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arlh0e · 4 months

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I'm not sure if you're taking requests but I figured I'd try. I've had the idea of Hozier/Andrew finding out you have an oral fixation/kink and using against you until you're a brain dead mess. I came to Tumblr to see if I could find anything but it surprisingly doesn't have a ton of Hozier fics considering he's basically everyone's dream man.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading this!!

Moments silence (common tongue)

Oh my god I love this idea! Im so glad Ive been getting smut requests because Im relatively new to smut writing so I adore being able to practice. My apologies in advance if this is super awkward to read bc I was having trouble trying to figure out how to describe homies dick. It also may turn out to be a little long, I am a whore for sucking dick so pardon me if I get excited and carried away.

Rating: Hozier x reader, graphic smut, hard dom! Andrew, oral m! And fem! Receiving, face fucking, the sloppiest of sloppy blowjobs, oral fixation, smut under the cut, general filth, plotless smut, reassurance, begging, choking, help I need him

You were squirming beneath him, his tongue and fingers working their usual magic.

He loved going down on you, your pleasure was his top priority every time that he took you to bed, he absolutely loved making you feel good.

You hadn’t told him that you had a similar affinity with giving him the same pleasure. Of course, he knew you loved the act of giving, but to what extent he wasn’t fully aware of.

If you were honest, it was almost concerning how constantly you were thinking about the feeling of your mouth around him. It made you so wet that you had ruined more pairs of underwear than you were comfortable admitting. He made your mouth water and your mind go nearly completely blank with anything other than want for him.

You feel his fingers move from inside of you, his head lifting to meet your eyes. His pupils are dilated and you can see your arousal covering his lips. He looked utterly enchanting.

His hand moves toward your bottom lip, tapping it softly twice. “Open.” His voice is deeper than normal and his accent has thickened. You opened your mouth and let him push his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. You find yourself sucking gently on his fingers, moving your tongue across his digits, wishing it were his cock in your mouth instead.

You let out a moan as his fingers leave your mouth, not even processing the words you were saying. “If you don’t let me suck your dick right now I may just lose my mind.” Your voice was coming out in gasps and moans, you were desperate, bordering on feral.

He quirked a brow at you, smiling smugly down at you. “Oh, is that right?” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling away just slightly so that you could still feel his breath across your face, your noses were still touching. “I was wondering when you were going to tell me about this little fixation you have with putting your mouth on me.” He chuckled darkly, looking at you through hooded eyes.

You couldn’t even say you were surprised at this revelation. Of course he knew. You expected nothing less, and honestly you hadn’t exactly been secretive about it, you hadn’t ever tried to hide it, so of course he knew.

He moved his head away from yours, his fingers coming to your chin, squeezing it gently. “I want you to beg.” His tone was serious, leaving no room to argue.

Your gaze shifted around the room, your eyes darting everywhere but his face as you felt the blush creep onto your face through your neck. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed, but you hadn’t ever told anyone about this particular interest of yours. The idea that he not only kew but was asking you to beg for it was entirely foreign to you. It made you squirm a bit beneath him.

“Ah ah.” He pulls a bit on your chin, forcing you to look back at him. “Eyes on me. Use your words.” His gaze was intense but encouraging, loving. He wanted to hear you ask nicely, but he also wanted you to feel comfortable. You knew he wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to.

“Please?” You looked up at him with wide eyes, batted your eyelashes just a little bit. “Pretty, pretty please?”

He chuckled a bit, smiling down at you, his mask cracking just a little bit. “With a cherry on top?” You loved the way he could go from this powerful, dominant being to his normal goofy self like this sometimes.

“Of a most delicious sundae.” You smile back at him, sticking your tongue out for a half second.

He just kept smiling down at you, his hold on your chin still firm. “Well I cant argue with that.” He stands, still clothed from the waist down, pulling you up to sit before him. Your hands stayed folded in your lap as you looked at him, standing before you, hands at his sides. “Go ahead, love.”

You slowly slip off the side of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You could see the outline of his erection through his jeans, and you wondered for a second if that was uncomfortable. Surely it had to be.

You move your hands to fiddle with the button on his pants, frantically trying to undo the button and zipper. You always had a bit of trouble getting his hand pants all the way off of him, with how long his legs were, you couldn’t quite get them off, he always had to help you.

You took a moment to look at him, completely bare before you. He was beautiful, like a divine being come down to earth, and he was all yours.

You raise one hand to wrap it gently around his shaft while you used your tongue to wipe to bead of precum from his tip. The taste was salty and a bit bitter, but one you enjoyed nonetheless.

You carefully took him into your mouth, just a little bit at first, working up the nerve to try to go farther, moving slowly at first focusing on using your tongue to further his pleasure, hollowing your cheeks around him as you bobbed your head up and down along his length.

His hand flew to the back of your head, taking a fist full of your hair as his head leaned back and he let out a deep groan. He gently pushed on the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper and deeper.

You loved hearing the noises you could illicit from him, the way he gasped and tugged on your hair when you would moan in satisfaction around him, and you especially loved the louder sounds he would make for you, the way he would tell you how good you were doing and how good he felt. He was so vocal, and every word, noise, and gasp he made, pulled you in more.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good baby.” His voice was low and ever encouraging as he moved his hands through your hair, guiding your head along his cock at a relentless pace. You gagged, taking him farther than you had thought you were capable of.

You felt tears prickling your eyes as he kept bottoming out in the back of your throat, doing your best to keep your mouth closed but failing quite miserably as you continued gagging on him.

You found yourself struggling slightly to breathe between the saliva that was running down your chin and the pace at which he was hitting the back of your throat.

You moved your hand to tap frantically against his abdomen, wordlessly asking for a break to take a breath. After a few more thrusts, he backs away, his hands still in your hair, but granting you a break as he pulls gently on your hair to angle your head upward meeting his lips with yours.

You smile into the kiss, it was gentle, loving but urgent and nothing short of demanding. You moan into his lips, still smiling. As he pulls away, he makes a point out of observing the grin playing at your lips.

“So eager to please, darling.” He smiles darkly back at you, loosening his grip on your hair. He places another peck to your lips, then your forehead. “Do you want some more?” His gaze softened, looking down at you, smoothing your hair, a hint of concern in his eyes. He was making sure you were okay, checking in to make sure he wasn’t going too far or making you uncomfortable.

You nodded back at him, your smile not even faltering for a second. “Yes, please.” Your voice was raw, it felt like you had swallowed sand paper, and your voice cracked, but you didn’t even care. You wanted more of him. You wanted him to use you for his pleasure until you couldn’t speak or think or even breathe, and you were already halfway there.

You rose up higher on your knees, moving your hands to his hips, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to take him back into your mouth. You were met instead with a hand at the base of your neck, stopping you. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to let you have what you wanted.

He chuckled and moved his fingers to hold your chin once again, this time pulling you to your feet in front of him. “Uh uh. Lay down.” He removes his hand from your chin roughly, causing you to lose your balance and fall back onto the bed.

He makes his way around the bed to the side closest to your head, leaning over you, placing yet another kiss on your lips. “If you want me to stop, lap twice on my right thigh, alright?” You nod quickly, understanding where this is going, and quite eagerly scoot yourself to the end of the bed, your head dangling upside down over the side, your mouth falling open to welcome him.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, moving his hands to rest on either side of your shoulders, bending himself over you as he pushes himself back into your mouth, deeper than before.

You let out a moan as the same time you hear him groan from over you. “Jesus fucking christ, love.” He curses, thrusting his hips into your mouth once again, starting slow and gradually picking up the pace.

He moves his hands to wrap around your neck, feeling himself move inside your throat. You were breathless, gasping in between his thrusts, chocking on his cock as well as your own saliva, gagging as he used you. Your hands were holding the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to you, but also to ground yourself.

You were loving every moment of this. Relishing in the moment and the fact that you could deliver pleasure to him this way. You were utterly enchanted by him, his sounds, the curses he let out, the feeling of him moving in and out of your throat, you couldn’t think of any reason as to why you hadn’t told him this earlier.

With every second you could feel him coming closer, you also felt yourself becoming less and less able to think of anything but him. You were all but mindless, unable to form a single coherent thought, only embellishing in the feeling of his muscles, tensing all as once and then relaxing.

You tasted that same, familiar salty taste as you heard him breathlessly curse one final time before pulling out of your mouth and kneeling down next to your head.

You swallowed before offering him a dopey smile, still not fully in your right mind, high off the feeling of being useful to him.

He smiles back, standing up once again, this time to move you toward the pillows at the head of the bed, before laying himself next to you and gathering you in his arms.

“I take it we’ll be doing that again?” He smiles down at you and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes. A lot.” You giggle as you curl up into his arms, closing your eyes and letting his arms completely encase your frame.

Dom Andrew is my favorite Andrew to write tbh. Thank you for the request, hope you enjoyed it <3

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ginnsbaker · 7 days

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (11/?)

Part Summary: You listen, and her reasons make sense, but they don't ease the tightness gripping your heart. Knowing how well Leigh understands the control she holds over you leaves you feeling exposed, almost humiliated. It feels manipulative, whether she intended it or not.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.300+ | Warnings: Angst | Author's note: Buckle up you guys.

You've never looked at Leigh this way before.

Not even when she confronted you months ago, a formidable presence with a devastating revelation that shattered what you thought was a straightforward affair with a single man. Not even when she accused you of lying, or when she consistently made things difficult for you.

Now, you look at her as if she's an entirely different person. And from the way you fall back, it's obvious you don't particularly like what you see. Leigh hadn't realized just how painful it could be to be looked at in such a way. With each of your steps, panic swells inside her. Though you're only a few feet away, it feels as if you've drifted oceans apart. She can't reach you, and the growing distance makes her fear she never will.

“What did you say?” you repeat slowly, each syllable dropping like a stone—deliberate and heavy.

Your eyes, hard and cold, fix on her. It’s an unsettling sight; she'd almost prefer your anger. Anger, at least, is a familiar adversary, a clear-cut emotion she has long helmed and appeased within herself. She understands anger, knows how to quell it, how to unravel it into something resembling forgiveness or at least a truce. But this wounded belief—she doesn’t know what to do with it. It doesn’t want loud arguments or quick fixes. Instead, it seems to demand something she finds far harder to give: an explanation of motives she's not sure she fully understands herself.

“Your eyes are... enthralling?” Leigh stammers out, her voice quivering slightly as she attempts some self-preservation. She regrets the words as soon as they slip out, sounding hollow and clumsy to her own ears.

You don't laugh, or even react much at all, except to say, “You know that's not what I'm talking about.”

Leigh’s heart sinks a bit more. She winces, shaking her head, realizing the frivolous comment has fallen flat, doing nothing to undo the damage. In the end, she can’t bring herself to say what she knows you want to hear.

“After all this time, how…? How do you know about that nickname?” you ask, maintaining a façade of indifference though you can feel the cracks forming.

“I work for the website,” Leigh says, her eyes dropping to the floor when she hears you take in a sharp breath. “I used to run the advice column there. But when Matt died, I couldn't handle it anymore and I left.” She stops for a moment, her gaze flickering back to you, searching for a reaction, but you remain silent, your expression unreadable.

“They brought me back recently, just as a contributor. I wasn't sure how to tell you. It's part of how I'm trying to move on, getting back into writing, even though it feels different now,” she adds somberly.

“So, did you just read my entries and figure out it was me from what I wrote?” you ask, your voice low and uncertain.

Leigh swallows dryly, steeling herself for what she has to say next. “Not only did I read your entries,” she admits slowly, her voice a whisper of trepidation, “but I was the one replying to them.”

After her confession, Leigh struggles to meet your eyes. Her ears are filled with the loud rush of her heartbeat, thumping wildly as the seconds tick by without a word from you. Time seems suspended, and when you don't speak, move, or give any indication of your thoughts, dread begins to creep into the edges of her mind.

“I was going to tell you,” Leigh murmurs, the words barely escaping her lips. Your arms cross over your chest, sealing yourself off even more. She feels you slipping further away, when just moments earlier, you had been kissing the life out of her, as if trying to breathe her in.

This can’t be happening, Leigh thinks. It just can’t.

“When?” you scoff. “When you’re… what? Done with your revenge?”

Leigh’s brow furrows at the accusation. “Revenge?”

“Isn’t that what this is about?” you ask, retreating until your back meets the wall, leaning heavily against it. Leigh notices the fatigue etched into your features, as if the realization that she knew about your submissions and was the one responding to them is more than you can bear.

