#keep in mind that I have never wanted to get married nor really expressed interest in a relationship

[sapphireluminescence]

Amatonormative Invective

I'm so tired of love.

Please don't say that there are other kinds of love. I know, okay? I've written an ode to a best friend and an elegy to an interest and called it love both times—I know. But the rest of the world doesn't seem to. Any kind of "love" I might deign to describe will be assumed romantic, and my own arcing terms will be turned against me to hold romance aloft as the all-encompassing, end-all-be-all singular thing to die for. And so, I am tired of love. Spare me the lecture.

But at the same time, this ire is not against the idea of intimacy; I have no quarrel with connection. Romance is not inherent to either, and though it still feels like a betrayal of the sentiment, I do not want to brave the world on my own.

I want to know the quiet of companionship. Not silence—not the frigid abyss of an empty house, where every sound is startling in its foreignness, nor the tightrope tension of tripping over porcelain, reading someone else's anger into the brittle air—just, quiet. Mornings in a light-flooded bedroom, waking up slow and watching someone else blink themselves out of sleep. Inane musings over separate tasks, paper-airplane banter tossed and caught from room to room with ease. Afternoons sprawled on the living room floor, watching sunlight slant through the windows to illuminate their face, eyes molten in the glow. A study of peace, curled up in office chairs listening to rustling pages and the breath of another. Lofty midnight ramblings, hands a flurry of motion and still failing to keep pace with a brain sparking ahead, but content in the knowledge of a mind to match.

I want the warmth of someone else's presence. A partner, I guess, in the purest sense of the word. "A person who shares or is associated with another in some action or endeavor," if the action is living and the endeavor is the building of a future. The promise of an ally. Steady at one shoulder, solid back-to-back. The assurance of a crewmate through storm and smooth sailing alike, over the ceaseless seas of this life.

But the world has agreed that these things are reserved, that they are romantic at their core.

I don't—have never—seen why.

They require trust, and understanding, and dedication, and a thousand other things, but none of them are love.

And I know it's a teenage cliche, to fear a future spent unlovable, but this is not quite that, twists around it and never quite aligns. I would have been happy piecing together an existence with friends, laughter rising through the rafters of a shared house and life, would have found joy, and warmth, and peace. I could have found myself a family—fuck what the world thinks love should be—and settled comfortably into my own skin.

Could have.

Could have, and cannot.

There is no future I can see where my friends stay, where they don't fly from my side like swallows in winter wind. Each disperses after the other, seeking warmer shores, absorbed into insular units of nuclear family to leave me, drifting unmoored and compassless, searching the skies for a sign of their soaring. The thought of a life without them makes me ache to the bone, an endless march of cold mornings in an echoing house. Their absence turns the future bleak and desolate, frost creeping over my brightest dreams.

How could they stay? You've seen what the world says:

My mother tells me to be careful about whom I marry. My father tells me to start a family early. I have expressed nothing but disinterest in either, but the advice persists, because surely it will be relevant one day, because I am young and minds change, because of course I will get married in the end.

I tell someone in a moment of confiding that I don't want kids, not really, would be satisfied with a cat or dog and a space of my own. They say, "Yeah, that's what I thought when I was like, eight."

The sentiment is passed over school tables and internet cables, words not meant to be sharp, but regardless, they find a mark.

"Reasons to stay alive," and a future marriage is at the top, followed directly by starting a family.

"Don't worry," someone consoles. "It's alright to take things slow, you'll find someone!"

"Friends don't cancel other plans" for each other the way lovers do, the song insists.

"True love," someone proclaims, like romance is the only kind that counts.

"I don't want to die alone" equates to needing to get married.

"Friendship doesn't count, doesn't last, isn't enough."

After all, your spouse is supposed to be

"The most important person,"

"Your other half,"

"Soulmate,"

"The one."

Under this barrage, who is meant to resist? Who would think to stray from the concrete course laid before them? When it's held up as the pinnacle and standard, the ultimate goal, who would dare to question?

To leave the expected trajectory—never as simple as stepping sideways, all bitter fury and disillusionment. Half the songs I once loved are tainted now, innuendo and implication mocking from the shadows. It tears cruel thorns through the fabric of this world, seeps through the cracks, into tropes and stories and conversations, desecrating spaces I once called holy.

For those who do not stray, these are words and nothing more, harmless briar in places they need not tread. They have been spared this casual clawing at my heart, and though I cannot begrudge the ones I care for their immunity, I seethe with a soundless envy.

Two roads diverge in a yellow wood—one a barely-there footpath through the trees, unnoticeable from the main route unless you're looking for a way out, mist-shrouded and dense with bramble, the other, a well-trodden trail through open fields that stretch, uninterrupted to where the waving grass meets the horizon. This one leads where I cannot follow, so I have taken the one less traveled by.

I trust that it will get easier. The slope will even out and the path will open up, mist and bristling vines alike will recede. I know this. But for now, this is an aimless trek through unforgiving and unmapped wilds, and the journey before me has never looked so long or so lonely.

#writing #poetry #amatonormativity #carnival of aros #aro #wrote this last year when i was having a crisis about what the future would look like #wrote it over a few months and by the time i was done i'd made peace with some stuff #and so i thought i didn't want to post it until i'd written the sequel to it (which Will exist) #but i'm feeling impulsive tonight and procrastinating finals #soooo #aro poetry #fuck amatonormativity

[ahi-django]

Monkey D. Luffy is aro-ace

It is currently June, which means it is pride month once again.

I have thought about it for a while as to what I could contribute to the spirits of the queer! So let's talk about our favourite ray of sunshine, better known as the MC of One Piece, Monkey D. Luffy.

Now before we continue, I would like to point out that this comment is purely based on speculations, supported by what the anime/manga has shown us in the past as well as Oda's point of view in past interviews he took part in. I am absolutely not caught up with the series yet, but the first 445 episodes more often than not have left rather clear signs regarding Luffy's orientation. Now let us begin.

To understand why many people such as myself see Luffy as aromantic-asexual, let us first break down what it means to identify as such:

Asexuality refers to limited sexual attraction or a lack thereof towards another person.

Aromanticism refers to a limited romantic attraction or a lack thereof towards another person.

Bear in mind that every asexual and aromantic person is individual as both umbrella terms have a wide spectrum. This means that both orientations do not have to go hand in hand, nor does it mean that people who identify as either or both are broken, weird or incapable of human emotions.

Additionally, some asexual people may still have sex in a romantic relationship, others may not. The same works for aromantic people who still might go into a romantic relationship, while others might not. I recommend watching this video (And the following videos of the trilogy, which are pinned in the info box in their video), it will explain the spectrums a little more thoroughly.

Now that we have established what it means to be aromantic-asexual, let us move on to Luffy. The debate about whether or not he is straight or not has been going on for years by now, and nobody can really decide where to place him exactly. We have seen in many other anime how romance has become a plot point for the MC eventually, yet for Luffy, this will never happen.

Oda has said on numerous occasions that he does not plan to focus on a possible romantic interest for the Strawhat captain, but instead simply wants to keep the plot straightforward with action and a story that goes in-depth with the lore of the world we call One Piece.

Thanks to multiple scenes within the pre-timeskip, we have learned a lot about Luffy as a character. We got to know him as a cheerful and selfish-selfless character, who doesn't take shit from nobody and will fight everyone who hurt his nakama. While he is not very intelligent overall, he possesses a high emotional intelligence and has the ability to read people in a way most cannot.

He is also very hyperactive, loud and sometimes very impulsive when making decisions. It is safe to say that if he ever got diagnosed, he would have ADHD (I mean, just look at him. You cannot tell me that he would not be neurodivergent of any kind).

Luffy has had the dream to become the King of Pirates ever since he was a child. From when he starts his journey to find the One Piece, he has shown time and time again that he displays his priorities openly for everyone to see. He says what he thinks and is not afraid to do so. Fun activities for him are either fighting or just goofing around with his friends. Also food. He loves food, especially meat. This man has his priorities, alright.

But that's also why people often think that Luffy simply focuses on these priorities, and once he has found the One Piece, he will get married to Boa Hancock. Then again, we know that Luffy is not interested in Hancock romantically.

We see Hancock first hugging Luffy, then her fawning over him, while his expression stays indifferent to this action. And this is only one of the many examples.

As we all remember very well, Luffy showed no reaction when Hancock used her devil fruit abilities on him. Said abilities allow "a range of attacks which use emotions of love, lust or adoration to transform opponents into stone." (https://onepiece.fandom.com/wiki/Mero_Mero_no_Mi)

Those abilities have been showcased when Hancock first refused to partake in the upcoming war against Whitebeard and turned all marine's on the Navy ship to stone. Oddly enough, when she used the "Love-Love Mellow" on Luffy, he came out of it completely unaffected. Not to mention that he saw Boa's naked body and had no reaction to it either.

The Strawhat's behaviour had confused many viewers, when he showed a reaction to Nami's body being exposed twice, and this is what Oda said about it in a Q&A:

"He's interested, but he's not entranced by her."

People can be interested in other people without the sexual or romantic attraction coming in. Hell, people usually find people interesting due to their personalities and want to get to know each other out of platonic interest! Or it's the style they wear, which would fall under the 'aesthetic attraction' department.

In other words: Just because you are interested in someone, doesn't automatically mean you want to fuck or date them.

"But when he's with Usopp, who's the same age, it's like a kid on a school trip: His bad side comes out! Yeah, both sides of Luffy feel right to me, so the culprit is definitely Usopp!"

Usopp and Luffy are almost always together in several shenanigans. Usopp usually serves as comical relief and likes to form the comedic trio together with the captain and the ship's doctor Chopper. Hence the description of Luffy as a 'kid on a school trip'. He copies the sniper's behaviour in both instances where Nami's body is exposed to them, that's it. There is nothing more to it.

I would like to add one more thing: Love comes in all shapes and sizes. I've been picking up comments on various platforms that Luffy is 'too naive' when it comes to love. That may be true to an extent, but that doesn't mean he is incapable of it. Romantic and sexual attraction are off the table, but he does know the concept of love. Just in a platonic way. He loves his crew and he loves his brothers, even though they are not blood-related.

This is where the concept of 'found family' comes into play, and it is true for both Luffy's brothers and the crew. To the Strawhat, they are all family. And that is perfectly alright. Getting married and placing kids in this world does not have to be the ultimate goal. The ultimate goal can be anything, as long as it makes the individual happy.

In conclusion, Luffy can be considered as aro-ace, but we will never know for sure whether or not this will be canon. Oda had never confirmed or denied his orientation, which leaves it up for interpretation. For some people, Luffy will be considered straight, for others not. And that's okay. As long as we can discuss this civilly, no harm will come out of it.

With this said, I will end this post here. I hope you have a great day!

#Youtube #one piece #luffy headcanons #mugiwara no luffy #monkey d. luffy #asexual #aromantic #ace pride #aro pride #aro/ace #pride month

[madchild-dennis]

I like to keep my word. So when I said it will be my last post. I meant that shit:

Unfortunately due to events I felt I need to re/overemphasize some things.

Like I said I am NOT friends with Rhona and I'm NOT interested in one until AFTER she and her son are READY to do what God say. Which means her son is going to take up the responsibility God placed on him based on HIS DESIRES and God's plan.

Like I said here:

If Raheem hasn't done what God asks & take up the responsibility. Then I have ABSOLUTELY NO interest in being friends with his mother. As I said in this snippet:

So as I attempted to tell her by starting with the fact that I lost tonns of respect for her and didn't like what she did. The point is I am NOT friends with her. Not interested in it nor will I engage in ANY conversation about ANYTHING UNTIL AFTER Raheem obeys God. I'm NOT changing my mind. As I said, I don't care. AFTER THAT then I'll be on good terms with his mother. I could have done so today if I wanted to. Which would make certain that he's basically mine. NOPE!!! What kind of weak-ass mama's boy is that.

I am NOT going to be with nor MARRY a weakass BOY. I still have a choice.

Even his mother showed more balls and gawl. I absolutely respect it. I mean she planned a whole THING. I'm pretty sure its so that I can get a lil funds and can be accessible to her when she ready to talk. Even I played along to see what she'd do. She did humble herself and put her pride aside. But STILL didn't do what GOD ask. She literally looked like an opportunist. Asking if "I'd NEVER plan to go back to Canada. Not even to visit." I didn't answer because those conversations are reserved for friends. She's NOT one until her son get BALLS, gawls, obey and more. Which I attempted to re-emphasize that stance.

If only he inherited that. NOPE!

Funny story:

While still involved in her lil plan (a day job orchestrated with her friend) after Rhona left. I thought I heard rain. I was just about to ask the next person who approached the area if it was raining. When the person FINALLY came in my clear view (I'm blind & need glasses, so I didn't realize), I saw him the person approaching was Raheem. Mi frighten. Not scared but I was just about to open my mouth 😅😅😅. So I calmed especially after I noticed that he noticed my expression. He made a smirk like he does thinking I'm affected by him. Clueless what I nearly did. Anyway, I calmed and went back to typing this. Which I'm sure he saw too and reason he left in a hurry with his no-balls-self. Well that's if his mom sent him and/or he wanted to. Because he went a different area than he normally would and didn't seem to actually do ANYTHING other than pass me and go upstairs, then back down and gone

Anyways.

While they play their games. Plus try to see if they can contain or shelf me somewhere I'm at reach to them but ONLY when they feel like it. I already have my plans. Where they will NOT have access to me at all. Things are ALREADY in place. So one can plot and plan and the other play chicken till they loose me.

Plus, so fucking what if I get loud. Get fucking over it. You hurt me I am not emotionless. So fucking apologize AT LEAST, if you actually care. If you want me to apologize for things I said, then ask. But it's as simple as THAT!!!

Anyway as I said:

Repeat loudly after me: God is a LIAR #GodisaLIAR

[solreefs]

In other news I think my mom knows I’m asexual

#long story short I checked out the 57 bus from the library and she read it before me #and it’s got a glossary of terms for gender and sexuality and stuff #including asexuality #keep in mind that I have never wanted to get married nor really expressed interest in a relationship #and the book defines asexual as “not interested in having sex” #which is a very oversimplified explanation but isn’t exactly WRONG per se #so she showed it to me and I said I already knew about that #and kind of dodged her questions about whether or not I feel this way #oh! #and she may or may not also suspect that I’m nonbinary #(genuinely not sure on this one though) #the main character is agender and she asked me if I ever felt that way #I said I didn’t have an answer #she’s supportive and means well #but it was just a lot at once #you know? #tw mother #tw parents #ask to tag #Ann rambles

[radioactivesweet]

Alright this was requested by myself because Roland my beloved deserves the world

Btw I still have a lot of Vanitas no Carte related requests that I’ll try to write as soon as I can!

Tea prompts

500 followers event (requests closed)

lemon tea; what are mornings like with them?

Roland wakes up early, because of hid duty as a chasseur, but will try to spend as much time as possible by your side before he has to go. He will stare for a while at your sleepy face, as the first rays of sunshine gently caress you. He will thank you first, for being there with him, and then he will thank God for letting you meet him.

peppermint tea; what do they get excited about?

Roland gets excited for everything as long as it means that you get to spend his free time together. He will let you lead him trough the streets of Paris, laughing while holding your hand. He feels that childish happinnes only kids can express and loves it.

chamomile tea; what is their sleep schedule like? does it change around their s/o?

Roland stays usually up until late – often doesn't even go to sleep – depending on the amount of work left to do. But since you are waiting for him, he will ask Olivier to help him out. Despite trying to stay awake a little more, he will hopelessly fall asleep once you are holding him between your arms.

earl grey tea; how did they court their s/o?

You immediately caught his attention, therefore he asked you out as soon as he got the chance – without appearing as clingy or annoying, because he didn't want to make you run away despite his energetic approach. Whenever he meets you, he will offer you flowers, sweets or anything he knows you might like and won't waste a single chance to praise you and complimenting your qualities.

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

Roland is a passionate man and – as soon as you are alone – he will pull you closer for a kiss. He will avoid doing it in public because he doesn't want to show it in front of his colleagues or eventual enemies.

coffee; do they get jealous easily? how do they show it?

Roland doesn't get often jealous – he wholeheartedly trusts you – and isn't usually bothered at all, unless he notices that you are the one being bothered by someone else. Despite his friendly attitude, Roland can be scary and won't hesitate to show it if somebody crossed the line.

rosehip tea; how romantic are they? how do they show affection?

When you are on your own, without anybody else around, Roland will get pretty touchy, hugging and kissing you – if you are comfortable with it – and sometimes he may get emotional too, wondering how he could end up with someone like you.

black tea; what do they look for in a person?

Roland looks for someone who can keep up with him, who is flexible depending on the situation, who knows to be as cheerful as him but serious when the situation requires it. He would rather someone open minded too and who doesn't see the world only in black and white, but all the shades of grey too.

pomegranate tea; at what point did they know they loved their s/o?

