn’t want to ever cause Billie Dean to think like that.
She’s worried. Opening a smile, Billie reached to pull a strand of read hair away from Venable’s eyes. “I know, darling. I didn’t think otherwise.”
Darling. Wilhemina didn’t know if her stomach would ever stop turning with the pet name. This is the second time she’s called me that. How delicious did it feel? “Good,” she murmured somewhat shyly.
Billie Dean hummed back, hand caressing her waist slowly, feeling as it rose and fell with Venable’s breathing. She stared at those chocolate eyes in front of her, watching the way they moved away and back to her own. She’s shy. Her lips curled up softly. “Did you dream of anything?”
Wilhemina shook her head, eyes struggling to stay at brown ones. “Not that I remember. Did you?”
Billie Dean had actually had a dream; she saw a woman, hair red just like Venable’s, face full of suffering and with lines well marked. She cried, but couldn’t speak. Wilhemina didn’t need to know that. “Not really.” Venable hummed. Billie licked her lips, eyes tracing the soft freckles on Wilhemina’s cheeks. “I love your freckles,” she said after a second.
To be stared at like that had never felt good… not until Billie Dean. Venable’s skin grew red still, but not from being uncomfortable. “I’m not a huge fan of them…”
What’s new? Wilhemina didn’t seem to be a huge fan of anything that made her who she was. Billie didn’t need to point that out, but she did keep that in mind. “You always cover them, don’t you?” Venable nodded. Billie Dean opened a sad smile. “I love them,” she repeated.
Wilhemina gulped. She nodded again, eyes falling down before going back up. She licked her sudden dry lips. “Thank you.”
Billie couldn’t help but smile a little more. It was clear Venable wasn’t used to being complimented, or having any kind of intimacy with people, but there was something so sweet about it… so strangely pure, in a way. Most people wouldn’t see it that way, but Billie Dean had never been most people. So she leaned closer and placed a small kiss on Wilhemina’s nose, and then another one on her left cheek, and another one on her right one, right on top of the freckles. Wilhemina blinked twice, and with a chuckle Billie Dean kissed her full on the lips, reaching to cup her face.
Sunday went by with nothing but sweet kisses being shared and a movie or two being watched. When the night began to fall down again, Billie Dean hesitantly went back home, but with the promise of seeing each other on Monday morning. Billie knew she should have talked about Terry; knew she should have brought it up before anyone else had the chance, but how could she when Venable looked at her so lovingly and gave her more trust than she had ever given anyone in a long time? Billie Dean simply didn’t have the guts to do it. And she prayed no one would before she could master the courage to do so.
At night, Wilhemina caught herself missing the warmth of another body next to her. Floratta Blue lingered in the air only slightly, and Venable wished she could smell more of it. Fear clouded her senses before sleep could, trying to trick her, trying to scare her. Wilhemina closed her eyes and thought about Billie; about the kiss they shared just before she entered her car and drove home that evening. Nothing would change in the morning. Nothing would change in the week. Right?
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jennyboom21 · 3 days
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In 2023 actor Sophia Bush made headlines when she filed for divorce one year after a storybook wedding. By the fall it was public knowledge that she was in a new relationship. With a woman. The internet seemed to be foaming at the digital mouth for a scandal, but to those who knew her, it was clear she’d never been more herself. Here, in her own words, Bush speaks to the power of finally learning to listen to her intuition.
In April of 2022 I was close to calling off my wedding. Instead of running away, I doubled down on being a model wife. In 2023 my now ex-husband posted a lovely tribute to our first anniversary on Instagram. When I saw it, I felt the blood drain from my face. Fans and friends were telling me how exciting this milestone was and how happy I looked. I felt nothing. Things hadn’t been easy at home, but everyone says marriage is hard, right? As the day wore on, I felt mounting pressure from strangers online waiting for me to post something—what a strange part of public life to have to navigate—so I sat myself down and chose a picture.