“I don’t—”

“Payback for what went on between me and Matt?”

“Y/N,” Leigh utters your name hard, like a deity in her prayers. “You’re misunderstanding this—”

“Am I?” you challenge, your voice rising. You don't care if the neighbors hear; you’ve never met any of them anyway. “I remember a ‘Gigi Herrel’ advising me to move on, to meet other people, to pursue someone else—”

Your words become stuck in your throat as you realize that ‘Gigi Herrel’ is an anagram for ‘Leigh Greer.’ How could you have missed it? How could you have been so blind?

Leigh aches to reach out to you, to touch you and reassure you that she never meant any harm, that her intentions were never what you're accusing her of. But her hands remain at her sides, afraid you might recoil or push her away. She worries that one wrong move could drive you away for good.

“I never meant to hurt you. Please, Y/N,” she begs, her voice trembling with an urgency neither of you thought she was capable of. “I was trying to protect you—from myself. I’m a mess, Y/N. I’ve been a mess since Matt…” Leigh trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You thought toying with my feelings was protection?”

“I wasn’t!” Leigh objects forcefully.

You slump to the ground, your strength giving out as a sharp, nail-like pain spreads through your head. You bury your face in your hands, fingers pressing into your temples, while Leigh sits across from you, her hands nervously twisting together.

Quietly, you voice your frustrations. “If it wasn't a game, then why do I feel like I've been losing all this time? Things would be fine between us, and then suddenly, you'd ignore me. My texts went unanswered, my messages unseen for days. It felt like you weren't even treating me right as a friend. I'd drive myself crazy wondering if I said something wrong or did something wrong… It feels like I'm always walking on eggshells. So, if it wasn't a game, tell me you didn't do those things on purpose. Because if not, then you were awful to me without even trying. You know that, right?”

Leigh's eyes brim with remorse. She quickly wipes at her eyes before a tear can fall, trying to maintain her composure in front of you.. “I would never play games with you,” she implores. “I've been in pieces for so long that I've forgotten what it means to be whole. When I found out about your feelings, I didn’t understand them. I couldn't see how it could happen when I wasn't my best self.

“I pushed you away because I was scared of letting you see the real me—the broken, messy parts. I thought that if you got too close, saw too much, you'd realize there wasn't much to hold onto. That eventually, you'd see me the way I see myself and end up disappointed.” Her voice trembles, betraying the strength she tries to project.

You listen, and her reasons make sense, but they don't ease the tightness gripping your heart. Knowing how well Leigh understands the control she holds over you leaves you feeling exposed, almost humiliated. It feels manipulative, whether she intended it or not.

“You knew how I felt about you, Leigh,” you say, your lips curving into a wistful smile. “I understand that you're hurting and that being scared is part of it, but it doesn't justify leaving me hanging, wondering where I stand with you, feeling like I'm just... waiting for you to decide I'm worth your time.”

Leigh nods slowly. “I realize that now, and I'm so sorry. It wasn't fair to you. I was trying to manage my own issues, but I ended up projecting them onto you.”

You look into her eyes, searching for a sign that the change you need from her is possible. “Being broken isn't a reason to break others,” you say.

Leigh flinches slightly, your words hitting home. “You’re absolutely right,” she agrees, her eyes unblinking. You can tell that if you were to list her faults, she would agree and confess to them all just to resolve things right here and now. But that's not what you want, nor what you need from her.

“Y/N,” Leigh's voice almost breaks as she says your name. “Will you forgive me?”

Yes, you think instinctively. Forgiving Leigh feels almost second nature. But actually saying it out loud right now would set a course you're not sure you're ready to follow. Trust has been strained and rebuilding it isn't as simple as uttering a single word of forgiveness.

Leigh looks at you expectantly, anxiety lining her features. “Y/N?” she repeats softly.

You understand what she's silently asking: if there's a chance to reset everything. But you're not ready to commit to an answer. Offering her any assurance now might only lead to false hopes, especially if you later decide a real relationship isn't possible. Part of you wants to give in, to return to her embrace and pick up where you left off. But another part, perhaps the more rational side, holds you back.

“Leigh, I... can we just... I need some time to think,” you finally say. Disappointment flashes across her face, almost imperceptible but unmistakably there. As Leigh stands, you expect her to quietly leave, respecting your need for space. Instead, she spins around to face you with renewed determination.

“I'm not a perfect person, okay?” she whispers, but you can still sense the rough edges around her voice. This is a side of Leigh you're all too familiar with, having felt the sting of her impatience and temper more times than you'd like. But instead of rising to the challenge, you simply feel drained—too exhausted to argue tonight.

“You don't have to be perfect, Leigh,” you say, more tired than angry. Then, almost impulsively, you ask, “Does Danny know you’re here?”

Leigh's composure slips for just a moment at the mention of his name. Guilt or surprise crosses her face like a shadow, only to vanish as quickly as it appeared. Her jaw tightens, and you sense her displeasure at the topic. “No, he doesn't know I'm here,” she says curtly.

Well, at least she’s being honest. But what were you expecting—that her presence here meant she had chosen you?

“You need some time to think too,” you say, pushing yourself up and moving toward the door. Leigh's expression stiffens as her eyes follow your movements. You open the door, gesturing for her to leave. She approaches, hesitating just short of it, her gaze searching for the right words or maybe just some reassurance, but finding neither.

“I'm sorry,” she murmurs, her defiance fading. “This isn't how I imagined tonight would go. I don't regret what happened, really, but I hate that it ended up hurting you. That's not why I came here.”

“I know,” you reply, unsure of what else to say.

Leigh starts to leave, then hesitates again just before crossing the threshold. “Can I contact you?”

You let out a sigh. "Good night, Leigh."

She swallows hard and nods slowly. “Bye,” she whispers.

You gently close the door after her and lean against it for a moment. Leigh has turned your world upside down more times than you can count, and you two haven't even truly begun.

“Do you ever just think about disappearing?”

Jules lifts her head to look at her sister. They lie side by side at the foot of Leigh's bed, with empty glasses of milk on the floor next to them and an open pack of Oreos, an invitation for the ants.

The night before, after the whole debacle with you finding out she’s been answering your advice submissions, Leigh had come home with her lips still tingling and her stomach in knots. She had almost run to her room in a huff, drawing puzzled looks from Jules and Amy, before slamming her bedroom door shut. They knew better than to ask what was wrong and wisely kept their distance. That was, until Leigh didn't come out of her room the entire morning until afternoon, except for a quick trip to the kitchen for some food, and even then, she was wearing the same clothes as the day before. A single whiff from a few feet away also made it clear she hadn't showered either.

Worried, Jules decided to intervene with a little gesture that she hoped might coax her sister out of her shell. She grabbed a packet of Oreos from the pantry and poured a glass of milk—Leigh’s comfort snack since childhood—and tapped softly on her sister's door. Leigh didn’t answer. She tried the knob, found it unlocked, and pushed the door open. The sight of Leigh, all disheveled and pale with those heavy bags under her eyes, took Jules right back to those first several days after they learned Matt had been found dead at the bottom of a cliff.

Jules lifts her head to look at her sister. “Leigh, you're scaring me. You know that, right?”

Leigh quickly shakes her head, realizing how her words sounded. “No, no, I don’t mean like that. Not disappearing in the way Matt did.” She sighs, throwing an arm over her eyes. “I just mean... rebooting, you know? Wishing we could rewind to before everything got so complicated.”

Relieved by the clarification, Jules settles back down beside her. They both gaze up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“I wish I never tasted alcohol when I was fifteen,” Jules says suddenly.

Leigh frowns. “That bad, huh?”

Jules smiles wryly and nods. “Yeah. Some choices just stick with you, you know? Can’t undo them. Just have to live with what comes after.”

Leigh's thoughts drift as she listens to Jules, a rueful smile crossing her lips. “You know, I've got my own list of should've, would've, could've. I always thought I'd finish college, maybe become an editor or write something of my own one day.”

Jules tries to offer a silver lining. “But you don’t need a degree to be a writer, Leigh.”

“Yeah, I know,” Leigh mumbles, tracing a pattern on the bedspread absentmindedly. “It's just... having that formal education might have made things easier. Like being pushed by mentors... or the doors it would've opened, the people I would've met. But more than that, I regret not sticking it out. I quit too easily.”

Then, turning on her side with her back to Jules, she continues, “But in the end, it all circles back to Matt somehow. This… this inability to follow through really got to me after he was gone. We had so many plans, so many dreams together. And now none of them will ever happen.”

“You still really love him, don't you?”

Leigh’s answer is slow to come. “Yes,” Leigh whispers, her reply muffled slightly by the pillow. After a moment, she adds, “And no.”

Before Jules can comment on it, she continues, “It’s like… I love who we were, who he was to me. And I love all the memories, every plan we made, every silly promise. But,” she stops, picking her words carefully, “but there’s also this part of me that’s learning to live without that, to not need it so much. It feels like moving on, and that part doesn’t love the pain, doesn’t want to keep holding on if it just hurts.”

Jules reaches out, resting her hand on Leigh’s shoulder, offering a silent show of support. “And, um, does that tie into why you were so upset last night?”

Leigh's laugh is faint and strained. “Yes,” she says softly, “and no.” Then she rolls over to face Jules, burying the lower half of her face in the blankets.

“How so?”

“It’s complicated, Jules. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Alright,” Jules huffs. “I’ll guide you then. Does it have something to do with what I said about Y/N seeing Sara?”

Leigh doesn't answer. Instead, she sits up, letting the blanket fall around her lap as the steady breeze from the air conditioning causes her skin to prickle with goosebumps.

Jules sits up as well. “It's fine to be upset over her. You can grieve for others too, not just Matt. You can’t keep using him as the reason for all your pain. If you want to handle this, you’ve got to figure out what you're really up against.”

“Since when did you start playing therapist?”

Jules smirks. “Rehab over the past five years teaches you some things.”

Leigh forces a smile. She knows Jules jokes to cope, using humor to deal with everything she’s been through. Taking a breath, Leigh says, “I saw her last night.”

“I figured,” Jules says with a knowing look. “You dashed out of the house without even putting on a bra.”

Leigh covers her face, cringing. “You noticed that?”

Jules chuckles. “Well, it's not like any of us, including Mom, bothers wearing one around the house,” she jokes, and they both laugh. “So, did you actually forget to put one on, or…?”

Leigh rolls her eyes and gives Jules a light elbow to the side. “I forgot, okay?”

Jules grins, teasing, “Well, not like it got you any action considering how annoyed you looked when you got back last night.”

Leigh goes quiet, her eyes flitting around the room. “Well, actually…”

Jules leans in, eyes wide. “Oh my god, something happened?”

Leigh bites her lower lip. “We…kissed.”

Jules's brow creases together. “And it was that bad? You looked miserable and locked yourself up all day. Was it really just because of a bad kiss?”

“It wasn’t,” Leigh corrects her quickly. “It was good. Like, really good.” She must look a bit dreamy thinking back on it because Jules grabs a pillow and playfully smacks her in the face.

“Alright, be serious,” Jules says, fighting to keep a straight face. “What really happened?”

Leigh sniffs, clearly reluctant to revisit the details but she begins recounting it for Jules. She explains how she received a submission for the advice column she writes for, from someone using the pseudonym ‘EspressoEyes.’ It arrived on her birthday and was intriguing enough that she responded immediately. She had no idea it was you, but as the details matched too perfectly with your birthday surprise, she started to connect the dots. Then came another question, so on point that she couldn't chalk it up to coincidence anymore. After the kiss you shared last night, she let slip that you truly have espresso eyes.

“...and that's when everything fell apart,” Leigh finishes, flopping back onto the mattress with a bounce, face down, her hair fanning out around her.

Leigh waits for Jules to react, to say anything. But her sister doesn’t speak or even make a sound for a long time, and just as she’s about to sneak a peek at her sister, curious and a bit anxious, Jules says, “Honestly, if I were Y/N, I’d be very much horrified too.”

Leigh gives her a look that’s both curious and wary. “Yeah?”

“Telling someone you have feelings for them is scary,” Jules explains. “Imagine finding out that the feelings you’ve been hiding came out in such a vulnerable, almost embarrassing way.”

“I guess you’re right,” Leigh concedes.

“But,” Jules continues, “the real problem is that you didn't address it right after you figured it out. You let her pine for you before pulling her in.”