Roland once came home from a mission and you were the one who welcomed him. Far from his family, he grown used to be alone but you were waiting for him. He got so happy he started crying and hugged you.

matcha tea; how and when do they propose to their s/o?

After another mission – during which he got injured – Roland decided that he had to marry you before it was too late; he would have never forgiven himself if he hadn't had the chance to propose to you properly, so as soon as he could stand on his feet, but still covered in bandages, he reached out to you and asked you to marry him – while you were telling him to go get some rest.

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

Roland knows what you want – sometimes you wonder if he can read your mind – but loves to make you, well, pray. He will use his job as a chasseur to make you beg for him – but will probably stop sooner, since his whishes are the same as yours.

hibiscus tea; what’s their favourite place to take their s/o?

As weird as it may sound, he loves bringing you around the catacombs. He know them well and it's one of the few places where you can spend some time alone when he is working. He also know a lot about its history, so you can learn tons of interesting facts from him.

green tea; how do they comfort their s/o? 

Roland will wipe away your tears – if you are crying – and ask for a day off. It's not responsible of him to quit his job this way, but you are more relevant to him than anything else and, if this is something that can comfort you, he is here to make sure you'll know how much you precious and valuable to him and how you light up his world.

russian caravan tea; how experienced are they with relationships?

Roland is quite the heartbreaker – unitentionally – and is far more experienced than what his acquaitances may think. He had lot of short term relationships but has never really been in love nor deeply involved with anybody.

english breakfast tea; would they want a family?

Once he will have been disposed from his work as a chasseur, he would like to move to the countryside and have a family! He wouldn't mind a lot of children running around the house. But because of his work, he can't guarantee he you his precence and would definitely rather wait. He is also scared he might not come home and would regret leaving you alone with a child.

rooibos tea; what’s their favourite thing to do with their s/o?

When he has some time off, he loves spending time in the library after the sunset, when the other chasseurs are either working, sleeping or getting drunk around the city. He craves those quiet moments he can spend with you. Often you don't even speak, but the fact that you are with him it's enough to make him happy.

#roland fortis #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas no shuki #les memoires de vanitas #vnc #roland fortis x reader #vanitas no carte x reader #the case study of vanitas x reader #vnc x reader

[freddie-weaselbee]

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.��

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #wedding #enemies to lovers

[robininthelabyrinth]

Sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moments of physical contact can occasionally forge long-term telepathic bonds between cultivators. These bonds are usually based on positive emotions like familial or romantic love, or deep feelings of friendship, but the emotions don’t necessarily have to be positive to forge a bond. Wei Wuxian is very upset to find out that punching Jin Zixuan in the face apparently counts as a sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moment of physical contact.

on ao3

Wei Wuxian had been obsessed with the idea of a resonant bond ever since he first learned about it.

Sure, it was a rarity. It was easier for a cultivator to find a friend, a lover, or even a soulmate than it was for them to create a resonant bond, which required not merely liking or understanding or even love but rather a single moment in time in which two cultivators were on exactly the same wavelength.

Their cultivation strength, their frame of mind, the state of their bodies, the exact way in which they touched – in that one moment, everything would be exactly the same, and the Heavens would forget for that brief moment to see the two as separate, like two separate raindrops merging into one before the moment passed, some difference introduced, and they were broken apart into separate beings again. Yet even after they separated, they would irrevocably retain some aspects of the other, a connection that generally manifested, it was said, as a mental bond that could not be broken, a tie that would keep them bound together no matter the distance.

Such a thing could not be worked towards, only hoped for; it was a matter of luck.

Wei Wuxian had never wanted anything more in his life.

The thought of never being alone again – it enticed him, it excited him. Jiang Cheng could wrinkle his nose in distaste at the idea that he might not be alone in his mind anymore, that someone would see all the stupid or terrible things he sometimes thought, but to Wei Wuxian that was the best part: that someone would see you and know you and you would see and know them, too. To have someone to accompany you through the best and worst moments of your life, always at your side…

To never fear abandonment, to never need to worry about someone going out only for a little and then never coming back.

It would be amazing.

That was what Wei Wuxian thought.

Well, that was what he thought right up until he punched Jin Zixuan in the face for insulting his shijie, his whole heart burning at the unfairness of adults who didn’t understand, at other boys who didn’t appreciate what they had, at everything all around them and at his own weakness in not being able to do more, and something just –

Clicked.

-

“Hey, wake up! Wake up! Are you all right?”

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, only to be assaulted with what felt like double vision. Above him were Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, hovering and looking anxious, and from the corner of his eye he could see Lan Wangji, who he so enjoyed teasing, was sweeping over to them with a grim expression – and yet at the same time he thought he could perceive different faces above him as well.

Three young men and two women, all looking down at him with smiles like sharks, ready to devour. Each one of them draped in the gold they lusted to take from his hands –

What the fuck? Wei Wuxian thought groggily. How did I end up on the ground?

Good question. I didn’t think I got punched that hard.

Wait, Wei Wuxian thought. Hold up, I got punched? I didn’t even see the peacock lift his fists!

…Wei Wuxian? Is that – you?

Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide when he realized he hadn’t said any of that out loud, that to judge from Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s chatter they hadn’t heard either him nor the other voice. Which meant that the voice had to be...in his head. Is this – this is a resonant bond. We formed a resonant bond!

Shit, Jin Zixuan thought, because it was Jin Zixuan, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t say anything about this to anyone!

What? Why?

Please!

Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known that the peacock knew that word.

Fine, he said, feeling generous on account of the whole bond business. I won’t tell. For now.

“Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking worriedly fretful. “Are you all right? You haven’t said anything.”

“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his head and trying to think of a lie to explain why he fell over like that. “I think the peacock must’ve had a talisman or a defensive weapon or something. Whatever it is, I’m fine now.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re all right,” Jiang Cheng said, looking deeply relieved. And then, a moment later – “Because I’m going to kill you - !”

There wasn’t too much time to talk after that. Wei Wuxian was sentenced to kneeling, and then his Uncle Jiang arrived and Sect Leader Jin arrived – oh no, oh no, oh no, I fucked up, Jin Zixuan thought hopelessly, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel a bit of the same – and the next thing Wei Wuxian knew, the engagement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli was broken and he was being sent to pack up his things, to be taken home at once.

Jin Zixuan was swept away by his father, too.

“A pity about the engagement,” Sect Leader Jin remarked idly as they walked together. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have said such a thing. Your mother will be disappointed.”

Wei Wuxian could feel the way that that jabbed at Jin Zixuan’s heart like a stab with a sword.

“Still, it’s no harm,” the man continued, indifferently ignoring the impact his words had had on his son. “One could even call it a gain! You won’t be burdened down with that shrew’s daughter anymore.”

That what?!

Tune out of this conversation, please, Jin Zixuan said, his thoughts dull and sluggish and resigned. It’s going to get worse from here on out.

It did.

Sect Leader Jin commented at some great length about his views on Madame Yu’s many faults – her temper, her strength, her nosiness, her thought that she was worth anything other than a pair of legs and an inheritance – and contrasted it with some salacious comments on her positive traits – mostly the legs, with a few comments on the upper half as well – and then he started speculating about Jiang Yanli, too, in a way that made Wei Wuxian’s blood boil.

It’s not about her, Jin Zixuan told him, his voice a little desperate in a familiar way – he was used to having to defend his father, and just as obviously didn’t want to. He’s building up a defense.

What?

For my mother. She’ll be angry at him for agreeing to break the engagement, so he’ll say that it was my idea, say all this stuff, and then she’ll be angry at me for believing it, instead, even though I don’t. This isn’t what I wanted at all.

Wei Wuxian frowned. You wanted to marry my shijie? You sure didn’t show it!

No, I just didn’t want to marry anybody, Jin Zixuan said, and…okay, fine, that was a pretty respectable position. Wei Wuxian didn’t particularly want to marry anyone yet, either. I just got angry when everyone was talking about how it was a done deal, that’s all. Just one more thing that got picked for me.

Wei Wuxian had heard Jiang Cheng complain about similar enough things – how much of his life was selected in advance, how much was organized for the benefit of his sect rather than his own interests, how little choice he got. How even if he’d been as good as Wei Wuxian, or even better, he still wouldn’t have been able to go out and hunt pheasants all day the way Wei Wuxian did.

He refused to feel sympathy. Well, you shouldn’t have taken it out on my shijie!

Probably not. Jin Zixuan was silent for a moment. It probably doesn’t help, but I’m sorry for my rudeness.

Wei Wuxian hated it when people were reasonable. It made it so much harder to stay angry at them.

Are you going to tell me why I can’t tell people about this bond yet? he asked. You’d better have a good reason, I had to put up with an entire scolding from Jiang Cheng because I didn’t have a good excuse!

Later tonight. I promise.

That night, Wei Wuxian excused himself early and hid himself in his room on the boat. He knew that he was giving both Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng the impression that he was feeling deeply guilty about having broken the engagement, thereby making them feel bad about it, which he didn’t intend, but he really wanted to hear the reason. If it wasn’t good enough, he’d really break Jin Zixuan’s nose this time!

It really is a good reason!

Well, then? If it’s so good, don’t keep me in suspense!

Jin Zixuan sighed. Wei Wuxian felt it like an exhalation on his cheek, as if Jin Zixuan were right there beside him. You know how a resonant bond is supposed to be equal?

What do you mean ‘supposed to be’? Wei Wuxian asked, and felt something cold in his belly.

There are forbidden techniques, ancient ones, that are designed to manipulate a resonant bond into an unequal state. To make one side the master and the other the slave.

That’s disgusting!

If we told anyone, my father would find a way to get one, Jin Zixuan said, and he wasn’t guessing. His voice was utterly certain. There’s very little money can’t buy, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the idea of having a spy in the very heart of the Jiang clan.

Well, then just don’t tell him!

Just like I didn’t tell him about what I said about your shijie?

Wei Wuxian got tripped up by that. It was true, Jin Zixuan hadn’t said a word about what had happened, and yet his father had already known every last detail. How..?

One of my ‘friends’ told him, of course. Probably more than one, actually – I wouldn’t be surprised if they all passed it along. It’s what he pays them for.

He pays for your friends to spy on you?!

I already told you that there’s little money can’t buy. Why not friends?

I wouldn’t be friends with people who accepted money to spy on me. Why do you?

If it’s not this set, it’ll be another, and it’s all the same. If they won’t be bought, then I can’t be friends with them…anyway, I’ve gotten used to these ones.

All of them? Wei Wuxian asked. Even Mianmian? She didn’t seem the type…

Her name is Luo Qingyang, and yes. Her parents are sick and my father’s paying for the treatment; if she doesn’t tell him everything, he’ll cut off funds…she told me about it, though. Said that if there was ever a time that I wanted her to ‘forget’ to report something, she could do that. That’s more than most would do, and probably about as much as anyone can expect –

Have you ever had a friend that wasn’t bought? Wei Wuxian asked. I mean…ever?

Jin Zixuan was silent.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Well, I guess you have me now, Wei Wuxian thought, with only a tiny amount of self-pity for the stupidity of agreeing to be friends with Jin Zixuan. Still, if he’d survived his efforts at being Lan Wangji’s friend, he could survive anything. No one’s going to buy me!

But –

Nope! No take-backs! We have a resonant bond, peacock. You think I’m going to waste a gift from the Heavens like this just because it’s with you? You’ve got another thing coming!

…can you at least stop calling me a peacock?!

-

Madame Yu made her displeasure clear enough when Wei Wuxian returned, ordering him to kneel all night and do every available chore and things like that, but Wei Wuxian didn’t take it to heart – he never did, really.

Like Jiang Cheng, Madame Yu’s bark was worse than her bite: for all that she hissed and spat and punished him with kneeling or holding up weights, she’d never denied him resources, kept him back from training, or even denied him the spot of head disciple to promote another less qualified in his place, which she very well might have if she were a bit pettier.

So he didn’t take it personally, even if Jin Zixuan seemed indignant on his behalf – you were defending her daughter! You’d think she’d give you some leeway for that, at least! – and at any rate it was better than Jin Zixuan’s slow meandering way home, with his father disappearing every night into a brothel or the bedroom of some innkeeper’s daughter or something like that.

It was better than Jin Zixuan’s mother’s reaction, too, which was to scream and shout and say vicious nasty things, to smash plates and vases against the walls right over his head, and then to pull him into her arms and make him promise over and over again that he would never betray her.

I think I suffered more in terms of physical exertion, but you get full points for all the emotional devastation, Wei Wuxian said after Jin Zixuan returned to hide in his bedroom. Does she do that a lot?

All the time, Jin Zixuan said. All the fucking time.

After a moment, he added, guiltily, It’s only that she loves me –

Ugh, don’t even start with that, Wei Wuxian said. Complaining about awful parent-related trauma is boring, I get enough of it from Jiang Cheng. Help me figure out what I should do tomorrow: flying kites, swimming, or hunting pheasants? Oh, or fishing!

…seriously? Do you spend any time cultivating?

Oh, come on. It’s my first day back!

That just means you have more you need to catch up on!

-

Your shijie is really nice.

I told you!

You didn’t! You just hit me!

-

Wei Wuxian loved having a resonant bond.

Sure, it wasn’t with someone useful like Jiang Cheng or even wonderful like Lan Wangji – I can hear you, you know – but it was kind of nice to have someone to complain to when it would be awkward to put it onto Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli.

The other half being Jin Zixuan was also not as bad as he had first thought it would be. Sure, he was just as spoiled, arrogant, vain, and deeply cynical about human nature as Wei Wuxian had thought – I can still hear you! – but he was also an awkward introvert with no social skills and an over-active guilt complex – fuck you too, Wei Wuxian – and, in the sum total of things, surprisingly tolerable. Thanks? I think?

It’d certainly made the indoctrination camp more tolerable, even if it did mean having two people talking in his ear about how he needed to think more about the consequences of his actions and how it might reflect on his sect, and certainly having Jin Zixuan confirming that the other disciples had made it out of the cave and were moving at full speed to try to get help made the days he was waiting with Lan Wangji a lot less stressful, and their ensuing rescue a lot easier.

But sometimes –

This is a terrible idea! You can’t do it!

You don’t get a say! Wei Wuxian snarled. This is my decision.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said. A moment later, quieter: Is this because I couldn’t make it to you in time to help?

Wei Wuxian swallowed, feeling his eyes burn. The Wen attack was a surprise to everyone, he said. Even if you were able to convince your father to let you go help with everyone you had, it wouldn’t – you wouldn’t have made it in time to do anything.

After his father had refused, Jin Zixuan had snuck out of Jinlin Tower through what he’d thought was a secret passage and tried to go anyway, only to be caught and dragged back. Wei Wuxian appreciated the effort, even if it didn’t make a difference in the end.

When they were on the run from the Wen sect, after, Jin Zixuan had encouraged Wei Wuxian to head to Lanling, swearing that he wouldn’t allow anyone to turn them over to the Wen sect, but they hadn’t gotten that far.

And now…

It’s my choice, Wei Wuxian said. You don’t get a say.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said again, but his voice was softer. Fine. But I’m here for you.

Wei Wuxian smiled, just a little bit, and told to Wen Qing to start.

-

I’m going to murder my father, Jin Zixuan said, conversationally. And then go to the hell reserved for patricides and be reborn as a chicken right before slaughter.

For shame, Wei Wuxian said. Not even a lamb or a goat?

No, I want to be able to bite someone and mean it, and chickens are better at that than goats.

Wei Wuxian giggled, a little hysterically. It’s fine, he said, looking around the Burial Mounds. It’s fine that he won’t let you come to my rescue immediately. Not like I’m going anywhere.

He’d thought – they’d both thought – that the resonant bond would break or maybe transfer to Jiang Cheng along with Wei Wuxian’s golden core, but it hadn’t.

Wei Wuxian had been depressingly grateful for it, for the by now familiar Lanling cadence of Jin Zixuan in his head. It made the horrible quiet empty of the Burial Mounds a little more tolerable, a little less awful.

Anyway, he said briskly, shaking off his terror at being here alone but for the voice in his head. I have an idea…

-

I feel like if I knew Chifeng-zun looked like that I would’ve made befriending Nie Huaisang more of a priority when I was younger.

I know, right? Wei Wuxian thought back. Just…wow.

A moment later, he added, a little irritably, I thought you were into my shijie again?

I am! I’m allowed to have eyes, okay?

Not if you’re surnamed Jin you aren’t.

Fuck you.

Nope. And Chifeng-zun isn’t going to, either.

He could feel Jin Zixuan rolling his eyes. I don’t even want him to, I was really just looking. Anyway, how’s Lan Wangji doing?