It was a black-and-white photograph of us running away from the camera. Yes, I see the bittersweet irony now. I wrote a really nice story about the people in that picture. Except it was just that: a story. I typed something about how incredibly happy I was and tried to drown out the familiar voice in my head. Make it look easy. Make it look perfect. If your smile is shiny enough, maybe no one will notice that up close all of your teeth are broken. But sometimes broken is just broken.
I hit post. And then I walked into the bathroom and threw up.
I believe in people and ideas so deeply—and those feelings are often so powerful to me—that I hadn’t realized I’d spent the last two decades moving through life showing up for others but often turning my back on myself. This time things felt different. Maybe it’s just cold feet, I told myself. Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe this was the feeling you get when you settle down later in life and have to make space for another person. There have been moments in my life when it feels like the universe is screaming at me to pay attention. This was one of them, but I didn’t listen.
I kept repeating the adages we all know so well: Relationships are hard. Marriage takes compromise. You know the rest. And so I got married. We threw one of the greatest wedding weekends ever. We had an amazing time with our closest friends and family. It was truly one of the best parties I’ve ever been to, and we raised a ton of money for charity. I don’t regret any of that.
But after the wedding I found myself in the depths and heartbreak of the fertility process, which was the most clarifying experience of my life. It feels like society is finally making space for brutally honest conversations about how hard and painful any fertility journey is, but I kept mine private. I was trying to get through months of endless ultrasounds, hormone shots, so many blood draws that I have scar tissue in my veins, and retrieval after retrieval, while simultaneously realizing the person I had chosen to be my partner didn’t necessarily speak the same emotional language I did.
As I lost track of how many examination tables I had lain on alone, I felt something in me seismically shift. Six months into that journey, I think I knew deep down that I absolutely had made a mistake. It would take my head and heart a while longer to understand what my bones already knew.
And that’s why, when I got an opportunity to do a play in London, I had to go. I had to get out of our house. I had to get onstage. I had to get back in my body. Maybe that could shift things. Maybe that would jump-start the joy I’d been chasing. The play slowly began to put me back together. It was grueling, and it was also the most exhilarating experience. I loved every second of it.
But the book doesn’t lie. The body does, in fact, keep the score. When half of our company went down with a virus, everyone recovered fast except for me. I continued to decline. I would put every fiber of my being into my performance onstage, and then be packed in bags of ice as soon as the curtain closed. I spent multiple nights in the hospital, I was pumped with endless amounts of fluids, I underwent cardiac testing and organ monitoring. It was clear that my body was screaming and I had to listen. It was hard for me to accept. I was part of a team. But I needed to go home, where my doctors (and, truthfully, my health insurance) could get a better handle on my symptoms. My time in London was over. So was my marriage. It all came crashing down at once.
During the summer of 2023, I moved back into my empty home in LA. I was separated and preparing to file for divorce, and groups of women in my life started opening up about issues they were going through in their own homes. It seemed like every week there were more of us, including [former US soccer player] Ashlyn [Harris], whom I’d first met in 2019 and who was in the process of figuring out her own split from her wife. She’d been such a kind ear for those of us who opened up about our problems during a shared weekend of speaking engagements at a fancy conference in Cannes, and soon it became clear that she needed our ears too.
For those of us who had no solution in sight or Hail Marys left, having this community changed everything. We really wrapped one another up in support. It was tragic and hard. But it was also beautiful. There were moments of incredible sadness because no one signs up to get married thinking it’ll end. The days when we knew people needed to laugh, we sent inspirational memes and silly TikToks. We read books written by great therapists and shared emo quotes from poets. Our “Begin Again” Amazon shopping list, which we created for the ones moving out and starting over, has now been forwarded to so many other women.
I didn’t expect to find love in this support system. I don’t know how else to say it other than: I didn’t see it until I saw it. And I think it’s very easy not to see something that’s been in front of your face for a long time when you’d never looked at it as an option and you had never been looked at as an option. What I saw was a friend with her big, happy life. And now I know she thought the same thing about me.
It really took other people in our safe support bubble pointing out to me how we’d finish each other’s sentences or be deeply affected by the same things. When you’re so in the trenches of hardship—plus you have the added weight of having to go through it on a public stage—it can be hard to see anything but what’s right in front of you.