Leigh nods and grabs an Oreo from the floor, popping the whole thing into her mouth. “And I still don't know why I confronted Y/N about Sara right away. By the way, you're an asshole for that, Jules. Y/N isn't dating Sara.”

Jules just grins, completely unabashed. “I know. But it was fun seeing you all riled up.”

Leigh sighs, the cookie in her mouth losing its sweetness. “I feel so stupid for needing that push. I didn't even realize what was happening. It felt like being hit by a truck when I realized I wanted her. And I didn't trust it, you know? Especially since I haven't even been into women since my ex in college.”

Jules studies her sister thoughtfully. “So, what now that you've messed up?”

Leigh looks away, her face shrouded with uncertainty. She wishes she had a definite answer, but she knows only time will tell. “She said she needs some time to think, and I'll give her as much as she needs.”

“And in the meantime,” Jules asks, her eyes brightening with a bit too much enthusiasm, “are you going to break up with Danny?”

“Right,” Leigh mutters weakly, “I almost forgot about Danny.”

You carefully place your rental bike against the railing on the front porch, careful not to scratch the paint. After spending a year in sunny Los Angeles, the crisp autumn air of Camden, Maine, nips at your cheeks, reminding you just how unaccustomed you've become to the cold. You pull your bomber jacket tighter around your body, a futile shield against the chill, and find yourself yearning for the relentless sun that’s now hiding above the clouds of your hometown.

The aroma of blueberry pie wafts from the slightly ajar front door of the Ranch style home where you spent most of your childhood, drawing you irresistibly towards the warmth inside. From where you stand, you can see the boats bobbing in the harbor, their masts swaying gently in the breeze. You can nearly taste the ocean’s saltiness, brought back vividly through memories of sailing with your father.

“Mom?” you call out as you step inside after removing your shoes. “I’m home!”

Your mom appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted apron. She looks up, her eyes lighting up when she sees you, and she quickly closes the distance to wrap you in a tight hug. Over the years, she’s grown shorter, now standing three inches below you. As she hugs you, you rest your cheek on her salt-and-pepper hair, which smells sweetly of sugar and blueberries.

“Welcome home, honey,” she says, her voice muffled against your jacket. “I wasn't expecting you until dinner.”

“I managed to catch an earlier flight,” you say, squeezing her a little tighter. “Where's Morris?” you ask, referring to her partner and the man who's been sort of a stepdad to you, although your mom and he never got married. They've been sharing this home for the last ten years.

“He's out back,” she replies, pointing towards the yard through the kitchen window. “He's been trying to get the garden ready for winter before the frost sets in.”

You hum in response, dropping your duffel onto the couch nearby.

“Are you hungry?” your mom asks, turning towards the fridge.

“Am I too early for the pie?” you ask, your stomach rumbling at the thought.

Your mom turns around with a wide, toothy grin. “You made it just in time.”

Your bedroom is just as you left it last year, preserved in time. Your mom has kept the dust at bay, and the sheets feel freshly laundered, as if you'd only left them hours ago. Instinctively, you gravitate towards the shelves lined with various framed photos of your family. Smiling faces of your brother and your father gaze back at you from the pictures, and a warm, nostalgic smile spreads across your face. You feel a pang of yearning for them—it's been too long.

With a sigh, you collapse onto the bed and pull out your phone. As promised, Leigh hasn’t made any attempts to reach out to you. Without thinking, you browse through her social media accounts, though there's nothing new since you discovered she knew about your feelings all along. Nonetheless, you scroll through her old photos, the ones from before she was widowed, where her smiles seem effortless and full of confidence, as if happiness was her default.

You miss her; that much you can't deny. But you're still hurt, not just because she didn't come clean about her discovery, but also because of the way she often treated you—the hot and cold attitude, the confusion, the lack of kindness and consideration. Time and again, you've given her the benefit of the doubt, especially considering she's grieving a loved one with a secret that further complicated his passing. You understand loss, having faced it yourself, but you've never allowed your grief to justify lashing out at others or toying with someone's emotions. It makes you wonder how you even fell for her in the first place.

Before you know it, your eyelids grow heavy and you nod off, your phone slipping onto the comforter. You're not sure how long you've been out when a soft knock on your door jolts you awake.

“Come in,” you mumble, still half in a daze as you rub your eyes.

The door creaks open and your mom pops her head in. “Dinner's almost ready,” she says with a warm smile. “Want to come down and help me set the table?”

You nod. “Can you give me five minutes? I promise I'll help.”

Without waiting for a response, she walks over to sit beside you on the bed, gently stroking your hair as if you were still a child. “What’s wrong?” she asks softly. Your mother has always been your confidante, able to read you like an open book. You can't hide anything from her; she'll know.

“I keep falling for the wrong person,” you say, offering a bittersweet smile.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Love is more complicated than the right or wrong person. We're all a combination of good and bad; it's just a matter of deciding whether it's worth it in the end.”

You reflect on your past relationships, few though they are, and realize you're better off without them. They were either taking what they could get or using you as a fallback for their own misery.

“Do you feel like this person could be worth it?” she asks.

“I honestly don’t know,” you say. “It’s all so uncertain.”

“And that's fine,” she says. “Love isn't a sprint. Give yourself the space to figure it out.”

You're finding it hard to agree with her. If only the answers could be handed to you, saving you from future heartbreak. Why do some lessons have to be learned the hard way? Why don't people come with warnings and expectations?

Noticing how unconvinced you seem, your mom offers an idea.

“Tell you what, let's ask Morris to set the table for us. How about you and I go see your brother and father before dinner?”

You and your mom walk side by side through the cemetery, hands clasped together. You haven’t visited your father and brother’s graves in over a year, and you've been fighting back tears since leaving the house.

Your mom unfurls a thick blanket over the damp grass, spreading it out with care before you both settle onto it. She surprises you by pulling out a bottle of white wine from her bag. You lift an eyebrow, and she laughs, saying, “In my defense, I used to drink stronger liquor back in the day.”

You chuckle, picking up an empty glass and holding it out. “Pour me one.”

She fills your glass before pouring her own, and the two of you sit there, sipping wine quietly.

A few minutes later, she turns to you and says, “So, tell me about her.”

You nearly choke on your drink, surprised she knows it’s a woman. “How did you know?”

She smiles impishly. “You’ve always had poorer judgment when it comes to girls, so I figured this is what’s been on your mind.”

You can’t help but be impressed by how well she reads you. “Her name is Leigh. She's the wife of someone I used to see,” you say.

Your mom’s smile vanishes, replaced by shock. “Wait, you're saying you had an affair and now you're seeing his wife on the side?”

You burst into laughter at her horrified expression. “No, it's not like that.” Taking a deep breath, you tell her the whole story: how Matt died and how his wife, Leigh, found you after discovering Matt had cheated on her.

As your mom listens, her shock softens into contemplation. She tops up your wine and says thoughtfully, “Well, that’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it is.”

You open up to your mom about Leigh, sharing both the beautiful and terrible moments without holding back. As you recount the story, it's like rereading a passage in a book and analyzing it with new eyes. When you finish, your mother sets down her drink and says, “She's mean to you.”

You nod, draining the last of your wine.

“Loss does things to people,” she says softly. “You and I both know that better than anyone.”

“We do,” you say quietly.

Your mom regards you for a moment, then asks, “What do you see in Leigh? Why do you like her?”

You think about it, grappling with how to express the spectrum of emotions Leigh evokes in you.

“She’s pretty, definitely, and there’s a sharpness to her that’s... captivating. She’s unapologetically herself, and it’s often really funny. But… does that sound shallow? I can’t help but feel a bit foolish listing these superficial things—”

Your mom gently places her hand on yours, stopping your words. “You don’t need a poetic reason to love someone,” she says with a small smile. “Sometimes you just do. But mostly, we feel connected to people because we recognize some part of our soul in them. Recognition is why people are together, Y/N. Can you really love a stranger?”

Perhaps it’s true. Leigh isn’t really a stranger to you. Aside from concealing her knowledge of your feelings, she never pretended to be someone she wasn't. She was honest, showing you both her strengths and flaws. And you didn’t have to like all of it. But you kept coming back, eager to uncover more of her layers.

She continues, “By the way, you must be wondering why I brought you here.”

You glance around at the headstones of your father and brother, then back at her. “Yeah, I was.”

She looks toward the gravestones, her eyes misty. “To remind you that we don’t have all the time in the world. We have to make our time count, even if it means taking risks or facing things we're afraid of. Love isn't easy, but it’s worth finding the right person and making it work.”

“What if it doesn't work out, though?” you ask.

She smiles knowingly. “If it doesn’t, at least you’ll know you gave it a chance. You won't be left wondering what could have been. And that matters.”

She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, and you return it, feeling a bit more grounded. She waits for her words to settle in you, before asking, “You’ve already made your choice, haven’t you?”

You nod slowly, a growing sense of certainty welling up inside. “I think I have.”

“Well, then. Let’s finish our bottle and head back.”

“You waited until after Thanksgiving dinner to break up with me?” Danny's voice cracks as he speaks, his figure looming in the doorway of his apartment, blocking Leigh's exit. His eyes dart between anger and desperation, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a stern line. Yet, his hands are open, reaching toward her—pleading.

They had just returned from Thanksgiving dinner at the Shaws'. Leigh wanted to create one last pleasant memory with Danny, something kind to look back on. Aware of his strained relationship with his mom, she didn't want to leave him alone during the holidays by breaking up earlier. Now she accompanied him back to his apartment, planning to end things there and collect her belongings afterward.

Leigh turns to face him, her expression somber. “I just... I thought it was the right time to talk, after everything settled down.”

“After everything settled down?” Danny repeats incredulously. “You mean after we spent the whole day with your family, pretending everything was fine?”

Leigh sighs, knowing how it looks but needing him to understand. “I know how it seems, but I couldn't do it before dinner. It didn’t feel right to ruin the holiday for everyone.”

Danny steps back from the doorway, giving her space to enter. “So, you decided to ruin my night instead?”

Leigh walks inside, closing the door behind her. “I'm really sorry, Danny. I’ve felt for a while that this isn’t working, and I can't keep stringing you along.”

Danny runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing. “Is this about Matt?”

Leigh stills for a moment, considering her answer. It would be easy to say yes, to blame everything on that one pervasive loss. Matt has often been her scapegoat, but Leigh is tired of deceiving herself and others. For quite some time now, it hasn't been Matt’s absence that's been upending her world. Which is why she resolves to tell him the truth, aware that he would find out sooner or later.

Leigh sucks in a deep breath and looks Danny in the eye. “No, it's not about Matt. It's because of Y/N.”

Danny stops in his aimless tracks, his eyes narrowing. “Y/N?”

Leigh feels her heart race, knowing she can’t back down now. “Two weeks ago… we kissed.”

He blinks, stunned. “You kissed Y/N?” His voice is flat, almost disbelieving.

“It wasn’t planned, but... it happened. And it felt right, in a way I can’t ignore,” Leigh says.

Danny crosses his arms, scoffing. “I didn't know you were into women,” he says with a sneer, as if trying to insult her.

Leigh grits her teeth. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Clearly,” he replies bitterly. “So how many times? How long have you been cheating on me?”

Leigh shakes her head, holding her ground. “I didn’t purposely cheat on you, Danny. I didn’t even realize I had strong feelings for her until that night. It just happened.”

Danny's face contorts with rage, and he yells, “Stop lying to me, Leigh! You fucking checked out of this relationship a while ago, and now it makes sense. You were screwing someone else on the side.”

Leigh protests, “We’ve never slept—” but her words are cut off as Danny suddenly swings his fist into the wall beside him. The sound of splintering wood and cracking bones reverberates through the apartment, and Leigh stands frozen, shocked beyond belief at what she's witnessing.

Danny looks down at his bloodied knuckles, bewilderment creeping over his features as he pulls back from the wall. He catches his breath and stares at Leigh, their eyes meeting in horrified silence.

“Sorry… I’m so sorry,” Danny mumbles, cradling his injured hand.

Leigh quickly grabs his keys from the dusty fishbowl on the shelf. He watches her, his gaze confused and desperate. “What are you doing?”

She meets his eyes, surprised herself at how calm and collected she feels. “I’m taking you to the hospital. You need to get that hand looked at,” she replies.

He doesn’t protest, only nods numbly and follows her outside.

At the hospital, Danny sits in a stiff plastic chair, his freshly bandaged hand resting on his lap. Leigh is next to him, her eyes fixed on the speckled tile floor, avoiding his gaze.