Lan Zhan? He’s – well, he’s always bothering me about going back to Gusu with him, talking about how my demonic cultivation is dangerous to me, but oh, you should have seen him when he joins us to fight..! You can forgive anything, really, just to watch him move – Wei Wuxian paused. Wait, why are you asking?

No reason.

Jin Zixuan! You tell me this instant -

-

Jin Zixuan was locking Wei Wuxian out of his head again.

It was a technique they’d worked on developing together – with some assistance from Wei Wuxian’s brilliance and Jin Zixuan’s ability to find and purchase extremely rare reference texts, whether on resonant bonds or just more generally, including when Wei Wuxian had needed some help figuring out some things about demonic cultivation while trapped on the Burial Mounds – as it had become moderately urgent following Jin Zixuan’s first spring dream involving Jiang Yanli, and even more so once he’d decided that he really did want to marry her, actually, if she’d be willing to have him.

There were some things Wei Wuxian did not need to know about his shijie.

Still, it was unusual for him to block him during the day. One might even call it suspicious.

I’m sorry, Jin Zixuan said abruptly. It had to be done, and you weren’t going to do it.

Huh? What are you talking about…?

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian turned, surprised. His shidi’s eyes were red as if he’d been crying, and he ran up and pulled him into his arms. “Wei Wuxian…!”

“What?” he asked, puzzled. “What’s this about…?”

“How could you?!” Jiang Cheng demanded, weeping into his neck. “You should have told me – you had no right to – to give me – Wei Wuxian!”

Wei Wuxian’s back went stiff. You didn’t!

It was the truth or you getting kicked out of your sect! He needed to know!

Fuck you! It wasn’t your choice to make!

I’m not going to stand by and let you get schemed against, Jin Zixuan said. Certainly not by my own father. I won’t!

I’m going to make you pay for this, Wei Wuxian said darkly, then looked down at Jiang Cheng in his arms. And possibly thank you for it. But I’m definitely going to make you pay!

-

This may sound weird, Jin Zixuan said. But I think I’m being poisoned.

Based on what I know about Lanling Jin sect and its politics, it’s not weird at all, Wei Wuxian said instinctively, then frowned. Are you serious? It’s not just baby fatigue or something?

That’s what I thought at first, too. But now I’m not so sure. He was silent for a moment. I don’t want to sound like my mother, but…

You think it’s Lianfeng-zun? I’m not saying he doesn’t have the most motive for it, but do you really think..? He seems so nice.

He is, most of the time. Jin Zixuan sighed. Maybe I really am just tired.

Wei Wuxian didn’t think so. He’d had a half-dozen years of listening to the backstabbing, vicious world of Jinlin Tower under his belt by now – had fought bitterly in the war only to fight even more bitterly for something like the right to attend his own shijie’s wedding, something that ought to have been his by right – had nearly suffered an ambush when he tried to attend Jin Ling’s first month party, with Jin Zixun attacking him and Wen Ning going unexpectedly crazy and Jin Zixuan rushing over as fast as he could to make them all stop. If he hadn’t already known about Jin Zixuan not knowing about this, if he hadn’t felt something go wrong and thrown himself in between them without thinking, Jin Zixuan might’ve died there and then on the Qiongqi path.

If Jin Zixuan thought he was being poisoned, he was probably being poisoned.

I’ll come visit you and look into it, Wei Wuxian said. We can pretend that I’m there to visit shijie.

They’d long ago confessed the truth to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, of course. For some reason, neither had looked all that surprised.

With your reputation, even if you figured something out, who’d believe you? Jin Zixuan asked. Ask Hanguang-jun if he’ll come, his reputation will bear up.

Lan Zhan? Sure! I’m always happy to work with him. But you know, he’s been ignoring me recently…I don’t know why…

Tell him about the resonant bond.

What? I thought we were still keeping it a secret.

Tell him. He doesn’t tell anyone anything.

Good point, I guess. You think that’ll help him stop ignoring me?

Yes.

Wei Wuxian generally trusted Jin Zixuan’s reading of people, now that he was mature enough not to let his personal feelings cloud his judgment. All right, I will. Can you tell me why?

You’ll find out when you tell him.

Unhelpful.

Noted and ignored.

Fuck you.

Yeah, you too. See you soon.

-

Jin Zixuan?

Yeah?

Thank you for my love life, but also, FUCK YOU.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #jin zixuan #my fic #my fics #resonant bond #this one is set in the untamed but only barely #lesbianjinzixuan

[dreamingofaizawa]

Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

*

*

*

25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath. 

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways. 

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence. 

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed. 

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again. 

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank. 

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued. 

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom. 

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt. 

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more. 

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching. 

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa #mafia au bnha #mafia au mha #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader

[otomegema]

title: Convergence Theory pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don't even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: Mature for now, explicit later most likely because WHY NOT tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own

August, 2005.

That summer had been oppressively warm, a layer of heat trapped beneath a layer of moisture that made even the light fabric of your yukata stick to your sides. It was the kind of weather that made your body beg for relief, to lay shivering and sweltering under the barest breath of cool air.

Your mother had opened the outside screens in the room, letting you sit on the porch overlooking the small garden at the center of the expansive, traditional home. The view was lovely, overlooking a manicured garden, a small koi pond bubbling pleasantly even as the night air chirped with the sounds of insects.

The main house was equipped with air conditioners in some of the rooms— just like your parent’s own home, only a short distance away, but somehow so far removed from the atmosphere of this place it felt miles away. Centuries. The clock on the wall seemed suspended in time, halted too by the weight that fell over this place.

There was nothing to be done. When the head of the Gojo family called, even the smallest vine, hanging from the tiniest branch, curled in. Your great grandmother had bore the Gojo name before she married, a detail of minor significance that had not effected your own family until your birth. You had often heard your parents discussing the main family in hushed voices when they thought you were not listening. First with excitement and eagerness and then with worry.

There had been a phone call, an order disguised as invitation.

Gojo Satoru, heir to the name, barer of the Six Eyes, was turning sixteen in December, a scant four months away.

Six Eyes. Two words that managed to leave the bitterest taste of bile in your throat.

It had been thought the next Six Eyes would be born in your generation, your parents hopeful at one point that you were the one so blessed. A hundred years of waiting ended by the birth of another child, honored above all other sorcerers. Your had been born with the Limitless, that much was certain and an extra unnaturally keen ability of foresight… the signs were there. The possibility that the the massive potential of the Limitless was within your grasp if you could only prove to possess the fabled Six Eyes…

You were hailed for a short time as possibly a true child of the Gojo blood, a blessing. A boon. And then not even a short year later that boy was tested. No two Six Eyes could exist and it was him, not you, who was truly blessed.

You ran your hands up the back of your neck, dislodging the hair stuck your heated skin.

And worse yet, now you would suffer the indignity of being paraded around with every other eligible girl with a single drop of Gojo blood diluted enough to be proper for marriage.

Gojo Satoru needed a betrothed and only the best would do, naturally.

You were to be polite, courteous and docile. Laugh at his jokes, bat your eyes. Play the role of the pursued for the pursuer.

Did you even want to be selected? Once hailed as the promised child, now degraded to probable broodmare ?

You sucked your teeth, holding back a feral shriek somewhere deep in your throat. There was a knock on the wooden frame of the room, lazy and slow. The door slid open before your mother could get you to return inside to the low tables and too hot tea laid out.

You were all but deaf to the sounds of stilted, forced polite conversation, but could not ignore the sudden presence of a young man who came to sit down hard at your side.

Gojo Satoru was not an unattractive young man. He had the signature Gojo coloring, his eyelashes even as pale as driven snow. You yourself had even inherited two streaks of white in your hair, framed near your face and standing in contrast against the rest.

But that handsomeness was hard to enjoy when his expression was one of such utter indifference. He did not even bother to remove the dark glasses that shaded over his eyes, but you hardly were offended. It would have been all the worse to have to look at the very thing you coveted most in this world. Taunting you. Dismissing you.

How many girls had he been forced to sit with today? Judging by his bored expression, too many.

“This is the part where you tell me your name.” He said, voice amused, yet slightly condescending. Behind you both, his parents spoke with your own, but that too was part of the charade. All eyes were on you. All ears tuned to your words.

“You know my name.” You said with a thinly veiled sigh. His attention shifted just a fraction and you noticed with an indignant flush he was wearing his school uniform. Shirt untucked, jacket unbuttoned. You had been forced to spend hours getting ready for this meet-up.

He tilted down his glasses to give you a halfway appraising look and you turned away.

“Goin’ for the aloof angle then? Some other girls tried it too. As if you pretend hard enough that you aren’t interested somehow I will be.”

How fucking arrogant.

Your fists clenched in your lap.

“It won’t work.”

“I’m not working any ‘angle’.” You grumbled, “I was told to be here so I’m here. That’s all.”

“You expect me to believe that, huh?”

“I don’t care what you believe.” You spat back, turning to shoot him a piercing glare.

There was silence then, even the voices behind you seeming to falter and lower as if worried they were missing out on some secret hushed conversation.

“Ohhh, wait. I remember now! I do know your name.” Gojo continued, taking off his sunglasses and wiping off some smudge or dust from the lens, “Aren’t you that girl they thought was gonna have the Six Eyes in her?”

Your fist clenched tighter.

“I get it now. Sour grapes and all. Tell ya what…” he spoke softer and leaned in until you felt his breath against your ear, “If you ask me really nicely, for one night, you still could."

The only sound that came after that was the harsh strike of skin against skin. The contact of your palm connecting to his cheek stunned not just the adults inside, but you.

No self respecting sorcerer with the Limitless ability would have been taken by surprise and yet here you sat, having successfully struck the heir to the Gojo name right across his smug face.

You drew your hand back. His pale cheek had turned a throbbing red so quickly, his smirk raised as his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and revealed how his blue eyes danced with open amusement.

***

September, 2017.

The uproar that followed that moment twelve years ago had been profound. Your parents had spent the remainder of the visit profusely apologizing and demanding explanations… and the entire time Gojo had stared only at you. Blue eyes wide and engulfing, a smirk etched in the corner of his mouth even as he got up and strode out without another word.

You remembered he had whistled as he went. As if it were all according to plan.

No betrothal was agreed to that night nor any night since. You were never summoned to the main house again.

It had been the most freeing moment of your young life, opening the world from the one pinpointed hope you’d be born with the Six Eyes or wed to the one who had it into a kaleidoscope of possibility.

You attended Jujutsu Tech’s Kyoto branch, keeping far out of the way of the rising star of the Gojo clan.

Well.

Sorta.

So the problem with having an inherited technique that allowed you to “see” curses and cursed energy users from great distances? Gojo Satoru. The man was such an expansive supernova of energy that when you opened your mind and utilized your gift of telemetry to try and pinpoint targets you had to navigate around his massive, dominating aura.

It was like counting stars against a sunlit sky. The ability, that should have been astronomically useful, rendered inert if Gojo Satoru was on the field.

You tried not to have your own missions line up with his. Which meant keeping tabs on him. Which meant having to live with this gnat, this buzzing fly of cursed bullshit constantly humming in the background when you used your gifts.

You wished everyday you had swatted him harder.

Missions in Tokyo were the worst, but you accepted them without complaint. The fact you’d even managed to rise to second grade despite your public humiliation of the main family’s golden child was a miracle in itself and not one you would squander.

The task was simply. There was a cursed entity that was utilizing the signal within electric devices of all things to move from device to device, rapid as an electrical pulse. It had already killed five non-sorcerers in surge related house-fires in two days. The risk of it causing a massive firestorm in any district rising.

The air had begun to cool in Tokyo, the heat of the summer giving way to fall. You sat on a bench, wireless com already clipped to your ear, the only sound so far the faint static of the open radio and the sound of your breath. The air had that crispness already, the bare cusp of autumn. You steadied your thoughts and began to shut down your senses.

The cursed energy of the young sorcerer students around you began to glow in your mind’s eye, the rest of the world fading into shades of imperceptible grey. Blurring. Distorting.

If you had the Six Eyes, you would be able to see it all. But instead, you blinded yourself to everything but the cursed when you utilized your skill.

You shut your eyes and with a soft breath you whispered, “Cursed technique— Limitless Telemetry: Grey.”

The city revealed itself to your five senses like a massive overflowing of information. Had you not taken the time to adjust, quickly shutting down your hearing, sight, taste, smell and touch in order to compensate, the mental load would have stunned you into a comatose state for several hours. Another thing a Six Eyes user would never need to do. You mentally chastised yourself for allowing the distraction of a deprecating thought, and focused instead upon your sixth sense. The one that tracked beyond the physical.

You were effectively helpless in this state, but within your mind you breezed through the city like a thumb pressed over the pages of a book. Flipping at your leisure as you focused in upon the fastest moving pulse of cursed energy.

In your “peripheral vision” or what acted like a sort of peripheral vision, you could sense the constant presence of Gojo. It was far away, diluted. You wondered if perhaps he was overseas for the barest moment until your senses snapped together and fell upon your target.

You spoke. Your words falling on your own deaf ears as you gave the location into the com. You perceived the movement of the three students. Good kids, fast learners. One boy was even a scion of another great house and the one girl among them possessed a cursed technique of extreme value. The other boy, the pink haired one, you had yet to understand, but his cursed energy output was impressive.

The entity moved. You adjusted, giving new instructions. The curse had not yet caught on to the fact it was being tracked, a fact you would use to your advantage as long as possible. If the curse sensed you, it could easily close the distance and attempt to seek you out… which was why sitting in a park, far from any electrical devices other than your battery powered radio was the safest place you could be.

And if worse came to worse, at least it would be drawn out in the open.

The entity jumped again, following the planned route the three had decided upon to box it further and further into a section of the city that they had already prepared to shut down. Without power, the curse would have to break free of its hiding place within the electric current.

How did a curse even get into the power grid? Too many lost football games on TV? You chuckled a bit to yourself without thinking, providing the newest coordinates as you watched, like an omnipresent spectator as the energies of the curse and the students moved.

This is why I score the highest at Pac-Man…

Everything was going according to plan. You had begun to even let your thoughts wonder, your focus softening just the barest fraction as the students rounded the final corner and blocked the curse into the chosen spot.

And now here comes the switch…

You braced for the surge of cursed energy you expected to feel from it’s ejection…but the power stayed on. You had to stifle the sensation of panic that sparked through your heart, your cursed energy rising a fraction.

And there it was. You felt the shift, the sudden adjusting of the entity. The students flared bright, attacking to try and ward off its escape, but without the power shut off they were waiting for, the curse easily vanished, pulsing through the city and heading now straight ahead… to you.

It’s fine. Fine. Nothing electric by me, so no fast travel.

It couldn’t pass through the coms. It would need to branch off into another grounded circuit and then physically come out to face you in the empty park.

You could hold unto the technique a little longer. Guide the students a little longer. You snapped information in quick short terms. Watching the cursed energy approach closer and closer until it reached the last building at the far end of the park.

And then, inexplicably, it jumped again.

The force in which you were propelled did not immediately register to your mind as your senses flickered and began to come back on line one by one.

The first was touch.

And thus pain.

Your muscles contracted, shot full with an electrical pulse. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, the strike coming indirectly as if someone had forced the curse away. Something blinding and bright exploding over the far-reaching vision of your Limitless technique before your ability snapped off like a cut thread.

Your hearing came back first from sheer force of will. Sight returning in blurry, slowly filling shapes. You forced yourself up from the ground, feeling scrapes biting along your palms.

“You fucking dick.” You managed to hiss, your vision returning just in time to witness the exorcism of the curse by none other than Gojo Satoru.

***

“You used me as bait!”

Your voice reverberated off the hallway walls, your mild injuries tended to but your grievances still in desperate need of airing.

You were only comforted by the fact his students had not been involved in the deception, having also thought Gojo was away while they worked under her guidance in the meanwhile. You were no teacher, but you had taken enough students through missions to be adequate at “babysitting”.

Gojo grinned easily, eyes hidden behind his blind fold as he ran a hand up his neck, feigning a bashfulness you knew had not an ounce of genuineness to it.

The bastard had quietly set up a god damn daisy chain of extension cables into the park, ending plugged into a cheap TV set… right next to you. And he’d done it only after you’d entered your Limitless, taking advantage of your lack of senses to literally bait you like a god damn fish hook and then swoop in to destroy the curse.

His students had been a distraction. A means to force the curse into seeking you out and getting into the open where it could not easily run again. It was the most convoluted, infuriatingly, ridiculous brilliant bullshit you had heard in a long while.

“Pretty clever, yeah? I’ve been practicing my multi-layer tactics.”

“That wasn’t a tactic, it was a gamble and a shitty one at that!”