It took me confronting a lot of things, what felt like countless sessions of therapy, and some prodding from loved ones, but eventually I asked Ashlyn to have a non-friend-group hang to talk about it.
And that meal was four and a half hours long and truly one of the most surreal experiences of my life thus far. In hindsight, maybe it all had to happen slowly and then suddenly all at once. Maybe it was all fated. Maybe it really is a version of invisible string theory. I don’t really know. But I do know that for a sparkly moment I felt like maybe the universe had been conspiring for me. And that feeling that I have in my bones is one I’ll hold on to no matter where things go from here.
But there was a lot that quickly turned ugly too. People looking in from the outside weren’t privy to just how much time it took, how many painful conversations were had. A lot of effort was made to be graceful with other people’s processing, their time and obligations, and their feelings. What felt like seconds after I started to see what was in front of me, the online rumor mill began to spit in the ugliest ways. There were blatant lies. Violent threats. There were accusations of being a home-wrecker. The ones who said I’d left my ex because I suddenly realized I wanted to be with women—my partners have known what I’m into for as long as I have (so that’s not it, y’all, sorry!).
The idea that I left my marriage based on some hysterical rendezvous—that, to be crystal-clear, never happened—rather than having taken over a year to do the most soul crushing work of my life? Rather than realizing I had to be the most vulnerable I’ve ever been, on a public stage, despite being terrified to my core? It feels brutal. Just because I didn’t want to process my realizations in real time on social media and spell them out for the world doesn’t mean the journey wasn’t long and thoughtful and exhaustive.
It’s painful to be doing deep work and have it picked apart by clueless strangers. Everyone that matters to me knows what’s true and what isn’t. But even still there’s a part of me that’s a ferocious defender, who wants to correct the record piece by piece. But my better self, with her earned patience, has to sit back and ask, What’s the fucking point? For who? For internet trolls? No, thank you. I’ll spend my precious time doing things I love instead.
I don’t believe it’s my place to discuss details of Ashlyn’s circumstances or her children, but I will say that I am absolutely in awe of her relentless integrity. The way she prioritizes and centers her kids, not only in her life but in the core of her being, is breathtaking to behold. Falling in love with her has sutured some of my own childhood wounds, and made me so much closer to my own mother. Seeing Ashlyn choose to not simply survive, but thrive, for her babies has been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed a friend do. And now I get to love her. How lucky am I?
I sort of hate the notion of having to come out in 2024. But I’m deeply aware that we are having this conversation in a year when we’re seeing the most aggressive attacks on the LGBTQIA+ community in modern history. There were more than 500 anti-LGBTQIA+ bills proposed in state legislatures in 2023, so for that reason I want to give the act of coming out the respect and honor it deserves. I’ve experienced so much safety, respect, and love in the queer community, as an ally all of my life, that, as I came into myself, I already felt it was my home. I think I’ve always known that my sexuality exists on a spectrum. Right now I think the word that best defines it is queer. I can’t say it without smiling, actually. And that feels pretty great.
Would I have liked to make the public part of this journey a choice for myself, and not have it taken from my lips and set ablaze by gossip blogs and bottom-feeder online bots? Of course. I’m very aware, though, as we discuss bullying and harassment and being outed without consent—that I’m incredibly lucky this happened in my adulthood. I really love who I am, at this age and in this moment. I’m so lucky that my parents, having spent time with Ash over the holidays, said, “Well, this finally looks right.” I know it could have gone differently.
We’ve all learned about kids who have taken their own life after being outed or who have been killed simply for being who they are in a place or time that is threatened by their expressed joy. I am so lucky to be here, now. I have real joy. It took me 41 years to get here. And while I marvel at it, I will also make space for people’s pain. But I will not carry anyone’s projected shame. When I take stock of the last few years, I can tell you that I have never operated out of more integrity in my life. I hope that’s clear enough for everyone speculating out there, while being as gentle as I possibly can be.
After the news became public, my mom told me that one of her friends called her and said, “Well, this can’t be true. I mean, your daughter isn’t gay.” My mom felt that it was obvious, from the way her friend emphasized the word, that she meant it judgmentally. And you know what my mom said? “Oh honey, I think she’s pretty gay. And she’s happy.”