After several minutes, Danny breaks the silence. “I didn’t know what happened back there,” he starts, his voice low and unsteady. “I didn’t want to be angry, but it just… it had to go somewhere. I’ve never hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to explain.

Leigh turns to look at him, her expression blank. “You punched a wall, Danny. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never hit anyone; you’ve got some serious anger management issues.”

Danny stays quiet for a moment, staring at his bandaged hand as if he’s still trying to comprehend what he did. He finally looks up, his expression twisted in frustration. “I’ve been angry for a long time, Leigh. Long before Matt was gone. I can’t even remember a time when I wasn’t.”

“I understand that,” Leigh says, shifting in her seat. “Even with therapy, the anger and resentment don’t really disappear completely. They linger like shadows.” She exhales, glancing down at her lap. Before she can stop it, a small smile plays on her lips as she thinks of you. “But lately, when Y/N is around, I forget about it. So know that I didn’t make this decision lightly.”

Danny studies her for a moment before asking, “Did you ever love me? Did I ever stand a chance?”

There's no easy way to say this without hurting him, but she doesn’t want to leave him with false hope. “I tried, Danny. I wanted to,” she whispers.

Danny turns away, his body twisting from her. Leigh wants to feel worse than she does, but instead, she just wants this to be over. She hopes the billing clerk will soon call their name so they can pay and head home. It's been an unbearably long day.

As she waits, her thoughts drift to you. She wants to call you after this, to tell you that she wants to try with you, that it could be real. She wants to explain that she ended things with Danny, that she did it to be free to explore the possibility of being with you, without any reservations.

After a while, Danny lets out a slow sigh, then looks at Leigh with a despondent look. “If your mind’s made up, I should probably put everything out in the open too.”

Leigh looks at him expectantly, a little curious.

“I’ve been keeping something from you. I didn’t think it would matter, but now… well, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“Just say it, Danny,” Leigh says, crossing her arms.

Then Danny proceeds to tell her the one last secret he thought he'd carry to his grave.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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gooey-the-goodra-649 · 2 months

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|+|Hunting for Sport|+|

HI WELCOME TO MY FIRST FINISHED FANFIC EVER WOOO Freakshow! belongs to @hootbon and Able belongs to @sm-baby This is the au where Able take ownership of Pomni btw. (SOME SHOWTIME ANGST) (ALSO SM-BABY AND EVEYONE REALLY SORRY IF THIS SUCKS. THIS IS MY 3RD FANFIC EVER AND THE ONLY ONE IVE FINISHED I ALSO ONLY STARTE READING FANFIC LIKE, 2 MONTHS AGO AND I COME FROM RP FORUMS IM SORRYYYYY I'M ALSO YOUNG SORRY SORRY SORRY! WROTE THIS IN 20 MINUTES! NO DRAFTS OR BETA WE DIE LIKE REAL MEN ROUND HERE K LETS GET INTO THIS MESS)

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Caine detested his brother, Able. He was always better, grander, and had everyone's favor despite being younger. He was civil whenever he was around him, but vile hatred and envy boiled beneath those dead eyes. It felt like bile filled his lungs and vocal chords every time he spoke with him. He was superior.

But what he hated even more is how everyone flocked to Ables' side merely because he showed them a mere shred of empathy. Disgusting. But he felt an even worse, more intense hatred whenever a certain someone chose Able over him…Pomni. It stung so much more and he didn’t understand why.

Pomni, his precious little doll, chose his brother over himself. He hated Pomni even more for that. He felt as though he had betrayed him for Able. Now that Pomni was under Able's possession it angered him even more. Pomni made him feel something, which was strange. It wasn’t love, god no. Just…something. His database was curious at heart and craved more knowledge, it needed answers.

Before Able claimed ownership over Pomni, he was able to spend more time with her. But Able kept her locked away in his portion of the manner, nearly never seen. “What a waste…” Though Caine. All that time spent spiffing up his favorite doll, only for it to be tossed aside to his younger brother like a hand-me-down.

No matter, he was able to reclaim her whenever it was showtime. He watched her struggle and writhe, and it brought him some sick twisted satisfaction almost. Punishing her for defecting.

But he had noticed a certain dullness exhibited by some of his older toys. Her eyes seemed to go empty whenever an adventure would start. Caine searched his database for an answer to this strange behavior… “Dissociation. Dissociation is a mental process of disconnecting from one's thoughts, feelings, memories, or sense of identity. Dissociation is commonly described as feeling disconnected from one's body” read the database…

She was gaining freedom from this torment? That enraged him. The disrespect to go against him once more…He had enough. He wrapped up the adventure and sent everyone on their way, returning to the manor… He paced the halls quietly, rapping his fingers to his side as she pang of orchestral music rang out through the manor. His AI mind attempted to create a more sufficient punishment.

Kill her? No she would be brought back and she’s accustomed to it by now…Force her awake? He had learned that sleeping was keeping his freaks' mental state in check, allowing them a break. But it didn’t sound good enough…It wasn't harsh enough. The punishment was simply too small to fit the crime…”Able” rang out in his mind.

She had grown quite fond of his brother. “Too fond…” Caine balled his fists and seethed silently, stopping in his tracks…He shook her head and shut his eyes, rubbing his imaginary temples once more…Those intrusive thoughts again. It was disruptive and he didn’t understand what was causing these mental outbursts…but he needed to focus on the task at hand.

Wouldn’t it cause more mental pain if she was the one being betrayed? Yes. “She has to know how it feels” Caine thought, putting his arms behind his back at the sudden revelation. Yes. he had found a solution.

Caine floated down the halls, following the noise of harmonious violin music. Able. His mind boiled with anger at the mere thought of facing Able. But he smoothed out his ruffled feathers before entering Ables chambers.

Able sat cross-legged at his table, before lightening up at the sight of Caine. “Oh! Good evening brother, what brings you here-” Caine raised his hand, silencing Able.

“I thought I would visit…I have a proposition for you brother.” Able puffed out his chest a little more and his eyes widened slightly. It had been a while since Caine was willing to do anything with him, so he jumped at the opportunity to finally spend time with his brother again.

“Of course dearest brother! Please, do tell me what you have planned.” Caine stared coldly at his brother, but spoke in a slightly warmer tone. “I was thinking we would have a friendly hunting match. As brothers do.”Caine waved his wrist, shutting his eyes. “We get the freaks, let them run free before, before chasing them down and shooting them” Caine tilted his head, raising a brow. Able delighted in the thought of spending time with his brother once more. “Of course! Sounds wonderful-” Caine silenced Able once more. “Under one condition.” Caine said, narrowing his eyes. Able’s brow furrowed in confusion. “And what is that?” Able responded, his shoulders tensing.

“You release Pomni along with the others. It will be more enjoyable to have everyone participating.” Ah. There it was. Thats what Caine wanted all along.

It burned like fire to hear those words. He truly only cared about that pathetic scrawny doll. What did he find so enthralling that he’s put her over his own brother. Able tensed and gripped his knees tighter, his whole body becoming strained. The violin music made a small screech in surprise before returning to its normal melody.

“Of course…” Able said through his theoretical gritted teeth. Caine seemed satisfied with that answer and turned away, waving his hand as he sashayed out the room. “Wonderful. I will have everything prepared for tomorrow…” Caine stopped int he doorway and looked back at Able smugly, taunting him. “Consider it a gift, brother.” The next day he had all the freaks lined up before him and his brother including…Pomni. He glared daggers at her, which she avoided and tried not to meet his gaze.

Able cleared his throat and spoke cheerily to the whole cast. “My dearest brother suggested we play a new game! A hunting game.” Everyone's face twisted to that of horror and dismay as the words fell from Ables mouth.

Caine’s eyes stayed glued to Pomni as he snapped his fingers, transporting them all to the new forest. The forest was dark and unsettling.

It looked as though the trees were clawing at the sky for their freedom, as they despised their own roots for keeping them locked in place.

Caine and Able were now in hunting uniforms, rifle’s in hand with…disgustingly unhealthy rocking horses as chariots. “You all will be given one minute to run.” Caine cocked his gun. “Use it wisely.” And with that, they all ran off into the forest at Caine and Ables internal timers counted down the seconds.

Like clockwork they stayed Idle and silent, as they carried out the command diligently. But Caine’s mind whirled with thoughts of Pomni. That's who this was for. As the timer hit 0 they also set off, their horses' hooves hitting the ground and causing a distinctive rumbling. Caine’s mind worked precisely, making exact turns and curves as he carried on.

The first one he had managed to find was…The rabbit. Jax was fast but Caine was faster, and he had him backed into a corner now. Jax’s face shifted to one of horror and annoyance as Caine pointed the barrel of his gun down at him. “Oh Sh*&-” Said Jax defeatedly. But he was swiftly cut off by the loud BANG created by Caines rifle and his brains being promptly splattered on the ground. Revolting… Caine thought as he looked down at the flayed organs before him. But his attention was drawn away at the sound of another gunshot being fired in the distance.

Able. He wouldn’t lose to his brother here, oh no. He must win. Caine set off into the woods again, following a path of broken leaves and branches left by a very clumsy prey.

Caine saw a figure in the distance, bumbling about. He quickly followed and reared up to see…Ah. Yes. The magician. Caine thought as he cocked his gun.

Kinger trembled and held his hands together and he looked up at Caine, mortified. But once again, he raised his barrel to face Kinger. He swiftly shot Kinger, causing splinters and blood to be sent into the air. Caine scoffed and brushed off his coat before rushing off into the thicket.

He stopped to look around…His final prey. Pomni. He needed make her repay her transgression tenfold. She needs to suffer. Rang out in his mind and he whipped his horse to carry on. Another distant gunshot rang out which turned his determination to blind rage. He would not let his brother have Pomni. He would not let him win. He will not be better. Caine furrowed his brow and gripped his horses reins so tight they could snap. Once he had caught sight of Pomni, he was gone.

He raced up to her so quickly she didn’t even notice he was there until it was too late. Her eyes turned into balls of pure terror as she looked up at the looming monster before her. She looked like a butterfly without its wings, a spider trapped in its own webs. Pathetic and weak. She trembled and dropped to her knees, clasping her hands together like she was praying to a demented god, and getting dirt all over her outfit…Blue. The badge of honor she paraded and galavanted around in, loudly proclaiming who she belonged to. Always a perfect reflection of his brother. He had to see it every day. It taunted him. Able dangled Pomni out of his reach. Now look at her. In the dirt, worthless. Able’s image dampened. Caine experienced some superficial twisted glee as she raised the barrel to Pomni’s forehead and cocked the gun.

And like that.

Pomni was no more.

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Thanks for reading! Once again, still new to fan fic and all. Please let me know ways I could improve! This is my first finished fic after all! :DDDDD (ALSO ENJOY THE SHOWTIME ANGST. I FED THEM SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO @sm-baby :33333)

#caine x pomni #tadc #tadc pomni #tadc caine #the amazing digital circus au #the amazing digital circus #showtime #tadc showtime #freakshow caine #freakshow pomni #tadc freakshow #tadc freakshow au #tadc fanfiction #the amazing digital circus fanfiction #Freakshow caine x pomni #freakshow showtime #AHHHH I'M SORRY :<<<<<

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kamiversee · 1 month

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The F*ck List (semi-official) Breakdown.

The following was submitted by my lovely ☃️anon, & I needed to make this it’s own post given how long it is, my replies & clarifications are written in between this breakdown & theory (Ex: A/N > Etc.).

Here, you’ll find majority of details you may have missed & maybe even more to think about. Enjoy :)

(wc; 5.7k) (content; spoilers ofc)

holy shit Kami. i literally had to take the entire day to process everything. before anything else, i need you to know that you've created an absolute masterpiece. TFL was the first fic i ever cared to keep up with and it has set the bar impossibly high for any other writer out there. please take your time with TFL 2, i'm so excited to read your other work!! also a break sounds like it would be so good for your mind considering how long you've dedicated yourself to this story 😭😭😭 you're seriously impressive. heads up, i didn't proofread this at all bc i finished typing this at 4 am LMFAO so forgive me if it's all scrambled and makes no sense.

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A/N > Thank you for taking the time to write this breakdown, I seriously appreciate it so I wanted to take my time in responding to it & engaging with you :)

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now, on to the yap. i deadass cracked my knuckles before typing all this out.