“Yeah, yeah, but did you die?” Gojo asked, tilting his head to the side. His voice was tinged with amusement and you wondered for a moment if he even remembered you and this was some elaborate “gotcha” twelve years in the making… or if this kind of backhanded backstabbing was common place for him.

“It was interesting to see your technique in action. I could probably give you some tips on how to make it more effective, but they’d be pretty useless to— well. You. So I figure I’ll just make the tweaks and practice it myself!”

You stayed silent.

“What did ya call it? Limitless Telemetry?”

You turned and walked in the opposite direction.

“Whoa— hold on.”

Your exit was cut off, the grinning face you wanted nothing more than to connect your fist into coming back into view.

“I’m kidding. Don’t run off and cry now, we got some other business I wanna discuss.”

“If you’re planning on pitching another mission to me, I pass.”

“Nope. Well— yes. But not like this one.”

You sighed, side stepped, and continued around him again.

“I’ll buy you lunch!”

You stopped.

“And maybe even some kakigōriiiiiiii—“ he continued, his voice lifting to a sing-song tone as he stretched out the word. Your stomach twisted and grumbled in response. Using your Limitless always took so much out of you… a side effect you wondered if he experienced to.

You turned to look back at the man who hadn’t so much as glanced your way in years and wondered again if he was so stupid he didn’t remember who you were or if he was hatching some new plot.

He smiled in what you assumed he thought was a disarming and charming way.

“Fine.”

***

You had settled for a sweet plum flavor, dipping your small wooden spoon into the shaved ice and enjoying the way it melted across your tongue. Flavors always felt more pronounced after you used your Limitless, smells more intense. The sights sharper. It was probably just a placebo effect from being without them, even for a short amount of time, but regardless you enjoyed the sweet flavor and the fruity smell of the different syrups… most of which were coming from Gojo’s own cup.

He had gotten every flavor. The shaved ice in his cup a rainbow of color and tastes as he scooped several together at a time.

The lunch he promised had yet to come, but the treat was enough for now as the sugar helped give a little more pep to your body and your mood. The amount of calories you expended using your gifts was another thing entirely.

The two of you walked a ways in silence, giving you time to observe him for the first time in over a decade.

He had changed, that much you could tell. There was something less harsh in his general demeanor and he had grown considerably since he was fifteen. The boyishness of his face had sharpened, the man overtaking his features. He was broader, less lanky than his teenage self and while his easygoing and devil-may-care attitude was still present, there was something less— edged about it. Less angry.

“Your hair is shorter now,” Gojo said suddenly, “And your chest is bigger.”

You immediately frowned. A look of open disgust flashing over your face. Gojo laughed.

“Thought I forgot about ya, didn’t you?” He slid a thumb over his cheek, the gesture making you flush at the memory of what it felt like to slap the smirk off his face.

“Honestly? Yes.” you answered shortly, taking another bite of your ice.

“Nah. I remember, just figured there was no point in makin’ nice. You seem to be doing fine on your own these days. Second grade, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“As short worded as ever.”

He strode off, forcing you to match his pace. He found a park bench and sat down, sprawling out lazily. You sat next to him at his insistence, knocking your knee into his own until he closed his thighs a bit more with a chuckle.

“Thought you’d be a first grade by now.”

“I have not been recommended.”

He snorted, “Bet you know why.”

You clenched your teeth, holding back a sharp word and an even sharper desire to toss your kakigōri right in his face. Arrogant as ever. Some things, you guessed, did not get better with age.

“The great and fabled Six Eyes holding a grudge over a love tap? How trite.” you said, trying to keep your words indifferent.

“Is that what it was? I had a bruise ya know.”

“You could have stopped my hand before it ever even touched you. You wanted me to slap you so you could get out of having to do anymore meetings.”

His laugh was all the confirmation you needed.

“Is that what you’ve thought all this time?”

“It’s what I know.”

Gojo turned his attention back to his shaved ice, the two of you sitting in silence long enough for the weight of it to become uncomfortable for you. Finally you shifted and scrapped your spoon down the ice, leaving trails of melting syrup.

“What is it that you want?” Because that was what this was about wasn’t it? He wanted something. The main family never disdained to speak to the lower members without a need and Gojo Satoru was not about to be the exception.

“I’m going to recommend you for first-grade sorcerer status.”

You scrapped your spoon through so harshly a chunk of colored ice fumbled down the side of the paper cup and down your hand. You dodged just in time to avoid it landing with a wet smack on your pants.

You gaped openly at him, but Gojo kept his attention fixed on his ice, happily stirring it up into a soupy, syrupy mess.

“… and yet again I ask, what is that you want?”

Gojo leaned back, tilting his face towards you with an easy grin. You wondered if he saw the world the way you did with your Limitless with his eyes shaded. Seeing only the impressions of energy and sensation. Could he see your expression? The confusion in the downturn of your mouth or the suspicion in the narrowness of your eyes?

“Nothing too crazy! Just need a fiancée.”

The breath punched out of your lungs.

***

You waited outside the small convenience store across the street, feeling your cheeks beginning to lessen in redness from both anger and embarrassment at your sudden outburst.

When Gojo returned from inside, his hair was still wet… and there was still some redness from the syrup stuck to the strands. You hadn’t been able to control the impulse to throw your kakigōri at him, the breaking of your composure having flowed directly down your arm. It could have been worse, you supposed. You could have punched him.

He had needed to rinse off his blindfold, the fabric now folded and tucked into his back pocket. He had replaced it with the dark glasses you recognized from his youth, giving you a glimpse of the bright blueness of his eyes every once and awhile.

Gojo sighed and tossed a damp paper towel into a bin and turned to you expectantly. You gingerly handed him back his own dessert, having minded it for him while he went into the men’s room to clean up. It was practically soup now and you winced when he lifted it to his lips and drank it.

“As I was saying—“ he began with a smack of his lips.

“No—”

“—it’s a pretend engagement.”

Your mouth hung open, half ready to utter another refusal, which you swallowed back in as he waited expectantly for you to cease interrupting him.

“You let me take you on a few dates, we put on a show of my courting a potential betrothed and in exchange I green light your promotion.”

You narrowed your eyes, biting the corner of your lip into your mouth in obvious consideration.

“For how long?”

Your directness didn’t seem to offend him. Quite the opposite actually. Every time you curtly dropped a single or few word sentence he seemed to only smile brighter.

Gojo shrugged, “A few months. Maybe more. Until I figure out a permanent solution.”

“Your parents want you to get married?”

“The whole clan wants me to get married, sweetheart. I am the strongest.”

And now came the obvious question.

“Why me?”

Gojo shrugged, “You were one of their first picks to start with, so they’ll approve. And there isn’t a risk of you falling for me…”

His lips upturned into a sly grin, “… too quickly.”

You scoffed.

“Family will back off. I get a bit of peace until I have to kick you to the curb, and you get to be a first-class sorcerer. Everyone wins.”

“I’m not going to fall for you.”

Gojo gave a sad little nod, like he was agreeing with a deluded person in order to keep them calm and reasonable.

Granted, you did just effectively hurl a slushy at him a few minutes prior.

“This seems a bit extreme, even for you. Why do you think I’d even say yes? You know exactly why you got slapped. Can I expect that same level of charm from our future ‘dates’?” you asked, kicking yourself for having implied in your words you knew him well enough to even know what was extreme for him. The comment did not go unnoticed, even with his half expression hidden you could tell his interest was piqued. The last thing you wanted to do was to explain to this insufferable man how his very presence was as constant as the sun. Always nagging in the back of your mind and in your abilities.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“That was awhile ago. Most girls find me pretty charming these days. As to why you’d say yes— given it is probably your best chance at getting to first grade sorcerer status, I can’t think of a reason you wouldn’t.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Fifteen year old you would be outraged, furious. She would not have considered this offer for a second. She would have stamped her foot and told him exactly where he could stick his offer.

But twenty-eight year old you had learned that very often principles were made to be damned.

“And the fact I can tell you are just dying to say yes.”

There was that arrogance again.

“You still buying me lunch?” you countered and the smile he gave you was a bit different than the ones before.

“Wow. No one will even question how I could have been charmed by such a talented freeloader.”

“I am exceedingly charming.”

“And what an arm. You play softball or you just start a lot of food fights as a kid?”

“I want sushi.” You said, the finality of your voice inarguable. You thought he might have rolled his eyes, but nevertheless you got your lunch and even managed to bargain a single day to think about the offer.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujustu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x you #IDK WHAT I AM DOING LOL #YOLO

[lancermylove]

Geostigma (Oneshot)

Fandom: FFVII

Pairing: Rufus x fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Ff7 Rufus oneshot request please!!! ACRufus with geostigma. He was once high and mighty but now is a hot shot president who’s fallen from grace. He’s really sick with geostigma (not terminally but needs to act like it is). Scenario of the girl he’s been secretly pining over volunteering at the recovery unit he’s staying at. He’s super conflicted because he wants to talk to her but at the same time doesn’t want her to see him like this. He also doesn’t want to expose his identity as shinras president and doesn’t want to lie to her pretending to be terminally ill with geostigma even though he is legimately suffering from it. What do you think??? Hope this works and makes sense!!! All good if you can’t do it though!!!

A/N: Anon, this was one of the most challenging pieces I’ve written. Keeping Rufus in character while showing his soft side was an enjoyable challenge, so tysm for sending in this request! 😁 I really hope you like it~. 

Word Count: 1967

———————————————

In this place, status didn't matter - the rich, poor, females, males, old, young, and kids were all suffering in equal agony. The stigma didn't discriminate. Shinra had grown tired of seeing the same view every day. White walls, white beds, white machines - who chose this design? He couldn't have been more thankful for the hooded cloak, as the darkness had never felt so comforting. For the longest time, the president only saw the world in two colors, white of the recovery bay and black within his hood. That is until you came around and added color to his colorless world.

After losing a dear friend to the stigma, you became a volunteer at that facility. You had seen your friend suffering and wanted to help others, even if it means only making them smile. Though that may not seem much, you knew a smile meant the world to a person who was suffering. For the longest time, Rufus watched you, curious as to why you wanted to volunteer, considering most volunteers were older men or women and military personnel. You seemed like nothing less than a rose in the middle of a battlefield.

Slowly, he noticed the change in the recovery bay - the atmosphere seemed a lot brighter, even more so than the blinding whiteness of the room. Was it your effect? You brought thoughtful gifts for your patients, made them feel comfortable, and gave them the energy to push through their pain. Were people really like this or were you just an angel?

In Shinra's world, the word kindness didn't exist. His father taught him to control the world with money, but he changed money to fear. After observing you, he realized that even kindness could control the emotions of people. The blond-haired man chuckled to himself - what a twisted way to look at a positive emotion. He was sure if you heard his thoughts, you would hate him.

"Hm?" Shinra was surprised at his revelation. Why did he care what you thought about him? Never once in his life had he cared for what people thought about him - had he cared, he would not have committed such nefarious deeds. How peculiar.

That night as everyone slept, Shinra pushed his wheelchair to the only window in the large room. Though there were no visible stars, the moon shone proudly through a veil of ominous clouds. Rufus wasn't sure why he was having such a difficult time sleeping. Was it the constant throbbing from the infected area, or was it due to the heavy yet sweet pain weighing down on his chest?

"You are still awake?" He heard a shaky voice coming from the bed on his right. The voice belonged to the oldest patient in the room - the man that didn't much time left in this accursed world. 

Shinra didn't reply, prompting the man to continue talking, "Seems like something is bothering you."

"Tell me, have you felt an indescribable feeling that is troublesome yet pleasant?"

The elderly man laughed softly and turned his body towards the wheelchair, "That feeling is generally associated with love."

"I don't have the luxury to love," his dry chuckle echoed inside his hood. "I hail from a world where I am cursed to sit on a throne, surrounded by naught by darkness."

"Child, no one lives in a world like that."

Shinra turned his head slightly in the direction of the man and said, "You would not say such words if you knew my identity."

"You are Rufus Shinra," the old man mumbled under his breath, not wanting any prying ears to hear. "I never agreed with your methods or ways. I also blame your company for harming the Lifestream as well as the people."

He paused for a moment and exhaled softly, "Sitting on a lonely throne surrounded by the dark was your choice. The only way to get rid of the darkness is to open the curtain and let the light flood inside. Take some advice from an experienced old man: love while you have the chance. I know this sounds cliche, but there is nothing better than being with the person you love. Nothing will bring you more joy, not money, manipulation, and sitting on an expensive throne."

"Seems as though you have loved before."

The white-haired man closed his eyes and forced a smile, "I did but never told her. I left gifts and notes for her, and by the time I gathered enough courage, it was too late. She was engaged to someone else."

Shinra didn't need to look at the man to know he was in pain. Another sigh escaped his quivering lips as the he continued his tale, "I eventually got married and was lucky to have a kind wife. Though I learned to love her, I was not able to fully give my heart to her. That is the only regret I have. If only I could tell her how I felt about her..."

"Where is she?" Rufus asked, unsure as to why he was interested in the man's story.

"Somewhere far away," he promptly replied and changed the topic. "Mr. President, give that young woman you love a chance. Even if she rejects you, you won't regret hiding your feeling."

"Would any woman wish to be with a man in my current state?"

"She won't mind, especially if you manage to win her heart. Besides, she is a kind woman, and if she was the type to judge, then she would not be here helping us," he chuckled, knowingly.

Shinra laughed, not caring if his voice woke the others, "You are quite a sharp man."

The old male grinned, "Now, get some rest, and let this aged man sleep."

The following day, as Rufus debated whether or not to tell you, he heard rushing footsteps of the doctors and nurses. Within a few minutes, numerous people gathered around the elderly man's bed - the same man he had a conversation with the previous night. Silence filled the entire room, except for the occasional beeping of the heart monitors.

Shinra watched from under his hood as one of the doctors pulled a white sheet over the man's face before transporting his body out on a stretcher.

"Rest well, old man," he whispered, letting the words disappear into the darkness of his hood.

You dragged yourself into the room with a heavy heart. It didn't take a genius to deduce the reason behind your downcast mood. Rufus quietly watched you trying your best to smile and cheer up the other patients. When you came to check on him, he observed you for a moment before taking hold of your hand. "It's alright to be sad."

You stared at him speechlessly, not only surprised that he saw through your façade but also because this was the first time he spoke to you. Averting your eyes, you whispered in a drained voice, "I can't let the others see me sad."

"I care not for the others...only you."

Your eyes widened by his unexpected words. "W-Why?"

Rufus stayed silent for a bit as he recalled his conversation with the old man.

"Mr. President, give that young woman you love a chance. Even if she rejects you, you won't regret hiding your feeling."

"Would any woman wish to be with a man in my current state?"

"She won't mind, especially if you manage to win her heart. Besides, she is a kind woman, and if she was the type to judge, then she would not be here helping us."

"I have never felt such emotions, nor have I used such words, but," he whispered gently, surprising himself, "I have not met an angel before, but now, I know what an angel would look like. I wish the angel would learn to be selfish though and think about herself once in a while."

A giggle escaped your lips, "Mister, are you flirting with you, or do you like me?"

Shinra chuckled, keeping his head down as to prevent you from seeing his face, "I am merely trying to get you to smile, and it seemed to work. Also, I do not have the luxury to like anyone."

"Why do you say that?" You asked, confused.

"You would not be asking me such a question if you knew my identity."

"Rufus Shinra? The president of the Shinra Electric Power Company?"

Rufus was speechless, an occurrence that didn’t happen often. You gently squeezed his hand to get his attention and asked once again, "Why don't you have the luxury to love?"

"Miss, take a look around you. The Shinras are responsible for this - first my father, then I. Though I possess power and money, I lack a heart," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You were trying to make me smile because I was sad, right? You empathized with me, so that means you have a heart."

Shinra chuckled, "Then let me ask, would you love a man with a dark past? A man who lacks humanity and is selfish."

"Mr. Shinra, are you asking me out?" You teased, not wanting to answer his question at that moment.

"And if I am?"

"Great. Where would you like to go?"

Under his hood, Rufus hid a rare expression - eyes wide, cheeks slightly red, and mouth ajar. Within moments, his laughter echoed through the room, surprising everyone. That was the first time in his life he has laughed openly; had you told him a year ago that one day he would laugh in such a manner, Rufus would have called you insane.

"You are truly a strange one."

You giggled in response but didn't say a word. Rufus wondered what you were silent as he couldn't see your expression from within the darkness. Bending down to his level, you cautiously brought your hands closer to him and lowered the cloth hiding his face. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him; you had heard women mentioning that Rufus was a handsome man, but you weren't expecting him to be drop-dead sexy. Shinra stared at you with a smirk as your cheeks slowly started to glow red.

"My dear, are you not feeling well? Your cheeks seem a bit too red," he teased, earning a pout from you. "Do my bandages bother you?"