I finally feel like I can breathe. I don't think I can explain how profound that is. I feel like I was wearing a weighted vest for who knows how long. I hadn’t realized how heavy it was until I finally just put it down. This might sound crazy—but I think other people in trauma recovery will get it—I am taking deep breaths again. I can feel my legs and feet. I can feel my feet in my shoes right now. It makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time.
It is so, so scary to do the brave thing, to say, “I’m just not happy.” Especially if you’re in a partnership and you have to say it first. But if you do it, you get the chance to be happy. To find your joy. I turned 41 last summer, amid all of this, and I heard the words I was saying to my best friend as they came out of my mouth. “I feel like this is my first birthday,” I told her. This year was my very first birthday.
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kikiyo · 1 year
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the lengths kikyō would go for reiko are immeasurable actually
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wonder-worker · 15 days
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I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the death of her family name.
I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.
Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.
All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:
“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”
Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.
#(the quote is by Richard Woodville in his deathbed will; he was the last of the Woodville brothers to die)#elizabeth woodville#woodvilles#my post#to be clear I am not arguing that the death of an English gentry family name is some kind of giant tragedy (it absolutely the fuck is not)#I'm trying to put it into perspective with regards to what Elizabeth may have felt because we know her family DID feel this way#writing this kinda reminded me of how I am just not fond at all about the way Elizabeth's experiences in 1483-85 are written about#and the way lots so many of the unprecedentedly horrifying aspects are overlooked or treated so casually:#the seizure and murder of two MINOR sons and the illegal execution of another;#her sheer vulnerability in every way compared to all her queenly predecessors; how she was harassed by 'dire threats' for months;#how she had 5 very young daughters with her to look after at the time (Bridget and Katherine were literally 3 and 4 years old);#how unprecedented Richard's treatment of her was: EW was the first queen of england to be officially declared an adulteress;#and the first and ONLY queen to be officially accused of witchcraft#(Joan of Navarre was accused of her treason; she was never explicitly accused of witchcraft on an official level like EW was)#the first crowned queen of england to have her marriage annulled; and the first queen to have her children officially bastardized#what former queens endured through rumors* were turned into horrifying realities for her.#(I'm not trying to downplay the nightmare of that but this was fundamentally on a different level altogether)#nor did Elizabeth get a trial or appeal to the church. like I cannot emphasize this enough: this was not normal for queens#and not normal for depositions. ultimately what Richard did *was* unprecedented#and of course let's not forget that Elizabeth had literally just been unexpectedly widowed like 20 days before everything happened#I really don't feel like any of this is emphasized as much as it should be?#apart from the horrifying death of her sons - but most modern books never call it murder they just write that they 'disappeared'#and emphasize that ACTUALLY we don't know what happened to them (this includes Arlene Okerlund)#rather than allowing her to have that grief (at the very least)#more time is spent dealing with accusations that she was a heartless bitch or inconsistent intriguer for making a deal with Richard instead#it also feels like a waste because there's a lot that can be analyzed about queenship and R3's usurpation if this is ever explored properly#anyway - it's kinda sad that even after Henry won and her daughter became queen EW didn't really get a break#her family kept dying one by one and the Woodville name was extinguished. and she lived to see it#it's kinda heartbreaking - it was such a dramatic rise and such a slow haunting fall#makes for a great story tho
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meguhime · 15 days
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12. laughter for AuRaApril and 12. treasure for VieraprilJust a lil sketchy for today <3 <3 laughing around a table full of delicious food is the real treasure hehe
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textualviolence · 5 months
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well. i DO know how joan of arc felt.