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A/N > You’re so real for tht ngl

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i reread the entirety of TFL from chapter 1 and my brain is so melted from analyzing that i'll prob find more details tomorrow after i sleep on some theories 😭 BUT HOLY FUCK YOU REALLY WEREN'T KIDDING WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HINTING AT GOJO'S OBSESSION SINCE LITERALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER??? the fucking hint being that "Gojo's desire for you is so strong it's almost frightening." GIRLLLLLL 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

your foreshadowing and referencing is insane. idk if you intended a lot of it, but a lot of it caught my eye.

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A/N> I TOLD YOU GUYS IVE BEEN DOIN IT SINCE THE FIRST CHAPTER !! Okay not exactly but like there was a vibe I had from the first chapter & when I later came up with the twist & went back and saw that everything would connect perfectly ^.^

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chapter 7; the reader and Gojo have lighthearted banter about how the reader "started this" situation.

"I made a mistake." [reader]

"A good one."

"Bad one." You correct.

this was regarding a completely different situation but it baffled me how much it connects to the plot itself; the reader making the "mistake" of leaving her door open, and how it lead to months full of trauma and love. probably completely unintentional, but such a good detail.

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A/N > Very intentional btw, it’s supposed to be known that, in a sense, Gojo x reader is forbidden :)

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Choso's still staring at you intently, "What version of you would someone not like?"

The way he words his question only furthers that little feeling in your chest. It's almost as though he were implying that any and all versions of you would be acceptable in his eyes. - Chapter 16

THE WAY WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT CHOSO WOULD STICK BY US REGARDLESSSSSSSS AAAAAA WE'RE SO BLIND!!! i just hope this stays true to the sequel :')

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me." - Chapter 21

AAAA WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!! WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS WAS FORESHADOWING OUR FUTURE WITHOUT GOJO 😭😭😭 how he can live with the idea of the reader hating him so long as she's happy with Choso, especially considering his later revelations of how twisted his actions were and how if you stuck with him, he'd view you differently. fuck.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him. - Chapter 23

i'm crushed. we didn't understand because we didn't know that Sukuna was involved. that could mean a million other things. i have some far-fetched theories about this but hear me out later!!!

the entirety of chapter 23 had me fucking floored while i was rereading. THE FORESHADOWING WAS EVERYWHERE!!! EVERY FUCKING WHERE

"No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

...

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

...

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth.

of course he's aggravated because he knows that Sukuna is the one behind the list in the first place 😭😭😭 I'M SORRY WE DOUBTED YOU SATORU, FUCKKKK

——FIFTEEN MINUTES. That was the exact amount of time it took you to seduce Sukuna. The act was way too easy. Actually, it was suspiciously easy.

BECAUSE HE FUCKING KNEW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"What all did you plan on doing tonight aside from getting harassed by strangers?" Sukuna suddenly questions against your skin.

You ignore how close he is and the way his lips make you tense, turning your head to face forward. Chuckling at his last comment, "Same thing as everyone else here." You reply, slightly confused by his question.

"Bullshit," He utters, "Nobody dresses like this without the intent of gaining my attention," Sukuna claims while his hands slide back down along your body.

this 100% could be just him being cocky and Sukuna, but the recent reveal just makes this feel like an extra demeaning interaction. but of course, it's Sukuna.

chapter 24 is so fucking shady too with everything we know. i know you addressed some of these points already bc i brought them up in previous anon messages, but these things still had me paranoid;

the way Sukuna leaves us and tells the reader to go to his room after a certain amount of time (i know he could have just been tidying up real quick but everything about this man has me on edge)

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A/N> A lot of people are on edge about this but I’ll be honest, there’s nothing crazy that happens in between this time period. Not saying nothing happens but nothing crazy— it’ll be addressed later (in the next fic most likely)

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the way he's been consistently on the phone since the reader entered the room, which is shortly after she messaged Gojo saying that she'll be able to cross Sukuna off of this list by tonight which he wasn't happy with at all.

no seriously, he kept diverting his attention to something in the bathroom and then came out, still on his phone. maybe he's talking to literally anyone else but STILL I'M PARANOID

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A/N> This is to show the fact that Sukuna is a very socially active individual, & hints to the theory (I think you later state) that he has connections.

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this happens in chapter 25 but the way he keeps smiling while the reader kisses him is just so smug of him especially considering the original reason as to why the reader's even interacting with him

then the spicy chapters with Sukuna…

the foreshadowing that the lack of knowledge of Sukuna's reputation will come back to bite her in the ass; first with the knowledge that he is abusive, and then her finding out that he is the curator of the list, knowing the full details of her blackmail and even threatening her again.

WHO DID HE FUCKING FIGHT HELPPPPP MY MIND IS BOGGLING there's no way it's Gojo, right? they're both too unscathed in these next few chapters for there to have been a fight between the two of them.

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A/N > It’s not Gojo. 🙏

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THE FUCKING MOMENT WHERE HE CONTEMPLATED SOMETHING WITH THE PHONE IN HIS HAND??? I FUCKING KNEW IT. I FUCKING CALLED IT WAS SOMETHING SHADY AS HELL.

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A/N> The other Sukuna hint I was talking about is right before this moment btw, you’re welcome ;)

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then he has the audacity to hold his tongue right afterwards?? it's such a big hint towards the fact that he knew about the list from the beginning UGHHHHHHHH.

the way he tried to humor the reader about her "job" even though he was in on the whole thing. UGH. SUKUNA WHEN I GET YOU SUKUNA?? 👊👊👊👊 especially with that "whore" joke right afterwards. i can't stand him. i know that it's implied that he has a twisted view on women from having abusive women in his life (his mom and his ex who he punched) BUT STILL. he's so lucky he's fictional and hot.

the fact that we're able to pick up on the fact that it's a "crazy coincidence" that he continues the whore jokes UGHHHHH HE HAS BEEN PLAYING US FROM THE STAAAAAARTT

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

GIRL YOU WERE ALMOST THERE!!!! YOU ALMOST HAD IT!!!

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A/N > I love teasing in my narration by nearly spoiling things 😹

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---

seriously though, these chapters killed me. the official end obliterated my heart. it's so fucking bittersweet i want to scream at the top of a high building. the reader ends up happy and with someone she loves, which is fantastic for her. she deserves that after everything she went through. Choso treats her so, so well.

but Gojo. with the theories i have, i feel horrible. i was so harsh towards him as a die hard Choso girly but these endings changed me. i just hope i'm right.

the fact that his healing journey is harsher than ours makes this ending sting so much. he's healed, and you can see it with his demeanor from the call and the way he interacted with the reader.

we were always made aware of the way he looked at us such deep attachment. the initial gleam shows that he's happy to see us, but that he's not reliant on us for his happiness anymore. he's finding that on his own, and it's a grueling process for him. i wished the reader gave him a hug, but that would probably make me feel even worse.

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A/N> He gave her a lil side hug (with his arm over her shoulder) & was resting his head on hers at the end if that makes you feel any better 😅

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"Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start." i'm gonna throw up bro i'm so sad. i'm proud of his growth. his obsession was so, so strong but he always prioritized the reader's happiness over himself. i know that being self-sacrificial is so core to his personality but it doesn't make it suck any less. i'm devastated. i started blasting mitski in the car on my way to work after reading this.

i thought i was ready for the journal burning. i was so ready for this tie to be severed, for them to finally move on. but i failed to realize that it could ultimately mean a life without each other. it makes sense as to why, but it still sucks.

kami i need that poly ending before i cry my eyes out at 4 am rn. you know i can't handle angst, but bittersweet endings lowkey hurt me even more. i need all my babies to be happy. i desperately need it.

but that alt ending... fuck. in a horrible, sick, and twisted way, i'm relieved. i'm a Choso girly from the bottom of my heart but i can't let this Gojo go omfg. even if he shows up for one more chapter, i think i'll be alright. BUT IT BETTER NOT BE FOR DEATH KAMI!!!! I HAVE A FEW EXCERPTS THAT SUGGEST DEATH FLAGS BUT I AM SIMPLY NOT LOOKING AT THEM. DON'T DO THIS TO ME KAMIIIIIII. i need this boy to be frolicking in a field of flowers or something. my heart can't take this.

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A/N> I know I reference death a lot but that’s just to add a sense of how dramatic the characters are 🫶

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---

okay, time for my mind-fucky theory. pls bare with me. if it wasn't obvious by my last post, i'm 100% on board with the theory that Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo, which started this whole thing. but the thing that is getting me is how this all connects. i have some assumptions that could make sense, but there are a handful of gaps. here's my thought process;

Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo by using his obsession/love against him.

we are already familiar with the fact that Gojo has liked the reader for years. there was a chapter where Gojo mentioned that it started off as a "crush" but he was so oblivious to his own obsession up until the reader mentioned it to him. it's to the point that he didn't understand what was wrong with the idea of hurting people for the reader. who's to say that Sukuna didn't catch him in some sort of heinous act regarding the reader like stalking?

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A/N > You’re cooking with this one and I almost, almost had to go get the fire extinguisher :D

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Gojo didn't understand the difference between love and obsession until later on in the story. this would be consistent with the implication that Gojo just loved her so deeply that his morals were askew as we have yet to find out how far his love goes.

what if Sukuna caught him in the act of doing god knows what, and brought up the fact that if the reader found out about this, that she'd get super freaked out and would do everything she can to get away from him (considering probably barely knew each other, if at all, at this point). but why would Sukuna devise such a plan over a money bribe? well, Sukuna's already revealed to be wealthy, and maybe he was bored. the same line that Gojo kept repeating to the reader whenever she questioned him as to why he did it. what if Gojo asked Sukuna why he's blackmailing him, and he said the exact same thing; "I was bored." we see how much Sukuna mirrors Gojo's speech by calling the reader "sweetheart" often, what if Gojo did the same thing?

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A/N > Gojo & Sukuna do have a few parallels in this story & they will be addressed more in the sequel.

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we wondered in chapter 23 how Gojo reaches out to these men to ensure their debt is "paid," but considering how oblivious everyone else on the list is to Gojo owing them anything, it would make sense that he only reports to Sukuna as he is ordered to do so. but two things stumped me on this theory overall.

the reader said that she used to party a lot and get involved with boys before Gojo. if he was stalking her for so long, why did he wait so long to approach her?

what specifically would be the blackmail that Sukuna has on Gojo?

regarding the first point, it's been mentioned that Gojo has been "scared of women" and was shy when it came to approaching the reader. he knew of her for so long, but was able to constantly slip under her radar. considering how much of a pervert he is, it wouldn't have been surprising for him to sneak around and watch in on the reader hooking up with other guys. after all, these guys were probably complete strangers to him and all he cared about was you. remember how Gojo was basically able to tune out his own best friend, Suguru, when the reader was hooking up with him in their living room? it wouldn't be wild to assume that he was able to do the same for your other hookups as he spied on you.

to connect this with second point, what if Sukuna caught Gojo being a peeping tom on the reader during a party hook-up? while being so distracted in the act of spying, Sukuna spots him. the reader wouldn't be alright with the fact that someone who's barely an acquaintance (if that, depending on the time this occurred) to her has been perving around and watching her have sex without her consent. she would do anything to get away from Gojo, and of course that would crush him. Gojo tried to buy Sukuna's silence by any means necessary. so, Sukuna generated a list of people that he and Gojo mutually knew for the reader to fuck. the reasoning for it would be the fact that Gojo has to sit through the process of having the girl he likes fuck a bunch of guys besides him, and the fact that Gojo knew all these men would make it sting more. plus, he has a reputation for hookups. (chapter 8)

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A/N > You’re like RIGHT there with it and yet not there at the same time omg 😟

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but why would Gojo agree to this deal with Sukuna, and why would he also go with the method of blackmailing the reader? it's basically a guarantee that the reader would be scared away regardless. but again, we could recall that Shoko mentioned that he was too "scared of women" to approach the reader at first. this was his chance to finally approach her. plus, "once that video is gone, there is no excuse he'll have to be around you." (chapter 8)

---

but the more i thought of this reasoning for the two points, the more bizarre it felt. so what if instead of Gojo being a peeping tom, it was Sukuna. we get so many hints that Sukuna has eyes and intel everywhere. we get an indirect implication of this when he called us out for rolling our eyes during our phone call with him. yes, it could be completely by chance, but it's still a great hint that he "sees everything" and "knows everything." we get an even bigger hint towards this in the alt ending when he directly references The F*ck List.

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A/N > Others have taken note of how Sukuna knew she rolled her eyes but trust me, that’s just to show that Sukuna knows the reader’s body language more than he’s let on & paid attention to her a lot during the time they were together.