"You even make the bandages look good," you absentmindedly replied. "Uh...I mean-"

Before you could retract your statement or give clarifications, Rufus sealed your lips with his. Everyone in the room started clapping and cheering the two of you on. Though you were embarrassed, a warm smile danced on your lips. As you scanned the smiling faces of all the patients in the room, Rufus stared at the empty bed by the window.

--------------------

The two of you had been together for a while, and Shinra had made a full recovery. The situation in the city was improving, all thanks to the mysterious healing rain.

"Rufus, what are we doing here?" You asked as your wrapped your hands around his arm tightened.

"It will only be a moment," he chuckled and freed his arm from your tight grip before making his way to a dilapidated tombstone. Shinra placed a bouquet of white Forget-Me-Nots in front of the grave and whispered solemnly, "These are from a man who wished to tell you that he loved you dearly. His only regret in life was not confessing his feelings to you."

"Rufus?" You asked, taken aback by his words and actions.

"My dear, do you believe in the afterlife?" He questioned curiously.

"There has to be something after death, so yes."

The corners of his lips slightly tugged up, "Then I hope the old man was able to meet her and confess his feelings."  

———————————————

➣ FFVII Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open || Requests: Closed

#ffvii #rufus x reader #rufus shinra

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hi! I really glad that I found your blog which still taking requests about knb stuff🖤 May I request fwb or friend to lover with Takao in nsfw please? Thanks a lot!

A/N: Hi there, I’m also thrilled to have you here! Now, I wasn’t quite sure whether you wanted headcanons or a scenario so I hope you don’t mind that I did a mix out of the two ...make sure to tell me if you wanted/expected something else 👀

For those who are interested in a fluffier take of the more or less same trope, I’ll leave a link to that scenario below...ANYWAY I hope you’ll enjoy this spicy scenario (also keep in mind that it’s my first time writing smut for KnB! 👉👈)

Tags: Takao x reader ✅  friends with benefits ✅  friends to lovers ✅  fluff ✅ slight angst ✅  smut ✅

☞ 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕣.

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

having someone as lively as Takao in your circle of friends guaranteed you a lot of fun and laughs throughout your days

the two of you understood each other since day 1 and had quickly become inseparable

his former basketball club teammates had always teased the two of you by saying how much you both looked like an old married couple, but you rarely to never payed any attention to it

the school years passed by in a flash and before you knew it, a new chapter of your life was awaiting you

usually, people tend to lose contact with their former schools’ friends, but that was never a worry in your friendship with the young man because neither you nor he intended to leave the other’s side, even if it meant that you’d have to live together

you had considered it, but never truly talked about it so now you both were living separated but close enough for daily visits and hangouts

whenever Takao and you took a walk or went shopping together small gestures such as holding hands, leaning your head on his shoulders, or him using your lap as his pillow after taking a seat somewhere were nothing out of the usual

no matter how small these may have been, there would always be some kind of warm and fuzzy feeling that spread inside of you whenever you were so close to each other

as time passed you began to desire more and couldn’t help but wonder just what would happen if you went past that threshold of friendship

at first, you thought that these thoughts were simply temporary and one-sided but as time flew by you began to wonder whether Takao shared these hidden desires as well

he began to increasingly close the distance between you two by doing innocent-seeming things such as inviting you to a round or two of street basketball while he had nothing on but some shorts or when he slept over at your house, he’d wander around half-naked with nothing but a towel which covered his lower body after he’d taken a shower

.

on one evening when he’d invited you over to his home, the two of you were snuggled as close as can be (since personal space never existed in your relationship) while watching a movie the two of you liked

you were slowly growing tired and whenever Takao caught that, he’d always try to make you fall asleep quicker by gently caressing your head, and now wasn’t any different

or so you thought...

your eyelids were slowly becoming heavier and just as you were about to completely doze off, you felt how his slender fingers began playing with your ear, tickling it in the process

as a response to this tingling feeling you began writhing your body, trying to escape his grasp as the smallest giggles escaped you

“T-Takao, haha...s-stop it!”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, am I perhaps bothering you?”

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

Even though you managed to win some distance between you two, his fingers never paused and tickled you until tears rolled down your cheeks from so much laughter.

This continued for a couple of minutes until you fell right into his lap and surrendered. Takao laughed triumphantly as he gently pets your head a few times and leaned himself back.

“Sorry sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, you’re always so cute when you laugh like that.”

His apology didn’t mean much if you considered that mischievous grin that was plastered on his face. You wanted to pay him back for that so you simply crossed your arms and pouted, knowing fully well that this would trigger the young man’s conscience and make him feel at least a little bad.

Not even a minute later and his smile was replaced by a surprised and slightly worried expression. He whispered your name and poked your cheek ever so gently as he continuously asked whether you were mad at him. You used that short moment of confusion and swiftly took a hold of his cheeks, pulling his face down to you and kissing his lips. Even though that small peck didn’t even last five entire seconds, your friend looked so taken aback that he even raised his arm towards his mouth and ran his fingertips along his chapped lips.

“D-Did you just...? You...y-you really did, didn’t you?”

“What’s wrong Takao? Don’t tell me that good ol’ me stole your first kiss!” you teased and waited rather unusually long for the typical cheeky answer you were used to, but nothing came from him for quite a while so you simply looked up at him and whispered out his name. You saw his lips move and he said something that sounded very much like do it again, but since you were quite uncertain and wanted to make sure, but before even a sound escaped from your mouth, Takao’s hand took a hold of the back of your head, lifted it up towards his own face and now kissed you.

This time though you decided to savor the moment and even wrapped your arms around his neck. The young man seemingly had the same idea as he pushed your body further towards his own, with the help of his other hand that he’d placed on your back. At that moment neither of you cared for the fact that you were nothing more than friends and that this was considered unnatural, all desires that the two of you had kept hidden within yourselves for all this time erupted and came to light.

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

the following day the two of you tried to act as if that kiss had never happened, but unfortunately, your memories of it were enough to push you past the threshold of friendship and gradually change your relationship

from then on both of you individually started getting closer to the other and at some point, it even bordered on possessiveness, but it couldn’t be helped since it was you both that unleashed your desires for the other

.

everything seemed normal at first and you started off with mere kisses on the lips whenever a situation presented itself; situations such as when Takao surprised you with a meal or when you helped him out with his chores/assignments

then slowly but surely you began to close the physical distance as well

when going out together the occasional gesture of him wrapping his arm around your hip to shield you from the masses of people that went on a shopping spree became a habit and even lasted for your entire walk; you on the other hand usually either hocked your arm around his or simply held onto his hand, but now you even intertwined your fingers with his own, caressed the back of his palm, and of course didn’t let go until you had to

you putting his clothes on, Takao using some of your skincare products, or him sleeping over at your place and vice versa was nothing uncommon, so even if it occurred more than twice a week neither of you truly minded it until that one faithful night that started it all off...

that night you were having another one of your sleepovers, you had cuddled up to him and played with his fingers while he caressed your head with his free hand

you still don’t know why but at some point you two started to jostle for something and you ended up underneath your friend’s lean body

it was all laughs at first, but the moment you two locked eyes with each other the atmosphere changed drastically and before you knew it, you’d began kissing each other passionately; it also didn’t take the two of you too long to get touchy-feely

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

While your tongue was clashing against his own and battling for dominance, you felt his slightly cold fingers dive underneath your shirt. The sudden and unexpected sensation made your body twitch and your back arch against the young man’s chest, who used the opportunity to move his hand further up your back until his nibble fingers reached your bra’s hooks. You halted mid-kiss and opened your eyes and were greeted by a rather erotic expression from the man above you. His hair was a mess, his cheeks, flushed; his pupils were dilated up until the point where the black almost swallowed the slate blue of his irises, and his slightly chapped lips looked glossy from all the saliva you guys exchanged during your passionate kiss. To put it simply: he was a mess.

Knowing that you were responsible for his state made you feel hot and you couldn’t deny that you were getting more aroused by the minute. You used the small timeframe during which he was busy removing the two different fabrics from your upper body to remove his sweatpants. All this time nothing except your individual heavy breathing could be heard, neither of you said anything and just waited for the other to either back away or put an end to this and yet you didn’t. You heard Takao swallow audibly as he took a hold of your cheeks and pressed his lips once again against your own and that gesture made you lose it completely.

Before you knew it, clothes were thrown behind the couch and onto the floor until nothing remained but your undergarments.

“T-Takao, we’re really doing this, huh?” you ask between pants as you impatiently push your hips up to his clothed lower body. A low growl escapes him and instead of answering you, he just bit his lower lip while his hands were busy squeezing your breasts and playing with your nipples.

“ ‘Course we are,” he mumbled in between the kisses and licks he peppered your sensitive buds with. While his hands traveled down your abdomen, you used the opportunity to free his erection from the boxer briefs that confined it, wrapped your hand around his shaft, and began stroking it. With your thumb, you gently spread the bead of precum around his tip while continuously looking at his changing expression. The moment he noticed that his face had become the focus of your attention he immediately straightened himself and glared down at you.

“You little vixen. Do you get off on what you see?” Takao asks as he removes your panties in a swift motion, gives them a quick sniff, and throws them behind the couch. The entire situation made you blush almost instantly, tainting your cheeks in a deep red, and even if you tried to hide from his cheeky grin and curious eyes, your friend was quicker than you and dove his head down between your legs.

Holding your moans and voice in general back proved to be quite the impossible task for you since your friend showed you that his big and loud mouth also had other and way more pleasurable functions than those. The way his tongue skillfully flicked against your clit the moment his thin fingers had come in contact with that one sensitive spot inside of you, made you moan out in surprise and had your back arching ever so slightly. It truly was different when people other than yourself touched your weak spots and with such precision on top of that.

At this rate, I-I’m not going to last—

Mere seconds after you’d thought that Takao took a hold of your thighs and pushed them up towards your chest, exposing your entire lower half to the rather chilly air of the living room. He spread your labia apart while continuing to lick your wet entrance and puffy clit. One of his hands kneaded your breast and the other caressed your mushy insides in a scissoring motion. His eagle-like eyes were fixated on your heavily breathing form and the way your moans turned into whines made him feel even more satisfaction and just like that, he threw all morale away and indulged himself in your body.

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

that night had been quite a long and very pleasurable one

now that you knew how your best friend was in bed, you couldn’t help but see him in a different light

since the two of you were still single and simply had some occasional hookups with no serious intentions behind them it was a good thing that you had crossed the border of simple friendship and were now considering the other a friend with benefits

whenever one of you craved attention, needed to blow off some steam, or was just in need of some physical contact in general you’d repeat what the two of you started during that night

you were also lucky enough to see sides of your best friend that you’d never seen before let alone known of their existence

Takao ticked all the boxes one could wish for

he was attentive to your needs, respectful of your boundaries, he was both assertive and diffident, and of course so very skillful

one thing that surprised you was that he had quite the wholesome kinks despite his rebellious and rather wild appearance

he’d always treat you as if you were a treasure and make sure to give all of your body the attention it deserved

“You’re just so perfect (Y/N)-chan...how can one even think about holding back?”

that’s what he had told you once while the two of you were sharing the bathtub and his hands were caressing your body’s most prominent parts

sure he had his softer sides but like everyone else even he could experience more frustrating and stressful days during which that soft side was replaced by an intenser one

the moment he either left your messages on reading or simply came over to your apartment knocking the door half off its hinges you instinctively knew what was about to go down

on days such as these, he’d remain silent most of the time and simply use your body however he sees fit

someone got on his nerves today?

expect deep and relentless thrusting in all kind of positions that were sure to hit your most sensitive spots

he messed something up and got screamed at by his superior?

you better have a day off on the following day because this man is first going to edge you until you cry and then overstimulate your already spent body until you beg him to stop

bad mood in general?

he’d bind both of your wrists to the bedpost and would remain perfectly silent throughout the entire time he’d pleasure you, regardless of how many times you’d ask him if he was ok and whether you did something wrong, he’d simply spare you a single glance and continue eating you out in a slow but precise manner

the first time he’d shown you this “uglier” side of his you were quite thrown back, but afterward, he treated you so gentle and affectionate that it almost made you forget about everything that had transpired

.

as time flew by the fact you had tried to suppress ever so often finally came back to haunt you

the fact that the two of you were still friends

yeah sure you had now counted as friends with benefits for the past few months, but the clean cut between your relationship had never been made

“(Y/N)-chan is something the matter, you stopped moving your hips, y’know?”

and with that, you were brought back to the reality before you

the man who had occupied your thoughts was lying underneath you, arms crossed behind his head, small sweat droplets adorning and highlighting his flexed abdominal muscles, his hawk-like eyes looked at your exposed and slightly sweating body, focusing on your hardened nipples and the tightness of your walls that were clinging to his pulsating shaft

usually, you’d choose a better time to bring up important topics such as your relationship with the young man, but the adrenaline within you mixed with the ecstasy you felt from this entire situation made you speak up about what had been bothering you this entire time

“Takao...what are we?”

the light grip the young man had maintained on your hips tightened up ever so slightly and you could see how his jaw muscles tensed up

you yourself were taken aback by the direct confrontation so you couldn’t help but imagine just how much it threw him off the loop

after a while, he asked what you meant with that question and now it was your turn to be speechless

What do I actually want...?

the two of you were really close friends, but what now?

does this relationship even have the potential for a more romantic one or would it simply ruin everything?

Takao noticed that his question had quite the impact on you so he immediately got up from his lying position and took a gentle hold of your arms

his gentle touch startled you ever so slightly, your eyes darted instinctively to his own ones

“(Y/N)-chan...I’m sorry if I startled you with thi-“

“N-No no, don’t apologize! It was my fault for bringing it up in this situation...”

your faint smile was a pathetic attempt to reassure someone who’s known you for such a long time, so as expected Takao didn’t give in ...

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

You felt how his hands slowly moved up to your shoulders and unexpectedly pushed you back, ultimately changing your positions. Now that the young man was on top of you he trapped you underneath him by placing his hands on each side of your head and hooked his legs with yours in such a way that even if you tried to struggle, his weight and muscles wouldn’t let you move even an inch.

“(Y/N),” he began, the unusual way of him calling you by your full name made you tense up even more than you already were, “I think that the two of us know the reason why we never labeled this relationship...if you can even call it that.”

Without giving him much of an answer you simply nodded and waited for him to continue his line of thoughts. After some intense moments of silence, he sighed and began: “I want to be completely honest with you (Y/N), do you seriously think I’m doing all of these things just because I’m that sexually frustrated? Or do you think I’m indulging you just because we’re friends?”

There was some doubt inside your head concerning his last question, but you nodded nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t do that and you know it...sure when we first did it I thought that it might’ve been a mistake and that I was being too pushy, but when you became more touch-starved I knew that it had to mean something and that’s why I kept going...”

He placed one of his hands on your cheek and caressed it lightly, the sensation sending pleasurable goosebumps down your entire body. You wanted to intertwine your fingers with his, but before you could do that his warm hand left your cheek.

“...if you started having your doubts about all of this then I understand that you’d want to stop this.”

The expression he said that last part with made your heart ache, but that young man knew how to hide his pain. In a matter of seconds, he bounced back from completely broken to gentle and loving.

“But let me say this (Y/N)...just cause I’m backing down now doesn’t mean I won’t try to steal you away from your future partner!”

...

...You idiot

Just as he was about to pull away from your insides you hooked your legs around his hips, keeping him buried as deep inside of you as he had been mere moments ago. That gesture of yours was both surprising and quite pleasurable so it was no surprise that he’d have to take a deep and slightly trembling breath.

“Kazunari Takao, you’re such an idiot. When did I ever utter the words of not wanting to be with you anymore...?”

Now your hands found themselves on top of his cheeks, but this time you pulled him down towards yourself and kissed him. The element of surprise vanished pretty quickly and before you knew it he kissed you back with his usual vigor.

“I’m also scared you know..? You’re so important to me that I’m borderline anxious about what could happen if we really do cross the border of friendship, but I’d like to believe that our bond isn’t that thin that we’d end up as enemies if something shouldn’t work out...what do you think?”

The man above you remained silent, but the loving and relieved smile he’d cast upon you gave you all the answers you needed, so without saying anything else you just wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your forehead in the crack of his neck.

Now that you had reached a mutual and more or less wordless understanding it was your bodies’ turn to finish the job.

With newfound vigor, Takao slid his hands down to your legs and lifted them just enough to expose your private parts. He licked his thumb with the very top of his tongue and began drawing circles on your clit. As soon as you were wet enough for his shaft to thrust back and forth his hand directed its focus to your breasts and began kneading them.

And this night marked the first time the two of you embraced and pleased each other like a proper couple...