#read souriau's the work to be done and the portion where he talks about how when an individual realises he has been called upon by a work#which he must realise in the time he spends with it he is not alone#and the work is not alone either they are in intimate whispering union with one another#& i have had this many times but this week has been the experience of trying to get the work its proper due realization while someone#(assigned classmate for group project) is actively insulting me & thwarting me at every turn#he doesn't get what im trying to do or why i must do it and as a result thinks i am an insane idiot and hates my guts#insults everything i do and tries to get me to drop the insistence on what i know is the right way to proceed#& it is objectively awful but also the whole time the work itself is there saying i am the one who matters and if you do anything except#ignore him and get on with my realization you are betraying me#and people don't get it they're like why don't you just drop it & let this guy have his way. or alternatively why don't you tell him#to fuck off & drop the project. it's clearly taking a lot out of you you're letting this guy ruin your life etc#and its not the guy its the work. the work demands#and im so oddly at peace with it. he sent me like 9 messages nitpicking every portion of my section & it was so strange#bc i was like yes this hurts my feelings at the same time the work itself is by my side like the angels speaking to joan when she was#being tortured. you say i am of the devil i have none to defend me#but the angels are there by my side and i know i belong to them as they belong to me
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pilotstreets · 1 year
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god. not to be sad online. but im sad online
#um. sorry i went on a really really long rant abt my emotions in the tags. hehehoho im sad!#im just like. there's no way im getting older. i feel like i haven't changed since i was 14 and i feel so disconnected from everything#my birthday is in like 3 weeks but i keep thinking im turning 15 or 16 again and i'll be able to live my teenage years again and#do it right this time or something but no! that's not how that works! obviously!#when my best friend turned 18 she immediately started saying ''im an adult im different im older'' but like#i think about how i'll be 18 soon and im just scared and im going to be holding onto teenage years and#fantasies about them that will never happen and it's just exhausting#i know i sound like such a dramatic teenager but i AM a dramatic teenager!#i had so much shit happen to me that made me lose out on so much of being a teenager and it's like#crushing that i'll never get those years back and other peoples choices ruined my life before i had a chance to have much of one#and i've missed out on so many experiences that all my friends got and i feel such a barrier between me and other people#for that reason and i also feel a disconnect between me and literally everybody i know#and making friends is literally impossible for me anymore and i just feel like i keep losing friends and one day i'll wake up and#i won't have anyone anymore. and i find it hard to talk to people who were my best friends for awhile and i just fall deeper into this#pit of loneliness every day and there's nothing i can do so i just give up. i dunno#im so tired and im just so so lonely and done with. existing#and im also never anybody's first choice which is always annoying but#and it's just.... heartbreaking to think about how my best friend will never choose me when her other best friend is there and#how when we all hang out they're both actually mean to me and there's just nothing i can do other than text my mom and cry#and it makes me doubt how much she cares if she gets that way so easily y'know?#ugh it's all juvenile problems but they just weigh so heavily on me :/#okay enough oversharing online for the night im going to sleep now. then tomorrow i'll just#have the same thoughts and it'll only get worse
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glittertimes · 6 months
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As a 24 year old I’m kind of over drinking culture. The last time I really drank it took me a week to recover from it loll, I’ve been getting really dizzy since a covid infection 2 years ago, and I had a really bad flare-up a month ago after celebrating a friends birthday.
But even before that I drank pretty minimally and I didn’t like how my friends put the responsibility of caring for them on me when they put themselves in harmful situations. I’m always going to be there for my friends, but it takes a toll caring for people and watching them not have that same care for themselves.
And then it’s funny and normalized when people drink all the time.
#this is not meant to shame anyone with addictions or to say that I’m morally better than anyone#a couple of months ago my friend from hs who moved away a couple years e was visiting and she insisted we go to a club lol#it was my first time at a club since I turned 21 the month after Covid lockdown started loll!#and it was fun not caring about the people around me and just being silly and dancing while tipsy#but also the guys were creepy which I expected but it was weirder than I thought it’d be loll#like one guy who would just jump out at you while you were leaving the dance floor and tried to hug you and buy you a drink#he also found me again later and kept trying to get my Instagram loll but it’s that vibe you get around.#cishet men when you know they don’t like you as a person they just want to get any woman (even though I’m non-binary)#and I never feel bad saying no to guys like that loll plus I have a partner but even if I didn’t it still be a no lmao#and then another guy tried to pour his beer into my friend’s drink as I was carrying it back to the table for her from the bar#and it was so weird and gross like why would I want you to do that?!?#anyways my conclusion is being tipsy and silly with your friends can be fun!#but the culture around alcohol enables so many harmful behaviors and makes ppl unsafe! esp women queer and trans ppl and poc!#I also had to walk my partner home one time bc they drank so much and got so depressed they almost tried to hurt themselves#and I couldn’t leave them alone bc I was worried they’d try something again#just haven’t had great experiences and I’m one of the ‘lucky’ ones for not experiencing anything worse!#personal
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perilegs · 11 months
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i think i'm the perfect family gathering babysitter bc i LOVE hearing people just go off about whatever topic and children LOVE doing that
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ohara-n-brown · 5 months
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As a late diagnosed autist I will say one of the most damaging but transformative experiences I've ever had was being misdiagnosed with BPD.