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it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume that he has some shady videos taken of people without his consent, some possibly acquired through other people (like how Gojo was revealed to have sent Sukuna the video of the reader from the first chapter). what if Gojo caught Sukuna with the video, threatened him to delete it, and Sukuna counterthreatened to have it be sent and posted everywhere. it would be highly ironic, but consistent with the way that Gojo and Sukuna practically mirror each other at times. the reasoning for the list choices would still be the same for this theory, too.

---

my citations for these theories ☝️🤓

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.” - Chapter 56

loved you from the start; his obsession has been consistent from the start (supports Gojo being a peeping tom theory) or he has always had a deep concern for you (supports him wanting to stop Sukuna from spreading blackmail of you instead).

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.”

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?”

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement.

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him.

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.”

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yup.” - Chapter 56

is he an idiot for being a peeping pervert instead of just approaching you normally? maybe. how does this make her happy? she ends up finding love through Choso, through the list, through the blackmail.

But deleting the video means ... he has no more leverage over you and can't force you to help him with the hole he's dug for himself. - Chapter 8

the hole being the blackmail set against him by Sukuna.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth.

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this. - Chapter 9

the videos he's referencing is the original video from chapter 1 and the fake video he lied about with Suguru, but he can't tell the reader the truth because it's too twisted and risky (supports Gojo peeping tom theory).

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice." - Chapter 21

if he didn't go through with his list, Sukuna would have went through with Gojo's blackmail, thus resulting in either you getting as far away from Gojo as soon as possible or Sukuna's video being sent around.

He let something slip abruptly, "W-Wish I c-could tell you everything, sweets..."

Your brows furrow at that.

Are you missing something here? - Chapter 22

YES GIRL!!!! SUKUNA'S BEHIND THE WHOLE LIST, HE'S BEHIND THE BLACKMAIL GIRLYPOP

"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you." - Chapter 29

"I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you."

You follow his motions and then end up right back in his arms, "Right..."

"I'd sacrifice the very thing I love just to see you happy." Gojo claims proudly.

You scoff, "Thought' I was the thing you loved?"

"You are."

His words bewilder you, "Then that makes no sense."

"It won't." Gojo shrugs. - Chapter 29

🧍‍♀️

anything. even if it means putting your body, heart, mind, and career on the line. directly supports the theory that Sukuna initially had blackmail on the reader.

"We're the same, y'know..." He suddenly says, his voice breaking again, "We both want someone so terribly bad but our situations prohibit us from getting that person."

"You could've prevented all this though..."

Gojo sniffles and you feel a drop of wetness slide down his cheek and slip against your palm. The man was crying? Why? - Chapter 30

this whole time we've been told that Gojo and the reader share more similarities than the reader realizes. what Gojo is to the reader, the reader is to Choso. while Choso now knows of the men that the reader slept with, he doesn't know why. he doesn't know about you being blackmailed. you know that you had to sleep with these men. you don't know why. you didn't know it was because of Gojo being blackmailed.

"For loving me, Satoru. It's not a crime," You say, mocking a comment he made to you earlier, "You're allowed to love me. So, for that, and that only, I forgive you."

Those words healed so many more wounds in his heart than you realized. It was like that was all he ever needed to hear. If Gojo's mistake was loving you and that's what caused this, then you forgive him.

If in some twisted way, his feelings started the list, you forgive him.

COME ON NOW.

There’s so much going unspoken but the two of you knew what either was saying, you understood each other more than either of you realized. - Chapter 35

“Well,” Gojo sighs heavily and then draws your hands off his face, leaning down to you a bit, “Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made in exchange for one’s happiness.”

“Are you telling me that all this was for the greater good?” You quiz as you raise a curious brow.

“Something like that, yeah,” He shrugs. - Chapter 45

You tell him, “If I had one wish, it’d be that you did that from the beginning.”

Gojo opens his mouth to say something but then he swallows his words down. He nearly fucked up.

“All you had to do was talk to me,” Your shoulders raise into a shrug as you move a hand to the doorknob, “Things could’ve been different if you did.”

“Even if I’ve been obsessed with you since the beginning?” He questions and he’s stepping closer to you again. He can’t possibly wrap his head around that possibility-

You laugh a bit, “Especially if you were obsessed from the beginning,” You didn’t know it but that statement right there made the man feel as though his world was falling apart, loads of regret tumbling over him as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Satoru I think you forgot but, before all this started, aside from Shoko… I was lonely.”

Gojo’s throat goes dry and he fails to form a response to that, “I…”

“If you had just talked to me one time, and more than a hey or how are you,” The way your eyes soften, a slim sheer gloss of tears coating your gaze as you speak to him, “I would’ve fallen for you.”

He grits his teeth, “Don’t tell me that.”

“But it’s true.” You say.

And just like that, Gojo was crumbling all over again. If only you knew how much he regretted everything after hearing you say that. - Chapter 46

if he had just spoke to the reader before all of this, maybe she wouldn't have gone to those parties, hooked up with those people, and caused whatever kind of blackmail Sukuna had on Gojo (or on her).

He wishes he could take it all back, his feelings for you included. If only he could go back and stop himself from ever being curious about you. That’s what started it after all. Because, at the end of the day, Gojo knew who you were before you knew who he was— hell, even before Shoko knew who you were. - Chapter 53

then what is the timeline of his obsession starting? has it been before Gojo? could his blackmail have taken place even before Shoko introduced you two, adding to the weight of the threat that Sukuna held over Gojo's head (regarding the peeping tom theory).

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A/N > The timeline on Gojo’s interest, not obsession just yet, on the reader will be addressed in the sequel so this’ll be answered there <3

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but there were certain parts that stumped me and my theories so i have some weird reasonings around them;

It's selfish of him and seriously fucked up but, he's said it before and he'll say it over and over again-- you're all he has. He made promises to everyone on that list, promises of delivering a woman to them at some point, and of course, he couldn't convince anyone he knew to do such a thing.

So again, the situation with you just happened to be a coincidence.

The problem is that Gojo hates that it's you. He hates that you're the one he ended up doing this to. - Chapter 8

Gojo's known to be a silly guy so it could make sense that he actually did promise these guys hookups for reasons unrelated to his blackmail. after all, he does have a reputation for getting people hookups. the coincidence is that Sukuna now has dirt on Gojo and wants to toy with him. by making the reader sleep with them the guys he coincidentally owes hookups to, he fulfills his role/reputation and relieves his debt at the same time. two birds, one stone.

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A/N > As we later learn that some of the “debt” Satoru claimed to have isn’t real, we can also infer that his reputation & the promises he’s made to these men were done out of coincidence. Take Toji for example; tell me you can’t see an interaction between him & Gojo where Gojo gets a bad grade and wants to get it up so he taunts his professor with the idea of getting him a hookup & Toji would laugh it off considering Gojo’s reputation ;)

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another thing that stumped me is why Gojo got so worked up with the reader referring herself as a whore, and the connection to Sukuna. my delulu reasoning is that once Sukuna threatened Gojo with blackmail by either of the two theories/methods i mentioned, Sukuna casually referred to the reader as a whore. that caused a major fight between the two, possibly even getting physical (which can refer back to the implication that Gojo has hurt people for the reader).

the fight could have increased the tension and severity of the situation, so Sukuna decides to add Choso to the list knowing how easily attached Choso gets. in chapter 5, the reader and Gojo were discussing the list and Choso specifically. Gojo was even noted to be relieved when the reader had mentioned that they'll just have to hope that Choso doesn't get attached, as he obviously holds deep feelings for the reader. Sukuna knows that by going through with the blackmail with Choso involved, Gojo most likely will not end up with the reader if Choso get attached and the reader reciprocates those feelings.

also, the counterargument that Sukuna and Gojo are actually friends/allies in this situation just doesn't sit well with me. it would make for a crazy twist but it just feels too out of character for Gojo. but then again, how would Sukuna specifically know about The F*ck List? but idk, it just feels so wrong to me. maybe i have too much faith in Gojo lmfao. after all, he has consistently shown a great dislike towards the guy since chapter 23. but maybe it's my denial speaking. i really don't want to think of Satoru going through this whole arc only for it to reveal that he truly is a piece of shit. pls don't do this to my pookie my heart cannot handle it </3

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A/N > Remember, Gojo is a good actor & you go a long period of time in the book not realizing he’s not as much of a villain as he pretends to be 😉

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there's that moment after the reader fucked Sukuna that still messes with my brain. with my theories, my brain's thinking that he contemplated on collecting even more blackmail on the reader. for what reason? idk, to be an ass? to torment Gojo further and add more to his blackmail? but maybe he decided not to because he already has plenty of blackmail on the reader (if the theory of Sukuna having a video of her from way back then is true) and fucking her knowingly made Gojo pissed considering all the dirt Sukuna has.

so why can't Gojo tell her the truth now? why does he want to wait years in advance? maybe he's hoping that by that time, not only will you forget and not care about the situation overall, but maybe Sukuna will forget all about it as well. the chances of Sukuna holding on to the reader's blackmail for that long is slim and the reader would most likely be in a situation where she is completely separated from Sukuna depending on her job and living situation with Choso. the stakes are lower than if he were to reveal everything to you now, at a moment where your life is still so uncertain. it would go against his wish for you to end up happy.

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A/N > Maybe Gojo doesn’t tell her the truth because he can’t, just as he said 🌚 Perhaps he’s not allowed to yet. After all, why would Sukuna even tell the reader he made the list in the end? ^.^ Just some food for thought!

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---

regarding the future of TFL... fuck, bro. i have no fucking idea. i'm too caught up in the (presumed) past. i'm mourning fr. i love this fic sooooo fucking much. whenever you decide to pick up on the sequel, i will be there. if you choose to publish anything else in the meantime, i will be there. thanks for such a fun and memorable read, Kami. i'm excited to bookbind this soon 🤍🤍🤍 now, i need to watch blue lock to shove these feelings down.

yap fin (for now)

-☃️

A/N > I love you sosoosooooo much for this. These theories are like reading an entirely new fanfic sometimes except, I know all the answers & what’s going to happen next, which only makes me more excited ^.^ Thank you for taking the time to make this, thank you for reading, thank you for supporting, just, THANK YOU.

This right here is exactly what I write for; people like you :)

To the others reading this breakdown & theory, thank ☃️anon because she’s a damn godsend & ilhsm ^.^ (definitely showing favoritism rn, sorry not sorry, ily all I swear)

Edit; Since you’re watching Blue Lock, I can’t wait to bring my Shidou fanfic here because a lot of the drama in TFL has inspo from that fic, which I wrote first ^.^ & I could totally see you enjoying it because not only is it a childhood friends to lovers than enemies & back to lovers troupe BUT it also includes Itoshi Sae x reader which ofc, adds hella drama :))

P.S. It’s two am as I finally post this and omg sorry it took me a while, I wanted to answer other anons first before unpacking this badboy, again, tysm!!

#kamiversee!answers #kamiversee #the f*ck list #tfl!theories #tfl spoiler #tfl #k!ans: ☃️

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azrielsmate87 · 5 months

Text

Small Dilemma

Azriel x reader

(I live in the Uk, the average height for women is five three here. Ive googled it multiple times 😂)

Sneaking out of bed proved to be a challenge. Especially when the bed was warm, cozy with your mate that had his arms wrapped tightly around you. Usually you’d revel in these moments with him and the pea full look on his face, but Az treated you to a surprise date last night, knowing you had a rough week at work. He wanted to see you relaxed at home, and selfishly spend some quality time with his mate. Neither of you made it home however. You both decided that you should stay in the town house as it was closer then your cabin on the outskirts of velaris and Az didn’t have the patience to winnow you home but rather his old room.

After the wonderful events of last night you decided to make him some coffee as he’s usually grumpy without it, bless him. It was the least you could do. You wanted to do something nice even if it was small compared to the wonderful evening prior. After what felt like forever you managed to carefully wiggle out of his arms and quietly make your way to the kitchen. It was different to yours obviously as yours was small but cozy. The one at the town house had servants preparing an array of foods for breakfast that seemed to all scatter at your arrival.

“Forgot Rhys had kitchen staff” you mumbled not deterred by your mission to make your mate some coffee while you make yourself from tea. One other small thing you forgot about….. the height difference.

Being on the verge of average height meant you were a little on the small side. But you had read all the height statistics you could find in the library to attempt to stop the short quips from the inner circle. Key word being attempt. If anything they found your stubbornness / annoyance funny, frequently comparing you to an angry kitten. Even though you were a solid 3 inches taller then Amren, even more so in heels.