#knb headcanons #knb imagines #knb fluff #knb smut #knb takao #takao x reader #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #alysspear

[hwy-unicorn]

make everything alright, if only for tonight

summary: “I haven’t felt safe with a man in so long,” she breathed, eyes looking down at where her hands were fidgeting with his fingers. “I feel safe with you. And I’m… nervous to mess it up. I’m scared I’m going to mess us up.”

He pressed his lips gently to forehead and she sighed, the tension escaping her at the tender gesture of affection. The affection that she found so rare from others, yet an affection that seemed to come so easily to him in regards to her.

“Nothing you do could ever mess us up.”

“But what if-“

“Shh,” his lips find hers, the kiss so soft and tender, nothing like the sloppy, wet and rushed kisses they shared only moments ago. “I mean it. Nothing. Okay?”

Norma and Alex share an intimate night together

NSFW

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33649003

Norma felt devastatingly anxious as she rapidly flicked the light switch, waiting for the brightness to flood the darkness of the room, sighing deeply as nothing happened. She glanced uneasily around the basement, trying to find the flashlight that she knew she had somewhere. Norma was not particularly scared of the dark, but Norman was gone now, and she was alone in the large house. Alex had called her earlier, awkwardly reassuring her that he’d be home late and to go on and have dinner without him, and it was nearing ten pm now, and there had been no word from him since.

She contemplated calling him, but quickly shoved the idea from her brain the moment it appeared. He had done enough for her in these past few days, escorting Norman to Pineview and marrying her a day later so she had insurance to keep him there. She was not about to ask more favors from him, especially one to come home from work so she wouldn’t be afraid. They were married, yes, but not like that.

Her shaky hands flick the flashlight on, sweeping around the dark basement as she made her way back towards the stairs. She couldn’t bear to be in the basement much anymore, the memory of her son pointing a gun at her only a few nights ago, was still fresh in her mind, and though he was safely away and getting treatment, she couldn’t help the unease. The whole house seemed so empty and much too full all at once, and she couldn’t escape the crushing loneliness or extreme unease at all of it.

Norma shut the basement door, fingers gripping the knob tightly as she released a soft sigh into the darkness. Damn it Alex, where are you? The sudden creak of the front door startled her, and she turned, meeting Alex’s equally startled expression.

“Jeez Norma.”

“You’re home,” she couldn’t keep the relief out of her voice, or the small smile from appearing on her face, feeling suddenly so much safer with his presence in the darkness of the house.

“It’s late, why are you up?”

And just like that, the smile was gone as soon as it had appeared, defenses on the rise as she glared haughtily at him. “Because I can be, is that an issue for you?”

“What? No, I just-” she glanced down at the bottle in his hand. “- wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s it-”

“Is that whiskey?”

He looked down at the bottle, as if he just remembered he was carrying it, shrugging somewhat guiltily. “Er… yeah sorta,” he mumbled.

“I have whiskey here, Alex, why didn’t you just drink that?”

“That’s… that’s yours, I just thought-“

She rolled her eyes dramatically, snatching the bottle from his hand and reading the label. “Jesus Alex, you live here,” she made a small noise of disgust as she shoved it back into his hand. “This kind sucks too. Come on, I’ll get you some of the good stuff.”

She was flurrying off into the kitchen before he could protest, and for a moment, he contemplated just going up the stairs and to his room. It had been a long day, much longer thanks to the drunk asshole who decided to drive at eighty five miles before slamming into an electric pole, causing a power outage for half the town. He decided against it when her voice called out to him from the kitchen, not wanting to hurt her feelings, nor make her upset.

He stopped in the doorway, watching uselessly as she stretched up on her tiptoes and blindly grabbed at the array of glassware that lined her top shelves, unable to help the wandering of his eyes over her legs as the skirt of her dress rose higher at her actions. He quickly averted his gaze the minute she was back down on steady feet, glasses in hand.

“Sorry it’s so dark,” she said, haphazardly waving one of the cups around. “These were all the candles I had. Do you have any idea what happened to the power? I checked the breaker but it’s not that.”

“Yeah, some guy hit a pole. Power should be back up in a few hours.”

“What an asshole.”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

She slid a glass over to him, before taking a seat at the table, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to sit across from her. It was late, much too late to be having a glass of whiskey and awkwardly chatting with his new wife, but he sat down anyway.

“Was he drinking?” she asked, and it took a moment for Alex to realize that she was still talking of the driver he mentioned, before nodding. “Did he die?”

Alex spluttered out an anxious laugh. “Jesus, no. He’s alive. He’s in the hospital now, he’ll likely have a concussion, but besides that and a hefty jail time, he’ll be okay.”

She nodded, and silence fell over them once more, the lack of noise feeling heavy and uncomfortable, mostly because Alex and Norma didn’t do this. They didn’t have quiet moments together; their experiences with one another were always a confrontation, a clash of interests. And now they were married, and sitting in her dark kitchen, all alone in her house.

He prepared to excuse himself up to his room, knocking back the whiskey in his glass like a shot, when she spoke again. “I called Pineview, but they still won’t let me visit. They won’t even tell me anything at all!”

“I’m sure he’s okay, Norma. You can go see him tomorrow, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I just wish they could’ve told me something. I mean, I’ve been a mess over it, over him, and I just…I’m his mother! They should tell me, right? I’m his guardian! He lives with me, I take care of him.”

“He’s eighteen,” Alex shrugged, and she sighed dramatically. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, that’s what they said,” she muttered, clearly annoyed that Alex had no way to fix her small dilemma, and he almost wanted to laugh at the idea that Norma was hoping for a different answer, hoping that Pineview’s withholding of information about her son was somehow illegal, and that there was a way for Alex to fix it. It’s so characteristically Norma, turning to Alex for help when she doesn’t receive the answer she wants elsewhere.

“Norman’s a reasonable kid. I’m sure he’s adjusting well,” he said, hoping his words offered her some sort of comfort. If they did or didn’t, she didn’t let it show, pouring more whiskey into both of their glasses as soon as hers finished.

“We’ve never been apart for so long before,” she muttered sadly, fingers dancing ever so lightly along the rim of the glass. “When he was little, he used to get so sad when he had to go to school. He always said he missed me too much. And now he’s going to be gone for god knows how long, and I don’t know if I can-”

“Norma,” he reached across the table, his hand curling around hers before he could stop himself, effectively cutting her off. “You’re doing the right thing.”

She let out a soft, shaky breath. “I hope so.”

He made to take his hand back, feeling like he was slightly overstepping with the soft amount of contact, but she stopped him, turning her hand over and wrapping her fingers around his. He looked up at her, taking in her wide, teary eyes and trembling bottom lip.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she breathed. “Will you stay up with me? Just for a little bit?”

He should say no. He had work in the morning, and it was already later than he was used to, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to deny her. Not when she was looking at him so sadly, holding his hand so tightly. Not when she was feeling so lonely without her son in a house so big and empty.

“Sure, Norma.”

She brightened for just a moment, before standing abruptly and gathering their glasses and her newly opened bottle of whiskey into her hands, heading towards the living room, clearly expecting Alex to follow.

“I would say we could watch a movie but…” she sighed, setting the things on the coffee table and flopping back onto the couch.

“No power,” he said and she nodded.

“No power.”

He sat on the armchair by the couch, keeping himself away and out of her space in case she became uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine that it was easy having another man in the house, one she didn’t know very well. Sure, they were acquaintances, and had helped each other out before, but they didn’t know much about one another.

“We could talk,” she offered, before instantly crinkling her nose. “We aren't very good at talking.”

“We aren’t," he laughed.

She smiled softly, deciding to busy herself with slowly filling each of their glasses fuller, despite them already being half filled.

“But we’re married now,” she said, sliding the glass towards him, the liquid sloshing out and down the side. “We need to practice.”

She was teasing him, keeping her tone light and giggly, even though she felt anything but light. Alex was tense, keeping his responses short and Norma felt a sinking in her stomach. She knew her and Alex weren’t exactly friends, barely even acquaintances really, but still, she hoped to find comfort in him tonight, to talk and laugh like they had done this for years, and for her to just forget about where Norman was and what he was doing. And it didn’t seem that Alex really felt like talking about much of anything.

Until, “Alright, then what do married people talk about?”

She smiled, biting down on her bottom lip to suppress it, relieved he was playing along. She thought for a moment. “Taxes.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Taxes?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “You know, if the taxes are too high.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that’s what married couples talk about.”

“Pfft, I’ve been married twice, Alex. I know what married couples talk about.” Granted, Norma didn’t talk much about taxes with neither John nor Sam. She was never involved in the financial interests, except for when she was in trouble for spending too much money.

“Well, I’ve been married, and we definitely didn’t talk much about taxes.”

“Oh my god. You were married?”

Alex laughed. “The surprise in your tone hurts!”

“No!” Norma giggled, sitting up and criss crossing her legs underneath her. “No! I just… okay yeah. I’m a little surprised… is it anyone I know?”

“God no. It was forever ago.” Norma nodded, placing her chin in her hands, and he realized she was waiting for him to continue. He hadn’t really talked about his marriage with anyone before, and felt suddenly nervous to share a part of his past with her. “We were young, erm, it was when I was in the marines. She was the sister of one of my buddies. Met and married three weeks later, divorced six months after that-“

“Aww no! What happened?” Norma pouted dramatically.

“We just didn’t work. It was a mistake in the first place,” he shrugged, before taking another drink of his much too full glass of whiskey. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What about your marriages?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh… well. My high school boyfriend got me pregnant and we ran off and had Dylan, and when he was around two, I met Norman’s father, Sam. I… I thought I was in love, and we had an affair and... and Dylan’s father left me and I married him. He was… he was an asshole.”

Norma huffed out an anxious laugh, wringing her hands together nervously as she spoke about her previous marriages with a sort of nonchalance that wouldn’t be expected when talking about an abusive relationship. If anything, Alex assumed he’d hear some sort of malice in her tone, assumed she’d be rightfully angry over what was done to her back then, but heard nothing of the sort, instead an almost sad acceptance over the previous hardships of her life.

“I’m sorry,” Alex murmured, and she instantly shrugged, waving her hand as if it were no big deal.

“No, it’s okay. Sam’s dead and gone and he can’t hurt me from beyond the grave.”

“But he did before,” Alex said seriously, their eyes meeting, and Norma swallowed hard, cringing at the short flash of memories that disappeared before they could take any real hold. He did before.

“Yeah, he… he hated me,” she trilled out a little fake laugh. “I must be a pain to be married to. So,” she held up her glass, “good luck.”

It went silent again, and Norma found herself lost in thought, almost anxious over what she had revealed to Alex. He had no real way of knowing that Sam used to hurt her; he just assumed and she just confirmed, for no real reason other than that she felt she would have no judgment from him, and knew he wouldn’t press for information if it became too much for her. Perhaps that’s why she found herself suddenly wanting to tell him everything.

Can you imagine that?” she asked suddenly, sitting up straighter. “I mean… I mean I was married to the guy for twenty years. Twenty years of my life were spent with a man who hated me.”

Norma flopped her head back dramatically on the cushions, sighing heavily up at the ceiling. She listened to the soft creaking of the armchair as Alex stood, making his way over and plopping down heavily on the couch next to her. He laid his head over the back of the sofa, next to hers, and she breathed deep, the closeness of their bodies making her tense with…. something that she couldn’t quite name. Anticipation? Maybe. Nothing would happen though, she was sure of that. Alex didn’t like her like that , and she didn’t like him like that either.

Liar.

Okay, maybe she liked him like that a little bit. But not much. Not enough to have sex with him on her sofa in her living room. She could feel Alex staring at her, and it took everything to not turn her head to look back at him.

“He didn’t deserve you,” Alex finally said, his voice barely a whisper, and Norma felt a knot in her throat all of the sudden.

“I deserved him. It. All of it,” she replied once the knot had loosened, and Alex shook his head, but she didn’t let him speak anymore. “I stayed. I should’ve left after the first time he hit me but I didn’t. I stayed. I stayed with a man who hated me, who scared me and hurt me, and with a man that couldn’t even make me-“ she bit her lip then, silencing the words that she almost let leave her lips, suddenly remembering who she was talking to, wondering for a moment if the glass and a half of whiskey really had inebriated her enough to almost let those words spill.

“Couldn’t what?” he asked innocently, and her face flushed. She tore his gaze away from his and sat up, resting her elbows on her knees, groaning. “Norma?”

“Don’t act dense,” she snapped and he frowned, sitting up next to her.

“What? I-I’m not. What are you talking about?"

She turned back around to face him, eyes roaming over his face at the pure confusion in his gaze, seemingly not understanding where Norma’s innocent but also not so innocent sentence was leading. “Oh, so you just are dense,” she teased, laughing anxiously, as he frowned, staring at her flushed cheeks and nervous smile while she fidgeted with her fingers.

“Alex,” she sighed. “He couldn’t… make me…” she dragged out the words, giving him the opportunity to fill in the blanks as he stared at her, trying to understand what she meant, but drawing a blank. “Oh my god!” she groaned. “He couldn’t make me cum.”

His silence felt different now, as he tore his gaze away from hers, face flushed as he covered it. “Oh god. Norma I’m sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t- I-I-“

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped her at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Here she was, at nearly eleven pm at night, with her husband-but not like that- telling him all about her shitty, dead, ex-husband who couldn’t make her cum.

“Oh god. What are we doing?” she laughed. “What am I even saying?” she picked up the whiskey bottle, giving it a good shake. “Have I really drank that much?”

He couldn’t help but laugh with her, groaning slightly as he ran his hands down his face.

There was a brief moment of silence after their laughter subsided, before Alex finally turned to look at her again. “Like ever?” he asked, and she should be offended that he hadn’t strayed from the topic, but couldn’t really seem to care anymore.

“Never,” she confirms. “But to be fair, no one else could either.”

She looked at him, smiling sheepishly at his shocked expression. This was not a conversation they should’ve been having, it was drawing into dangerous territory, pushing a boundary that neither had crossed before. Norma blamed it on the lack of sleep from the past few days, but deep down knew that it’s for reasons other than that too.

“No one?” he asked. “Shelby?”

“Pfft, Zack?” she laughed. “Yeah right. He was young and he didn’t care.”

Alex’s shock had faded into something so sad that Norma couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. She didn’t want him to feel sorry that none of her previous partners had ever cared, nor taken the time to try and give her any pleasure. It was almost embarrassing, and she felt broken.

“It’s fine, really,” she said quickly, as she averted her eyes. “I can take care of it myself.”

She startled as his hand rested atop hers, meeting his eyes briefly before looking back down at their hands. Hers seemed so small in comparison. “You shouldn’t have to.”

The conversation had gone much too far now, crossing over to the point of no return and there was no turning back, no unsaying what she said, no way to take back everything she had admitted to him in her second day of barely any sleep state of mind. She should’ve expected his hand coming to touch her face, but somehow didn’t, somehow still startling just slightly as she met his eyes. His thumb traced along her jaw, down over her bottom lip, his eyes following the path his touch was mapping out along her skin, and she let out a shaky breath.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, as he leaned in impossibly closer than before. “Alex…”

His lips touched hers, just briefly, not even truly a kiss. Just a soft brush that left her wanting more, but knowing she had to stop him. Alex didn’t like her like this. Her hands came up to touch his shoulders, giving in for a just moment longer as she prepared herself to deny him, for not only her own sanity, but his as well. He didn’t like her like this.

She didn’t get the chance to, however, because his next words have her whimpering, unable to catch her breath. “I can make you cum,” against her lips and she shuddered deliciously in his arms.

“No you…” another brush of his lips, another gasp, another shudder. “You don’t want me.”

“I do,” he breathed. “I do.”

“No,” her hands push slightly on his shoulders, grip firm, keeping his body at somewhat of a distance even if his lips haven’t left hers. “You’re saying that now because you don’t have any other options right now. I’m here, I’m convenient but I’m not what you want.”

He pulled back to look at her, hands cupping her face and thumbs tenderly stroking her cheekbones. His gaze was so serious, yet so soft, and Norma found herself wanting to get lost in his eyes forever.

“You are what I want, Norma. I’ve always wanted you.”

Her breath hitched at the confession, but she refused to let herself believe it. She couldn’t let herself believe it, because Alex was a good man. So incredibly good, and despite their arguments and bickering and how much he got under her skin, he deserved so much more than what she had to offer.

So she shook her head vehemently again, feeling the need to tear herself apart so he didn’t want her anymore, ever again.

“No I… I can’t cum. I won’t be able to, I-“

“You don’t know that, because no one’s ever even tried.”

He was right. No man ever had the desire to touch her in ways that would make her feel on fire, no man had ever wanted to bring her to orgasm, to watch her gasp and shudder and crash and fall. No man before him.