Everyday my heart goes out to people with BPD.
The amount of stigma and silencing they face is astonishing and sickening.
I took DBT for years. Therapists use to turn me away because of my diagnosis.
I would be having full blown autistic meltdowns, crying for help literally - but because I was labeled as BPD ANY time I cried I was treated as manipulative and unstable.
As if the only reason I could be crying was if I was out to trick someone.
95% of the books out there with Borderline in the title are named shit like 'How to get away from a person with Borderline', 'How to stop walking on eggshells (with a person who has BPD)'
I was never allowed to feel true pain or panic or need.
That was 'attention seeking behavior', not me asking for help when a disability was literally inhibiting my ability to process emotions.
There were dozens of times where I had a full meltdown and was either threatened with institutionalization or told I was doing it for attention.
My failing relationships weren't due to a communication issue, or the inability to read social cues. No, because I was labeled borderline, my unstable relationships were my fault. Me beggong nuerotypicals to just be honest and blunt with what they meant was me pestering them for validation.
Borderline patients can't win.
And the funny thing is - I asked my therapist about autism. I told her I thought I was on the spectrum.
BPD is WILDLY misdiagnosed with those with autism and I had many clear signs.
Instead - she told me 'If you were autistic we wouldn't be able to have this conversation'. She made me go through a list of autistic traits made clearly for children, citing how I didn't fit each one.
And then she told me that me identifying with the autism community was the BPD making me search for identity to be accepted - and that I wasn't autistic, just desperate to fit in somewhere.
I didn't get diagnosed for another ten years. For ten years I avoided the autism community - feeling as if I were just a broken person who wanted to steal from people who 'really needed it'.
Because of my providers - I began to doubt my identity MORE, not less.
Ten years of thinking I was borderline and being emotionally neglected and demonized by a system meant to help me.
To this day, I still don't trust neurotypicals. Not fully.
I know I'm not borderline now - but my heart aches for them. Not for the usual stuff. But for the stigma. And the asshole doctors. And the dismissiveness and threatening and the idea of institutionalization hanging over their head.
I love Borderline people. I always will. I'm not Borderline but if you are I love you and I'm sorry.
You're not a bad person. You're not a therapists worst nightmare, you are a human with valid feelings and fears.
Borderline people I'm sorry.
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fairy-angel222 · 16 days
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𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru
— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.
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᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader
᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting
᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked
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Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.
Six years.
Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.
You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.
He’d loved you since he was fifteen.
But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.
Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?
On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.
He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.
Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.
Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.
You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.
Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.
So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.
You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.
Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.
Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.
His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”
Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.
“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.
You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.
Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”
Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”
“Where?”
“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.
“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”
Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Satoru come on-“
“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.
Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.
“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.
“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.
“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.
He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”
He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”
You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“
“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.
His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.
The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.
Toji Fushiguro.
A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.
He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.
“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”
His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?
Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.
As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.
“Satoru, i didn’t-”
He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.
You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”
You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”
“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”
You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”
“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”
Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?
“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”
“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.
“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”
Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.
Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.
“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.
He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.
Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.
It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.
“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.
Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.
You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”
Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.
He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”
Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.
“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”
You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.
You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.
“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”
You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.
Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.
You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.
“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.
Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.
“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.
“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”
His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”
“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.
“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”
Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.
“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.
“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.
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