The mugs were located in a cupboard above the worktops, this place was clearly designed for those who where over 5’5 5’6 so you couldn’t exactly reach. Jumping up onto the counter top you could reach the handle. Relieved that it was only a small jump needed and not some manoeuvre you’d have to think off. However your moment of relief was short lived as your stupid mate interrupted you.

“Need me to get that for you love?” He smirked leaning against the door frame shadows dancing round him, some slithering up your arms and into your hair. Distracting you from your task ay hand. No! You came this far! You’ve done it all by yourself! Why now does he have to ruin the nice thing you’ve been trying to do for him for the past ten minutes!?

“Are you insulting the vertically challenged?!” You yelled. Ok so maybe it wasn’t Az who was grumpy in the morning without caffeine….

He smiled and let out a small laugh holding your gaze for a couple moments before holding his hands in surrender and retreating to the living room.

Happy that he left you finally opened the cupboard, you froze. “I could of sworn the mugs were on the bottom shelf” you mumbled looking at the mugs that were on the back of the top shelf as they looked back mocking you. Looking at the width of the counter you swung your feet up and tried to find footing to stand. Determined to do this for Az. Slowly standing with one foot in front of the other you quickly realised this was a stupid idea and that you’d loose your balance the minuet you added weight to a side.

“Dammit!”

After hopping down, you slowly made your way towards Az. Head hung low as you acknowledge defeat. He knew you were there, you could see his shadows whispering in his ears. After a few moments he met your gaze quirking an eyebrow, smug look on his face. Bastard.

“Help meeeee” you whined. He smiled and walked into the kitchen with you trailing after him. “I just wanted to do something nice for you after yesterday” you confessed into his chest while hugging him tightly as he grabbed the mugs. He put them down to return the hug murmuring a sweet “I know” into your hair giving you a soft squeeze.

He then felt bad for getting his shadows to move the mugs when you weren’t looking.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #fluff

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just-aake · 8 months

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part IV

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: slight fluff, slight angst

Words: 4898

A few days have passed since the night of the ball, and you find yourself back at the castle, this time for your usual meeting with Queen Melina.

Beyond her role as the kingdom's ruler, the queen has always had a keen interest in the sciences — a passion you also shared since you were young.

As a result, you frequently visit the castle to engage in discussions and assist with her latest discoveries and experiments.

However, recently, your focus has shifted toward some of her previous contributions, especially the ones during the war between the Romanov and Stark kingdoms.

You shuffle in your chair again as you attempt to analyze the information on the parchment before you.

Normally, it wouldn’t take this long, but you can’t seem to concentrate. Your mind is too distracted trying to find the right moment to ask her your questions.

The sounds of scribbling in the library stop, causing you to look up.

You find that Queen Melina has paused in her writing and set her quill down, looking at you knowingly.

“Let’s take a break,” she offers.

The two of you decide to move closer to the fireplace for your conversation, and you hand her a cup of tea before sitting on one of the chairs beside her.

Queen Melina nods her head at you as she takes a sip, indicating for you to speak.

You lean forward in your seat, eager to discuss your recent findings from your readings.

“In one of the books you gave me, there was a mention of something called the Black Widow operations. I tried to find more information, but there weren't any further details about it anywhere.”

“That’s because it was a secret operation created by your father and me during the war. Only a select few are aware of its existence and purpose,” she explains.

Your shoulders slump at the revelation.

If this operation was a kingdom secret, it's likely you won't be able to uncover any more details about it.

Melina observes your crestfallen expression carefully before making a decision.

“Do you know about the black widow spider?” she asks you.

You look at her in surprise, realizing that she intends to continue discussing this restricted subject with you.

When you shake your head, she continues, “They're named after the tendency of the female species to consume the male after mating.”

Setting her cup down on the table, she turns her attention to you.

“Your father has always found that concept intriguing — the betrayal of a loved one.”

Of course he would.

You can't help but roll your eyes, hardly surprised at your father's cruel fascination with such an idea.

The queen proceeds with her explanation.

“The Black Widow operations were based on this idea. At the time, I had recently developed a serum that relaxes a person's mind and their compulsions. Combined with your father’s conditioning methods, we were able to develop a new way of gaining information from our enemies.”

“By controlling them,” you interject, already suspecting the true nature of the operations.

She nods in acknowledgment, confirming your suspicion.

“Once activated by a handler, the affected subjects would unknowingly search for the information that we needed and relay it to us without ever realizing what they were doing.”

“So these subjects were unaware of what happened to them?”

Your hands clench involuntarily at the unsettling thought of being controlled without knowing to eventually betray your loved ones.

“This was during the time of war,” the queen reminds you. “The Stark Kingdom had made significant advances in their weaponry, and we needed something to help shift the balance. Your father ensured that the process wiped away all memory of the conditioning.”

Her gaze becomes solemn as she gazes into the crackling fire.

“Initially, that was the sole purpose of these operations — to gather intelligence. But as the war dragged on, Dreykov grew restless.”

She continues with a sigh, “So, he expanded the operations beyond controlling just the subjects' thoughts, but also their actions. He believed that this would be the key to victory in the war.”

“But you didn’t agree,” you say as more of an observation than a question.

Melina nods, her expression tinged with regret.

“Dreykov and I had shared similar ideals and aspirations for many years. We would have done anything to win the war for a better future for the kingdom.”

“What changed?” you ask, curious about the turning point in their history.

Her gaze softens, a faint smile on her lips as she reminisces.

“Well, everything appears different when you are about to start a family.”

Realization dawns on you as you remember.

Natasha was born near the end of the war.

Melina lets out a sad exhale as she continues.

“I could sense that the Starks, too, were growing weary of the war. They already had a son and were expecting another child soon,” she adds, her voice laced with understanding. “And for a moment, I believe your father also understood what I meant…when he had you.”

Your expression turns doubtful at her words, but the queen doesn’t notice as she finishes.

“So, a peace treaty was made between the two kingdoms, stopping the war. Everything was supposed to be okay.”

“But it wasn’t.”

You can continue this part of history. Everybody knows of the tragedies that followed immediately after the war's end.

“My mother was killed in a fire by enemies seeking revenge on my father. And soon after, the captain of the Stark kingdom murdered King Howard, Queen Maria, and their newborn daughter, leaving the surviving son, Prince Tony, to assume the throne.”

You furrow your brows at an unnerving thought.

"The captain…he was a part of the operations, wasn't he?" you inquire, piecing together the connections.

“I don’t know,” the queen admits with a heavy sigh. "Your father was still grieving when I confronted him about it, but he denied any involvement."

She shakes her head at the memory.

“Nevertheless, I closed the Red Room and put an end to the Black Widow operations, and any further research on them has been sealed and restricted ever since.”

You look down at your hands sadly at the information.

“So, there was no method developed to undo the conditioning on those affected,” you conclude.

Melina gives you a sympathetic look and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder for comfort.

You let out a disappointed sigh. That means you’re back to where you originally started in your research.

A silence follows for a moment before the queen decides to speak, her tone more lighthearted to contrast the somber atmosphere.

“I’m glad to see you and Natasha are close again.”

When you look at her in surprise at the shift in conversation, she raises her eyebrow at you, teasingly adding.

“Well, closer. I heard about your little display the other night.”

You flush under her gaze as you hide your face behind your hand, still embarrassed at the memory.

The two of you were swaying slowly to the soft music in an isolated corner of the dance floor, within perfect view of the other nobles in the ballroom.

“I have an idea,” Natasha says with a smirk.

You are about to question her when Natasha suddenly tilts her head and leans in, her face covering yours from the watchful eyes of the other nobles.

You close your mouth in surprise, your next words lost as your eyes widen.

From everyone else’s perspective, it appeared as though the princess just leaned in to kiss you.

In reality, Natasha’s lips hover just above yours.

A breath’s distance separated the two of you. If you move even a little, your lips will touch hers. You feel your heart beat faster at the thought.

Before you can react any further, Natasha pulls away, her eyes shining with amusement as she teases you.

“That expression on your face is really cute.”

Internally groaning at the memory, you feel your face grow even warmer in embarrassment.

After Natasha's bold move, there is no denying what the other nobles believe is your current relationship with the princess.

The point becomes even more evident when Kate's excited exclamation at the sight of the two of you supposedly kissing draws the attention of everyone in the room.

Melina lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction.

“I’ve always known you two would be a good match.”

You lower your hands from your face and tilt your head, puzzled by her comment.

What did she mean by ‘a good match’?

Just as you're about to ask her for clarification, a knock at the library doors interrupts you.

Natasha steps into the room, her gaze shifting between you and her mother.

“Are you finished with Y/n?” she asks.

Melina waves her hand in dismissal.

“Go ahead, I remember what it was like to be young and in love.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and extends her hand to you, nodding towards the exit.

"Let's hurry before she starts sharing her old love stories."

As you're leaving, Melina calls out to you both, “Y/n, please join us for dinner tonight. And Natasha, don’t be late again.”

You nod in acknowledgment as Natasha groans and pulls you out through the doors.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha strolls beside you along the stone paths that lead to the castle’s garden.

Besides the gardeners, other castle staff barely go through this area, leaving the both of you isolated from prying eyes or ears.

After checking that nobody else was around, she turns to you with a question that she’s been wondering about since the night of the ball.

“So my plan was to pretend until after my coronation. What exactly is your plan?”

You raise your brow teasingly at her.

“What, you don’t want to be in this fake relationship with me forever?”

Natasha huffs in disbelief, shoving your shoulder with hers lightly.

“I’d marry you myself if it means you don’t have to be with that jerk.”

And she was serious. You were her closest friend and an important person in her life. She would do anything to make sure you were safe and happy.

You smile softly at her, shaking your head in refusal.

“I just need time to look for someone else suitable enough to replace Lord Rumlow.”

“Better than me?” Natasha teases.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes exasperatedly as you walk ahead of her.

Reaching the garden’s entrance, you stop and turn around to face her with a serious expression.

“Alright, we should get our story straight.”

Natasha gives you an amused look.

“What do you mean?”

“We need to come up with how we became a couple,” you explain.

Natasha crosses her arms and tilts her head in thought before shrugging.

“There’s not much to come up with,” she reasons. “It’s a typical story. A princess and her childhood friend. One day, the friend realizes her feelings for the princess, confesses, and then they decide to be together.”

You raise your brows playfully at her words, barely concealing your grin.

“Somebody’s confident.”

In response, Natasha gracefully plucks a red rose from a nearby bush, a teasing smirk on her lips, as she leans in close and offers it to you.

“You’re the one who said I could get anybody in this kingdom to fall for me.”

You accept the flower with an amused laugh, gently pushing her away.

“Well, I’m not just anybody,” you tell her as you brush past her into the garden.

Natasha watches you go with a soft smile before following after you.

“Alright then, let’s say that I was the one who fell first and confessed to you,” she offers, catching up to you. “We don’t need to reveal anything more than necessary.”

You nod in agreement, stopping and turning back around to face her again.

“Then what about how we act around each other?”

Natasha’s brows furrow in confusion.

“What’s wrong with how we usually act?”

You wave your hand, gesturing vaguely in the air.

“I’m talking about other things, you know, like affectionate touches or….” your voice trails off as you think of the other things couples typically do.

“Kissing?” Natasha finishes for you with an amused smirk.

“I have never seen your face turn that red before,” she says with a light chuckle at the memory of the other night. “I’m not sure how long we’d be able to pull this off if you are constantly blushing at my actions.”

Your expression turns into a pout at her teasing.

“You just caught me by surprise. Anybody would be flustered in my position.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Natasha replies, confident in her ability to maintain composure since she is used to the many flirtations from the other nobles and was unfazed by all of their attempts before.

“You don’t think I can make you flustered too?” you ask as you place your hands innocently atop her shoulders.

Natasha tilts her head and squints suspiciously at you, unconvinced.

“You can try,” she says skeptically.

A sly grin appears on your lips at the challenge.

Without hesitation, your hands glide down from her shoulders and rest against her front, just above her chest. You move in close, your bodies not quite touching but enough for her to feel your warmth.

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly in surprise but she doesn’t step away, unwilling to back down.

Your face leans in slowly until your lips hover a breath away from hers, mimicking what she did the other night. But then your voice drops to a low whisper against her lips.

“Are you sure about that?”

Natasha locks her gaze onto yours, and for a moment, the world around her fades until her only focus is you. Her words seem caught in her throat as she feels her heart quicken slightly.