“I’m- I’m all gross Alex, I haven’t showered in like three days. I’m not wearing makeup, and my underwear is entirely unsexy, and I’m not going to be good enough to-“

She was cut off as Alex suddenly grabbed her hand, his grip around her wrist tight, yet not painful. Somehow firm, yet gentle all at once, and she gasped when he pressed it against the hardness in his jeans. His hand cupped the back of hers, his fingers stroking ever so lightly along her dainty ones as she let out a shuddering gasp, softly squeezing him.

“Look at what you do to me, Norma,” she stared down at her hand over him, sucking in soft breaths to keep herself grounded as he watched her react to such intimacy. Alex pressed his forehead against hers. “Feel what you do to me and try telling me again that I don’t want you. That you’re not good enough. Fuck… Norma. You’re all I’ve ever wanted."

She closed her hand around him again, applying a bit more pressure, as his head fell to her neck, kissing and nipping at her soft and sensitive skin. She’s almost surprised at the choked out gasp he let out on the crook of her neck. Norma knew she was attractive, knew she was good at sex and had a knack for driving men insane, but never had she thought that Alex would want her like this. She never thought he’d want to touch her as softly and tenderly as he was now, or want to kiss her in places that made her shiver in his arms.

Norma saw herself as nothing but a nuisance to him. Sure, he was attracted to her, and she had imagined that they’d probably have sex eventually, but she’s genuinely surprised at how he was touching her, the gentle stroke of his fingertips being so fleeting that she’s almost overwhelmed. And not only that, but Alex had expressed a desire to bring her pleasure. Had whispered that he wanted to bring her to release while he brushed his lips so soft over her own. Had insisted that he’d at least try while she was convinced she couldn’t.

“I want to make you feel good. If this is what you want, if you’ll let me… I want to.”

God, she wanted to just as badly. “Not here. Upst-” she gasped, letting out a nervous little giggle as he suddenly stood and swept her up into his arms. She let her head fall into the crook of his neck, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive skin as he carried her up the stairs and backed up into her room.

He set her on her feet the minute they crossed through the threshold, pressing his lips to hers in an entirely uncoordinated and sloppy way, both breathing hard as they tried to find a rhythm and balance to the frantic kisses. Her hands dropped to his belt, trembling as she began to undo it, looping the leather out through the rings, the metal clinking together as she struggled. His hands suddenly came down, covering hers and she let out a soft gasp and she met his gaze, his eyes kind.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Norma blinked up at him blankly for a moment, thinking for a moment that he’s changed his mind, before realizing that he sees her, shaking and nervous, unable to simply undo his belt, as a sign that she does not want this. That it has gone too far, and that she is afraid to take it back. Her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lips as his gaze softened slightly at her nervous little actions.

“I want to,” she breathed, reaching for his belt once more, but his hand stopped hers again, looking entirely unconvinced. “I’m just… nervous,” she said finally, realizing Alex wouldn’t accept her answer without some sort of explanation.

“I haven’t felt safe with a man in so long,” she breathed, eyes looking down at where her hands were fidgeting with his fingers. “I feel safe with you. And I’m… nervous to mess it up. I’m scared I’m going to mess us up.”

He pressed his lips gently to forehead and she sighed, the tension escaping her at the tender gesture of affection. The affection that she found so rare from others, yet an affection that seemed to come so easily to him in regards to her.

“Nothing you do could ever mess us up.”

“But what if-“

“Shh,” his lips find hers, the kiss so soft and tender, nothing like the sloppy, wet and rushed kisses they shared only moments ago. “I mean it. Nothing. Okay?”

Norma let out a soft sigh into his mouth, nodding frantically as his hands swept up and down her sides, the pressure intoxicating. They land on her hips, rest there as they continue to kiss, soft and slow and sensual now that the nerves have subsided a little. Norma knew she was safe, knew that Alex would stop the minute she said, knew that even if he couldn’t make her cum that she would be happy solely for knowing that he wanted to try, and that he had given her safety to explore.

Her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back towards the bed, flopping down ungracefully, him following after her, his hand shooting out to catch himself before his entire weight flounced on top of her. She moved her lips down his jaw, breathing out a soft laugh into the skin as he tried to undo the buttons of her shirt with one hand, finding it harder to do than he anticipated.

“I’ve got it,” she murmured sweetly, giving him a soft smile as she undoes the buttons, pulling the shirt off her with a practiced ease.

She slid further up the bed, realizing their half standing, half lying position was entirely inconvenient, and he followed, leaning down to press soft, sweet kisses against her newly exposed skin. He trailed his lips back up her neck, kissing along her jaw, stopping every so often to suck deliciously on her sensitive skin while his hands fumbled behind her for the clasp of her bra, finding it hard to locate when she was pressed against the pillows, and he couldn’t help but blush at his seeming failure to undress Norma.

Norma laughed up at him, not unkindly, but enough to make Alex feel slightly more embarrassed as she pushed his hands away. “It’s on the front.”

“Oh,” he muttered, watching as she undid the bra, sliding her arms out of the straps.

“Are you going to be able to unzip my skirt?” she teased, as she began to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Or will you need some help with that too?”

“Oh shush,” he replied, moving her hands away from the buttons of his shirt to cup her breast in his hand, thumb gently rolling over her nipple, causing her to gasp just softly. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she countered, making to resume her work of button undoing, when he leans down, sucking the soft peak of her breast into his mouth. “ Oh.”

Her head fell back against the pillows, whimpering softly as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud of her nipple. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging his head back up towards her and clashing their lips together, sloppy and untethered, and she finally undoes the rest of the buttons of his skirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it haphazardly on the floor, her dainty hands running up and down his chest.

His hand slides down her stomach and around her backside, pulling at the zipper of her skirt. She lifted her hips, kicking the flowy fabric off, spreading her legs as he rested his thigh between hers, applying pressure where she needed it most, and she gasped. She rolled her hips against his thigh, letting out a soft mewl at the pleasure she was finding from simply rocking against him.

“Jesus,” he murmured, watching her head fall back onto the pillows. “God… you’re so beautiful.”

“Can you- oh- ” she shuddered deliciously as he gently rolled her nipple between his fingers, relishing in the soft moans she was granting him. “I want… I…”

“What do you want?”

“I want you inside me. Please, Alex.”

He moved his leg from where it was slotted between hers, feeling instantly sorry as she let out a little whine from the loss of contact, hoping to quickly make up for it as he undid his belt, kicking his jeans off his legs, as she does the same with her underwear, before immediately taking his place on top of her. Her hand reached down between them, pumping him softly into her hand, before lining him up at her entrance, pulling at his shoulder with her other hand, desperately trying to get him to lean down into her.

“Are you sure?” he breathed, hand cupping her face tenderly.

“I’m sure,” she whimpered. “Alex, I swear if you make me wait any longer-” she gasped, the threat dying on her lips as he slowly and gently slid into her, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing soft fluttery circles to help her relax.

“Are you okay?” he asked, almost concerned at her quick little pants.

“Yes,” she breathed. “You feel so good.”

He thrusted into her gently, causing another whimpering moan to spill from her lips, while his thumb continued it’s teasing little dance over her clit. “Yeah?”

“More. Please, I need more.”

He thrusted into her again, finding a steady and easy pace that she seemed to enjoy, gasps and whimpers and soft moans spilling from her lips, as her hands clutched onto him, trying to keep herself grounded amidst the overwhelming sensations. Alex suddenly increased the pressure on her clit, and she gasped as he rubbed his thumb around her in hard circles, her legs falling open easily, practically melting into the sheets below her as her release slowly built inside of her.

“Alex,” she whimpered. “I- I need- faster.”

He complied, groaning as he began to thrust into her at a faster pace, feeling as if he could come undone at any moment, willing himself to hold back. “God, Norma…”

She felt the steady pressure building inside of her, and she gasped, holding onto him tighter as his fingers began moving faster over her. The pressure continued to build, faster and faster, before she broke open, coming undone with a sharp gasp and a shaky moan, his fingers continuing as she rode through it, and slinking away from her when she became too sensitive and pushed it away. Alex followed not long after, thrusting sloppily a few times, before slipping out of her and finding his release on the sheets below, instantly feeling bad for dirtying her bed, but not wanting to cum inside her without permission.

“Shit. Your sheets-”

She breathed out a soft little giggle, brushing her hair from her eyes. “I don’t care about my sheets.”

He dipped his head down, pressing his lips soft against hers, laughing with her into the kiss as he brushed errant tendrils of blonde hair sweetly away from her face, hand cupping her cheek tenderly. Light suddenly flooded the room, and they broke apart, giggling softly to one another.

"Power's back."

"I see," she replied. "You know, if we just would've waited a bit longer than we wouldn't have to fumble around in the dark."

"I don't think I could've waited any longer," he admitted, and she laughed again.

Norma was not sure what this meant for them, where they would go from here, but she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on it any longer, not when he was touching her so softly. Not when he gently cleaned her off, patting a warm cloth between her thighs, and kissing her forehead gently. Not when he changed her sheets, not when he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her with ease, flopping back onto the bed while they both laughed. And especially not when he wrapped her up gently in his arms, holding her close until they fall asleep.

#bates motel #normero fanfic #normero #norma bates #alex romero

[lucycola]

Spock being kind of betrayed by his love interest but after a bit of angst, everything falls into place and fluff is baaaack :>

Spock x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Language, sexual situations, daddy kink if you squint

Spock is a bit of a stubborn asshole in this one. He doesn’t like being lied to and will not stop at getting the truth, especially when he knows it’s about him. Spock may be a little too personal in front of Bones, but it’s an emotional situation. 

The buzz from your monitor diffused through the air, ringing in Spock’s ears. As low as it was it still brought him to groggily open his eyes. The whole room was wrapped in a soft blue glow. He sat up, hand immediately feeling the empty spot next to him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly sure how long,” you whispered, hunched over the screen.

“T’hy’la,” he said into the glow, tone sharper than he intended.

You hurriedly flipped off the monitor.

“Spock,” you said, “I’m sorry I woke you.” You tip-toed carefully across the room and crawled back under the thermal blankets. Your boyfriend have better been thankful that you were extremely cold natured otherwise the mere temperature of his cabin would drive you out of the room.

“What were you-”

“I was finishing up some work for the lab. I dreamed of it and woke and immediately I had to do it before it slipped my mind.”

He could sense your deceit in the way your voice wavered, but it also did that when you were grieving. He moved to find your hand in the dark, but failed as you began to massage his scalp.

Were you avoiding his touch? he wondered.

“Sleep, Sa-mekh,” you gently teased him with the only word that could make his scowl at you, other than ‘papa’ itself. He did like it in bed, however, as much as he denied it.

You paused, thinking of the word critically, a surge of panic leaving your hands. He could feel it, “Tell me what ails you. Who were you talking to a moment ago?”

“Myself,” you quickly yanked your hands away. “I really am sorry for waking you.”

He didn’t bother turning to face you or to further question you. It would come out eventually at the test of his impatience or yours. Something was upsetting you-he felt the raw emotion even through the follicles of his scalp. He would take more time to ponder-more time to investigate.

“I shall return to  sleep - as should you. You should participate in your work on the alpha shift singularly as your sleep cycles will continue to be disrupted therefore lowering you work efficiency-”

“And yours?” you finished for him, half joking. “Whatever you say, Commander.”

x

“I wish everyone would stop treating us like we’re married, honestly,” you said, crossing your arms in front of Doctor McCoy.

“All I know is that I’ve got an irritated Vulcan asking me to scan you. He thinks you're hiding something from me and he’s doing whatever he can to figure it out before actually asking you. Something about not letting him touch you. I tried to tell him it was normal once a month-”

You gave him a playful swat.

“Forgive me, I jest.”

“How ridiculous,” you replied and then sighed.

“That’s a man’s pride for you. It escapes no species,” Nurse Chapel said handing you back the report.

“And as you are hiding something, I’m guessing, I suggest you go on out with it. He’ll tear the ship apart finding an answer.”

“And how I think he used to indulge in smothering me in rapid fire questions. That was before our first meld,” you said, fingering the edge of the padd not having fully looked at it yet.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t tried that yet,” McCoy said, “He’s already hunted me down once. I’m not allowed to say anything, but as a favor to me-”

“Bones-”

“Keep him out of my hair and tell him whatever it is you’re lying about-”

You turned the padd to face him and his eyes enlarged, first with shock and then with mirth. He let out a hearty laugh.

“Good luck with that one. I’d say he’s gonna turn green, but that’s normal for him.”

“Have you  talked to your mother yet, honey?” Nurse Chapel asked.

x

Why would you have spoken with your mother so late an hour? Was it purposeful because he had been sleeping? Was it an emergency? Surely you would have told Spock.

He had already extracted the call log from his comm, even though the data had been private and locked under your information. You would fuss at him later he already knew, but this little inkling in the back of his mind reminded him. That raw feeling he felt through your hands. It terrified you. You were scared of something.

You were lying to him. You had lied to him. You had not been speaking to yourself. You had been speaking to your mother. He supposed he could contact your mother, but you two had never formally been introduced and some parties might find that offensive.

You were eating less and less and sleeping with him less and less. You weren’t being as intimate as you usually were either and that was most alarming. Not because it was a requirement to Spock, but because it was a deviation of your behavior. Spock didn’t usually adopt Terran colloquialisms, but once after sucking him off in the lab in the middle of a gamma shift he called you a ‘dirty bird’. He always made you blush when using Terran phrases and slang.

Was it something he did? It seemed he was always doing something, but Spock could honestly not place something accidentally offensive or insulting he might have said. You were pretty good at pointing out when he was too candid or too critical. He was good at pointing out when you were too emotional and too...well too human.

Yet he relished in every bit of that-and so did you, or so he thought you had.

So what was it?

Spock didn’t chew on his nails, but found himself letting the edge of his thumb rest in his teeth.

A familiar warm hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Look alive, Spock,” the captain playfully chided.

“I assure you captain I am in no way deceased.”

x

You were pregnant. It was that simple. Yet, it didn’t feel simple at all. You wouldn’t hardly let Spock even touch you for fear of finding out. You were terrified of his response.

You were puking in the bathroom and had called your mother immediately. It was the second week in a row and Christine’s labs proved it.

You had a bun in your oven. You could see Spock giving you the quizzical brow at the use of the expression. You could see yourself fussing a little, telling him you knew that he knew exactly what that phrase meant and to stop acting like he didn’t.

It was true what you had said to Bones.

You two weren’t married. It was perfectly normal to have a child out of wedlock- that was, on Earth. You hadn’t even met his parents. What would they say? It would only be a fourth Vulcan. He didn’t speak fondly of his father and whenever prompted you could practically read how sour their relationship was. His father had to be fond of humans to some extent-his wife was human after all.

Would other Vulcans shame Spock? Would they shame your baby?

You heard a buzz from the comm. You got up out of bed and walked over.

“McCoy to Yeoman L/N.”

“Yes, doctor?”

“I’ve got a green-blooded devil down here demanding your presence.”

You groaned into your fist.

“You can’t make me.”

“Please.”

It was the first time you ever heard Spock say that. The tone was nearly pitiful as it was on edge.

x

“You can’t make anyone get a scan, Spock. She doesn’t even work in your division,” Bones said once you arrived.

“She has not been eating, sleeping, nor participating in the normal intimate recreations. Her behavior is off and her pallor has changed considerably,” Spock argued.

“That’s not of anyone’s business, Spock,” you said, appalled. He was being...so unlike himself. It was even weirder that it was in front of Bones. Spock would rather eat his hat than be any kind of vulnerable in front of...well anyone. 

“He’s...he’s just worried about you,” Nurse Chapel offered politely from afar.

You groaned, “I wish everyone would just stay out of it. I’m not ready for this.”

“Well you should’ve thought about that before you...uh” Bones started but immediately stopped when you shot him daggers, “Spock, why don’t you just ask her?’

“She has deceived me once before. I do not trust her again to be candid. She is either emotionally upset with a matter and does not want to tell me because it concerns me or she is ill and is emotional about such and does not want to tell me. Either way I am...most concerned.”

It seemed Spock would be eating his own hat later. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Was he really this worried? 

“Spock...”

He turned to you, “I apologize for involving the doctor but I do not like it when you lie. Especially when I can be of assistance.”

You could feel water brimming at your lashes. “You’re so smart, Spock. Just so damn smart I hate it.”

You sat on the edge of one of the stretchers, tears dribbling down your face.

“Now, look what you’ve done, you ass!” Bones said angrily, “Out of my bay this instant.”

Spock ignored him and knelt down in front of you.

“I can help. And if I can’t we will find a way, ashayam.”

You looked up at him. “I am upset with something...and I am sick and it does have to do with you. Both of your guesses were right.”

You held out a hand. He assumed it was to meld, but it wasn’t so as you only placed his hand palm down on your still flat abdomen.

His eyes widened. “Y/N...”