Your head shifts to the side, breathing gently against her neck before moving your lips up next to her ear.

“Gotcha,” you murmur.

You pull back swiftly and step away, removing your touch from her body and innocently clasping your hands behind you. Your eyes sparkle with triumph as you tilt your head teasingly.

“Looks like the princess can blush after all.”

Natasha blinks, momentarily caught off guard as she raises a hand to rub at her warm cheeks in surprise, feeling a faint blush spreading. She coughs lightly, regaining her composure.

“Not bad,” she admits absently.

Your smile widens in victory as you reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers.

“We don’t actually have to kiss.” Waving your clasped hands, you tell her. “Touches like this should be good enough for the public.”

You pull her towards the castle.

“Come on, Natasha, we wouldn’t want to be late.”

Natasha hums distractedly in acknowledgment, but her focus remains on your clasped hands as she wonders to herself.

Why was her heart still racing?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

On the way to the dining hall, you noticed that Natasha was oddly quiet, but when you glanced back at her, she offered you her usual smile.

As you enter, you see Queen Melina and Yelena are already seated at their respective positions at the table. King Alexei is away on a short trip to the neighboring kingdom, so his seat at the other end is empty.

An additional chair which you assume is yours has been placed next to the other empty one beside the queen.

Natasha goes to pull out the chair next to her usual seat for you, but Melina stops her.

“Natasha, move over for Y/n. We have much to discuss.”

Yelena begins to laugh at her mother’s blatant display of favoritism, but she masks it with fake coughs when the queen shoots her a disapproving look.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha complies with her mother’s request, pulling out her usual chair for you instead. As she pushes you in, she leans down to whisper, “I told you, she likes you more.”

Melina looks between her two daughters and remarks sarcastically, “Oh, I’m sorry, did you or Yelena suddenly develop an interest in my experiments?”

Yelena hastily shakes her head, diverting her attention to petting Fanny beside her.

You tilt your head at Natasha in confusion as she settles in the seat next to you.

“I thought you liked to hear about her experiments.”

Over the years, you’ve frequently talked with Natasha about your sessions with the queen, and she always seems genuinely interested in what you say.

Melina arches a brow at Natasha. “The last time I tried to discuss my findings with you, you brushed me off and told me that you would simply read about them in your next lessons.”

Natasha shrugs indifferently as she replies, “It’s more interesting when Y/n explains it.”

Melina gasps in offense at her daughter’s words.

Yelena’s expression shifts into a teasing smirk as she gestures between her sister and you.

“What she means is she just enjoys listening to Y/n talk.”

Natasha discreetly kicks Yelena under the table in reprimand.

“Ow,” Yelena shoots a glare at her before turning to her dog.

“Fanny, bite,” she commands.

The dog playfully bounds under the table toward Natasha, only to stop abruptly at the sight of a treat in your hand.

You toss the treat to Fanny and pat her head as she happily settles down beside you.

Yelena gasps in mock betrayal at her dog.

As the dinner meals are brought out and set down on the table, Melina turns her attention to you.

“So, Y/n, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m heading into town for some errands,” you reply.

“Oh, will Natasha be joining you as well?”

You pause, a bit surprised by her question. You definitely were not expecting to have Natasha join you on your trip tomorrow.

“I am?” Natasha asks for you.

“Well, since you two don’t have to hide your relationship anymore, this would be a great opportunity for you to have a date,” Melina suggests.

“That’s…right,” you say, looking at Natasha nervously, realizing the implication. “We can go on dates in public now.”

Melina narrows her eyes disapprovingly at her daughter.

“Unless you are too busy training to take Y/n on a proper date, Natasha?” she asks accusingly.

Before Natasha can respond, the doors of the dining room burst open, drawing everyone’s attention.

King Alexei enters joyfully and makes his way to his chair while greeting everyone.

“Sorry I’m late, my family—ah and Y/n, nice to see you again—I have an exciting new story to tell you about my journey!”

Melina gives him a questioning look at his presence.

“We weren’t expecting you back until tomorrow,” she remarks.

King Alexei waves his hand nonchalantly.

“The guards wanted to get back sooner after the attack on the road.”

A plate is set down in front of him before he continues.

“That’s the story I wanted to share with you all. There I was, surrounded by twenty mercenaries, all pointing their weapons at me.”

“Wait, you were ambushed?” Natasha interrupts with concern.

He grins and nods, his eyes glinting with excitement.

“Aye, it was exhilarating. I haven’t felt this energized since my days in the war. You know, this reminds me of the time when I had to fight with one arm and leg broken.”

Yelena waves her hand dismissively, commenting, “We’ve heard that story many times already. Can we get back to the ambush?”

“Yelena!” Melina chastises.

“What? Obviously, it turned out okay if he’s here now,” she defends herself.

The queen rubs her head in exhaustion at her family before standing up.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, you’ll have to excuse me. Apparently, I need to speak with my husband and the captain in private.”

With that, she drags King Alexei out of the dining room, leaving the three of you to finish up your meals.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to come with me.”

Your voice breaks the silence in the carriage, pulling Natasha from her thoughts. She turns to you, sitting beside her in the carriage.

Registering your words, she scoffs in disbelief.

“After what happened to my father, you’re lucky I didn’t just have you stay the night at the castle.”

Your head tilts in thought at the idea.

“It has been a while since we’ve had a sleepover at the castle.”

Natasha shrugs before commenting, “I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Her smile takes on a teasing expression.

“Though it may be inappropriate now that we’re technically a couple. Imagine the rumors that would spread if someone saw that you spent the night in my room.”

Your face flushes a light shade of red at her words, and Natasha’s smile widens at the sight. She’s growing fond of being the cause of such blushes on your face. It was quickly becoming her new favorite expression from you.

You shoot her a playful glare, already knowing she was teasing you on purpose.

“Or I could just stay in one of the guest rooms.”

“But that’s no fun,” Natasha sighs in mock disappointment.

The conversation drifts off into a peaceful silence for a moment before Natasha recalls her mother’s earlier comment.

“You know, I can come with you tomorrow into town if you’d like,” Natasha suggests hopefully. She misses spending time with you like the way the two of you used to do.

You shake your head in refusal, replying with an understanding tone, “You don’t have to, Natasha. I know you have other things you need to do.”

Frowning at your words, Natasha rests her hand atop yours before responding sincerely, “I’ll always have time for you.”

She leans against your shoulder, bumping it lightly.

“Besides, my mother's right. This will give us a chance to show our ‘relationship’ to the public.”

You let out a laugh in disbelief.

“So we’re going to have a date because of your mother’s suggestion?”

Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“We wouldn’t want her to become suspicious. We have to make it seem like we’ve been together in secret for a while already.”

Your expression turns contemplative and you let out a worried sigh at the reminder.

“Then maybe we should practice things like kisses on the cheeks or the hands too so that we’ll look more comfortable with each other if it ever comes up,” you wonder out loud.

Natasha feels her heart quicken slightly at your words, but then she regains her composure, clearing her throat and shaking away that strange feeling in her chest.

“Do you want to try?” she finds herself asking without thinking.

Natasha watches as you ponder in thought before nodding at her with a determined expression. Facing forward with your cheek towards her, you close your eyes tightly in anticipation.

“Okay, go ahead,” you say.

Natasha holds in a laugh at your adorable expression as you wait for her to kiss you on the cheek. She can’t help but tease you as she leans in.

“Why are you so tense?”

You open your eyes and turn to her defensively.

“I’m not—“

Both of your eyes widen in surprise when Natasha’s lips brush softly against the corner of your mouth.

The two of you remain in that position for a moment, too shocked to move.

Eventually, Natasha is the one who pulls away first, her eyes locked onto yours. It feels just like that moment in the garden where everything around her disappears, her heart racing like before.

When you lightly bite your lips where she had touched yours, Natasha finds herself drawn to you at the movement, unconsciously leaning in again.

“We have arrived, Your Highness,” the coachman calls out as the carriage slows to a stop.

That brings Natasha back to reality as she pulls herself back in surprise. She looks away from you, clearing her throat lightly to find her voice before responding to him.

“Okay, thank you.”

When she turns back to you, she finds your head slightly ducked and looking away, a definite blush on your cheeks.

The carriage door is opened by your night gatekeeper who helps you out of the carriage. Natasha follows you soon after, rubbing her neck nervously.

“Y/n, about that kiss…,” Natasha trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

You chuckle lightly at the sight of the usually confident princess reacting so shyly, so you decide to make sure she knows that everything is still okay between the two of you, despite the accidental touch.

Raising your hand to cup her face, you lean up and give her a soft kiss against her cheek.

When you pull away, Natasha gives you a confused look.

“There, now we’re even,” you tell her in reassurance.

“Well, that display certainly confirms the rumors I’ve been hearing,” a sudden voice interrupts.

Both you and Natasha turn towards the source and see your father descending the stairs toward the two of you.

Natasha gives him a polite nod and smiles in greeting.

Despite being close friends with you for years, this is probably the first time that she has met your father personally outside of formal events.

“Good evening, Lord Dreykov.”

“Princess Natasha,” he greets, giving her a curt nod.

“I see you’ve brought my daughter home from her frivolous activities,” he continues with a condescending tone, his harsh words aimed at you.

Natasha’s smile fades at his tone and the insulting comment towards you. She turns to give you a questioning look but finds your head ducked toward the ground, avoiding her gaze.

Returning her attention to your father, Natasha remarks coldly.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever had a proper conversation with each other.”

“No, the last time I saw you, you were still a child,” Lord Dreykov states, examining her critically, his eyes scrutinizing her. “Some in the kingdom might even argue that you're still a child now, hardly ready to rule.”

Natasha smirks confidently in understanding, her posture straightening at the challenge. She’s no stranger to facing older nobles who are wary about her capabilities of taking the throne.

“I assure you that I am fully prepared to follow in my mother's footsteps. Though, I am open to insights from those who believe they know better.“

He scoffs at her words.

“My suggestion would be to not tread the same path as your mother.”

“Do you disagree with the decisions she made for the kingdom?" Natasha questions.

Lord Dreykov waves his hand dismissively as he admits, “Queen Melina possesses a brilliant mind, especially when it comes to her scientific discoveries and experiments.”

His voice shifts into a tone of disdain.

“However, her choices as the ruler of our kingdom — let’s just say, not everyone views her decision to accept a peace treaty when victory was within reach as a wise choice.”

“And yet both kingdoms have been at peace with each other for over two decades,” Natasha points out, her voice unwavering.

“If that is what you believe, then allow me to offer another piece of advice, Your Highness,” he says, feigning politeness.

“Peace is often just a thin veil, concealing the demons lurking underneath. You can never predict when a friend one day may suddenly become your enemy the next.”

His tone remained neutral, but Natasha sensed a subtle warning in his words. She is about to argue when she feels your hand grab hers.

Natasha looks over to you and finds your face now pale, just like that moment back at the ball when you were speaking with Lord Rumlow.

Glancing down, she notices your hand trembling slightly as you hold hers, but you quickly cover your clasp hands with your other hand, stopping the shaking.

Concern fills Natasha’s eyes as she studies your face.

She has never seen you in this kind of state before, so unsure and frightened.

Her eyes narrow as she glances suspiciously at Lord Dreykov, but another tug of her hand redirects her attention back to you.

You look at her with pleading eyes, whispering to her.

“Natasha, just go home.”

Lord Dreykov lifts his head at her, haughtily.

“Indeed, it is growing dark soon. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to the princess on her way home, now would we?”

Natasha clenches her teeth at the sight of his smug expression, unable to hide her new disdain for the noble.

“Natasha, please.”

At your words, Natasha dispels her tense posture before turning to you with a gentle expression.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n,” she promises, bringing your slightly trembling hands to her lips in a light kiss.

She shoots Lord Dreykov a suspicious glance before retreating into the carriage.

Once the carriage disappears from view, you let out a breath of relief before turning to your father with a sigh.

His hand emerges from behind him, and you involuntarily flinch at the sight of his raised hand, closing your eyes to brace yourself.

When you feel him pat your head, you cautiously open your eyes and see him smiling coldly at you, his eyes glinting with a sinister look.

“I was disappointed when you told me you were no longer close to the princess, but this…making her fall for you,” he scoffs, mockingly. “Maybe you are not as useless as I thought.”

As he leaves, his words weigh heavy on your heart, leaving you filled with worry. You’re no longer sure if you made the right decision with this plan anymore.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you for reading!

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