“I know I lied about talking to my mother. I was just afraid you would find out and I wasn’t... I just don’t think we’re ready. I want to be ready, but I don’t know if you’re ready. We’re not married and I don’t want to cause trouble for you on Vulcan.”

He stared at your stomach for a long time, hand unmoving.

“I do not care what others think of me on Vulcan. I do not care what they think of my t’hy’la or my child,” he said with a tone of finality, “I only care what you think. If you are not ready I will not force you to beget my children.”

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“I do not think a parent ever truly is. My mother once spoke those words to me,” he admitted, “But it is not my say in the matter whether you choose to carry out the pregnancy. Do you wish to terminate the pregnancy?”

“No, Spock.”

He rubbed your stomach gingerly, “I am sorry for my behavior, ashayam. It was most ill-mannered of me. The mother of my child deserves better treatment.”

You placed your hand over his while it was still on your stomach, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t lie to you.”

“Well, well,” the doctor spoke up from the awkward silence beside his nurse, “I guess we ought to pass around cigars now?”

It seemed you both had forgot that Bones and Christine were still even there, witnessing the sappy moment between you two. 

Spock repaired that easily. 

“I will not allow my t’hy’la to engage in such a habit or for those surrounding her to do so. Certainly, doctor, you do not permit such unhealthy behaviors to pregnant persons.”

You laughed and Bones rolled his eyes.

Another day on the Enterprise, you thought. Another day.

tagged: @groovyfluxie @dontgivedeath @lumar014 @pringtella @moonchildlonan @superninjapervert420 @love-wanderlust15 @ischysiaclark​@imyourspacegirlfriend @hiddlestonme @fandoms4ever97 @mywellspringoflife​ @rebelchild93 @nilalunis16​

#spock #spock x reader #spock x fem!reader #mister spock #mr spock #startrek #tos #pregnant reader #you guys I just got the second covid vaccine and my arm is killing me

[lunarfly]

Ok so I decided to finally post the promised: defending Romione (🥺💗💕💖💞💘) against Dr*mione (ಠಿ_ಠ) shippers.

So I've read a few posts about Dr*mione shippers, talking about why their ship is amazing (which had nothing to do with canon btw) and bashing Ron (for no reason) and I'm literally shaking out of anger.

Here are my thoughts:

1. "Ron is too dumb for hermione"

Stop- Just-

Stop.

RON IS NOT DUMB.

Yes, he might not be very interested in school subjects, but 👏 that 👏 doesn't 👏 mean 👏 he 👏 is 👏 dumb 👏.

He is actually very smart! He beat McGonagall's chess game, he is logical and quick-thinking. There's MANY examples of this that I won't name right now, but it's a canonical fact. Ron. Is. Not. Dumb.

And consider he was dumb. So? Would that stop Romione from happening? NO! Hermione didn't mind Ron not being smart. She was just upset that Ron was lazy and wouldn't study anything until the last minute. She wanted to get both Harry and Ron to study according to a schedule.

Is it clear? Intelligence doesn't determine love.

**And this is something that confuses me. This doesn't have anything to do with the point, but why does nobody realize that Harry isn't much smarter than Ron? Yes, he was better at DADA but that requires TALENT, not intelligence. And I'm pretty sure we all know that Ron is talented as well (hopefully everyone realizes that). Nobody uses the fact that Harry wasn't intelligent against Harmione, but everyone uses the fact that Ron wasn't intelligent against Romione. The double standards tear apart the fandom.

2. "Ron bought hermione perfume and Draco could get her something better."

Soooo, you're saying that just because Ron didn't have the money that Draco had means that Hermione didn't deserve Ron?

Wow, this just says a lot about you dr*mione shippers. You only care about the money that Draco has, not his personality. You don't like Ron because he's poor (and I know how FanFics give the "kind Draco" Ron's canon personality so the only "problem" with Ron is his looks and lack of money). And you don't see Hermione nor Ron the way they are. This "point" of yours is literally stating that Hermione should be a gold-digger and get Draco because he can get her the expensive presents that she deserves. Yikes.

3. "Draco can understand the emotional side of Hermione while Ron can't."

Wait

What?

WHERE DO YOU GET THIS IDEA FROM-

Draco is only EVER concerned about his own self, he is a NARCISSIST. He would NEVER care for someone (let alone Hermione) as purely and truly as he cared about himself. He didn't even care about Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson etc. He was selfish. The only reason he could express his emotions was because he had to go through a lot since he realized that killing Dumbledore wasn't as easy as bullying Hermione. This would never ever work.

And even if Ron didn't understand her as much, he STILL comforted her. Take the beginning chapters of The Deathly Hallows as an example. You'll see.

4. "Ron is too immature."

I need help.

Of course Ron was immature when he was 11!! Yes, he acted immaturely many times, yes, he made many mistakes, but guess what? He changed! He changed for Hermione!! Draco didn't change at all, not for Hermione, nor for anyone else. He remained the same bratty bully.

If you could reread the books and read prisoner of azkaban vs deathly hallows, you will definitely see how much Ron has matured. He doesn't argue with Hermione anymore, he comforts her, he's there for her. Yes, he made a mistake but he was manipulated by the horcrux! We don't blame Ginny for what tom riddle's diary made her do, do we? So stop blaming Ron!

Anyways, I think if dr*mione shippers have read the books, they'll know what I'm talking about when I say Ron changed for Hermione. I honestly don't know how you could miss Ron's character arc.

5. "Ron would be jealous of the brilliant Hermione."

What?

If I remember correctly, the reason Draco bullied the trio was because he was jealous of them. His jealousy turned into a 7 year torture for the trio and now you're saying that Ron is the jealous one? Please.

But anyways, Ron has been jealous of Harry and has made a few mistakes. But there are reasons behind them and I can defend him for each of these with arguments other than "everyone makes mistakes" (cough cough* Draco stans* cough cough).

First of all, Ron has admitted being jealous of Harry's fame because he lives with 5 older brothers who outshine him. But that's not really a mistake because he never let it get in his way. There were only 2 situations in 7 years when he left Harry out of jealousy but I think these have different explainations.

No1 Ron left in goblet of fire. I think the real reason that Ron let his jealousy get in his way this time, was not only because Harry got to participate in the tournament which could bring him eternal glory, but more likely because he was disappointed that his own best friend didn't even tell him that he was entering and didn't even help him participate (which wasn't true, but Ron thought so back then).

No2 Ron left in deathly hallows. This one was 100% because of the horcrux and I think we should all accept this by now and stop hating on Ron for being affected by dark magic.

And just like that, Ron never let his jealousy get in his way of friendships. I can't think of a situation where Ron is jealous of the brilliant Hermione so if you remember, please let me know so I can argue against it. <3

6. "Ron and Hermione would break up and remain friends, it's easy to imagine because they didn't have a strong relationship."

This was actually said, someone actually said this-

I'm just going to say that Ron and Hermione are happily married to this day (which definitely proves that their relationship is strong) and give the dr*mione community a moment of silence.

7. "Ron didn't do anything for Hermione and was just a jerk."

Coming from a person who has read and reread the books multiple times, I can assure you that Ron did many things for Hermione.

Of course, he was immature at first, he was mean to her, but slowly he started seeing more of the good in Hermione and started changing for her.

And even when he was immature, he still cared about Hermione and would protect her no matter what.

Let's remember how many times rubbish Ron stood up for Hermione against the brilliant bully Draco. 🥰

Let's remember how cowardly Ronald faced his fears of spiders to help Hermione (and the rest of the school, just how jerkier can he get?). 🥰

Let's remember how ridiculous Ronniekins stood up for Hermione against sensational Snape and got himself into detention (oh yes, this is the book version of the movie moment where Ron agrees with Snape about Hermione being an 'insufferable know-it-all'). 🥰

Let's remember how rotten Ronny comforted Hermione when she was worried about Hagrid and Buckbeak (and he even let her hug him and cry on his shoulder, how rude). 🥰

Let's remember how revolting Ronald sacrificed himself to save Harry and Hermione in the chess game. 🥰

Let's remember how horrendous Ron attempted to hex Draco when he used a slur that was meant to offend Hermione. 🥰

Keep in mind that all of these were done when Ron was still immature and still argued a lot with Hermione.

And these aren't even all.

8. "Ron and Hermione have a loveless marriage."

What the-

I'm sorry, I'm trying to be respectful here but this is crap. And the fact that the person said they also had "proof" from the c*rsed ch*ld but didn't want to spoil it-

As much as I hate the c*rsed ch*ld, I can tell you that it did its job portraying Ron and Hermione's unconditional love. Even in alternative realities, where they didn't get married, they were still in love.

And why would you even think that Ron and Hermione would marry and have kids if they didn't love each other? I need explainations.

Next.

9. "Ron never listens to Hermione."

I'm sorry, what? I'm genuinely confused??

What do you even mean by this? Yeah, they used to argue a lot, and? Ron thinks Hermione is brilliant and wonderful and he follows her advice. I can't recall a moment where Ron won't listen to Hermione, doesn't agree with her and ruins her plans. Anyone else?

Since this one is a big mess and a confusion, I'll move on to the next one until someone explains the points and arguments.

10. "Draco could make Hermione laugh while Ron couldn't."

....

Do I really need to say anything for this one?

Ron was the funniest one from the trio, that's why Harry enjoyed his company so much! Don't you remember the line in goblet of fire where Harry thinks about how much he misses having Ron as his best friend, because without him there's less fun and less laughs? I do.

But what I don't remember is finding Draco's sense of humor funny. I'm sorry but his intellectual level is almost as low as Crabbe and Goyle's. His insults are none other than Potty and Weaselbee, he only got 3 O.W.L.s and all of his jokes were stupid and dumb and their only purpose was insulting people he was jealous of.

These fanfics have rotten people's brains...😬

Anyways, I'm going to stop here. I've delayed this post for very long and I'm so excited to finally post it!

I read a book on wattpad by a dr*mione shipper and it was nothing but a giant headache. That's where I got all of these statements from. Most of the garbage in the book revolved around Draco and Hermione being inseparable and getting over all obstacles (wth) and other stupid stuff like that which really annoyed me. The book was called "why we love dr*mione" and it was by Bittenwizard. You can read and enjoy! Trust me, you'll have lots of content to post about after that 🤠👍

*I always try to be respectful to all ships, but sometimes some of them really anger me because the ships are either toxic or the arguments are plain trash. I'm sorry if I offend anyone.

Thank you for reading this. If you're a dr*mione shipper, I hope I've convinced you to give up the ship or come up with better arguments for it.

If you're an anti-dramione I hope you enjoyed the post. I'll delight you with more anti-toxic-ships content. :)

Thank you once again! <3

#ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley #ronald weasley #romione #ron and hermione #hermione and ron #hate dramione #anti dramione #dramione #draco and hermione #hermione and draco #hermione x draco #draco x hermione #ron x hermione #hermione x ron #anti draco malfoy #draco malfoy #hermione granger #anti draco x hermione #anti draco stans

[sun-summoning]

part ii | part iii | part iv

after speaking to kido, sakura rushes home. when she calms down from the rage that nearly had her crush his throat, sakura can admit that she doesn’t really think this is him. he knew a lot about her for someone that was supposed to have been locked up all this time, but he seemed genuinely surprised to hear that sarada had been taken, if not disappointed. he fit the profile of what shikamaru and kakashi thought -- that someone wanted sarada for her eyes -- but sakura can’t stop the nagging feeling that somehow this runs deeper.

back in her apartment, megumi’s body is right where she left it, and sakura feels awful for having moved so mechanically. megumi was an orphan, but she was still someone’s little girl. ashamed, sakura lays a sheet over her and swears she’ll do more later.

she heads to her bedroom and begins her work. alone, she summons one of the cats she’d made a contract with shortly after her marriage. the black cat is sleek and holds himself confidently. he’s always been an efficient one, quick to do as she needs and be competent about it. he regards sakura with a cock of his head.

“sarada’s been taken.”

“your daughter.”

“yes.” 

the cat nods. “i shall inform the clowder. if anyone spots her, i will let you know.”

“thank you.” sakura pauses, self-conscious for needing to rely on everybody else for this part. “if you...if any of you are able to come into contact with sasuke-kun, can you pease let him know too?”

“of course.”

“thank you.” sakura promises to provide the usual exchange at a later time and the cat disappears with a puff of smoke. she heads to her bedroom and she begins to pack in silence. 

her movements are as meticulous as they are automatic, done just so she’s ready to leave the moment she knows where she needs to go. her medkit is stocked. her bag has scrolls, weapons, supplies, and sarada’s favourite toy. she changes out of her days clothes and into the leggings and turtleneck of a uniform she hasn’t worn in years. her cloak is in the front closet. she needs to change her boots. she’ll put on the boots now. she leaves the armour on her bed to don later. right now, they only hinder her movements. she goes to the drawer where her mask hides in plain sight among other trinkets and knick knacks, and on the dresser she notices a flower.

sakura stills as she takes in the detail she must have missed in her earlier haste. she considers the simple glass vase and the single red flower sitting in it. its petals curl at the ends and some are even missing. 

this flower has travelled and as sakura considers what it is, she knows it’s travelled far. 

-

konoha became unbearable by the time she tuned twenty. it's so petty and selfish and she'd never say it aloud, but she hated seeing everyone else so happy. she's happy too -- has so many reasons to be -- but she couldn’t help the nagging jealousy she feels when ino declined her invitations because she was going to see sai or when naruto prioritized her almost always only to head home to hinata.

she wanted to be someone's too. she wanted to be their focus and heart and home, but sakura already knew who her someone was and knew that on some level she was his too, so all she needs to do right now is wait.

most of the time, sakura wasn’t bitter. being apart from him wasn't unfamiliar, nor the steadfastness, nor the hope that one day this will pay off one day, nor the self reminders that what she felt was irrelevant as long as sasuke knew and was comforted by the fact that she would always love him.

to suppress her frustrations rather than confront them, sakura worked. she worked tirelessly and relentlessly and by nineteen, they'd named her the greatest medical ninja konoha has ever seen for her accomplishments, ideas, and innovations.

this took her to suna at twenty and to ame at twenty-one to help establish their own clinics.

“i have a gift for you,” ino told her before she left. 

sakura expected a ribbon or a piece of jewellery or that new book on poisons she mentioned she was interested in. instead, ino handed her a bag. its contents shift, imbalanced, and inside sakura finds a potted plant. 

“a flower?”

“not just any flower, you ungrateful bitch.” ino pointed at her accusingly and then at the plant. its petals are a bright red with darker flecks at their base. “i made it.”

“you made it?”

“yes. you know me, interrogating and mind-reading by day, splicing plants together and making my own by night.”

“that’s sad.”

“fuck you. you’re sad.”

sakura laughed and ino laughed too but it got a bit sad because ino probably definitely knew that sakura was sad. “anyway,” ino continued, “we’ll call it the sakuino flower--”

“how creative.”

“--and i expect you to keep it alive through all of your travels.”

sakura frowned at ino, wondering if ino understood that a potted plant had no place in her travels, but ino didn’t seem to care. moreover, this particular thing didn’t seem to have the ability to survive in the desert climate she was going to be living in for the next six months. 

when sakura expressed as much, ino waved the matter off. “deal with it,” she said, giving sakura one last hug. “you’re one of the brightest minds to come out of this village. you’ll figure something out.”

-

its common name is the fire poppy, having originated from the fire country but somehow managing to survive in the deserts of wind country as well. the flower is know for its vibrant red petals, eye-catching and jarring across the barren brown it’s normally found in. sakura had to play with the original plant’s physiology when she first moved to ensure it could survive the alternate climate. in her spare time, when she wasn’t working with the kids, she deigned to work with her plant, eventually working on cloning the original. at some point she’d given one to a nurse she worked with who much admired the first, and gaara asked if he could try planting them in his garden. from there, the spores began to spread.

“why the fire poppy?”

was this someone from suna?

sakura considers the obvious motivation of revenge, but who would even want that? there were people who didn’t appreciate her friendship with kankuro or any of his siblings. perhaps an apprentice of chiyo’s who blamed sakura for not saving her when she gave her life for gaara’s. worse, perhaps someone that once worked sasori who resented her for his demise. or maybe someone she, sadly, can’t even remember. a patient she lost during the war whose family hated her.

sakura truly cannot pinpoint a motivation for this, much less a person. 

especially a person that would understand the meaning of this flower for her. 

ino would never give her this flower. ino would have scoffed at it and created her own. sarada couldn’t have picked it today. and sasuke certainly couldn’t have left it for her.

someone was in her apartment. someone brought it here. 

was it here before?

sakura considers the poppy and forces herself to keep calm. stay logical, she demands. stay smart. was the poppy there before? no, she thinks at first. she would have seen it. she’s certain she would have seen it.

but, she can accept, it’s possible she might have missed it. sarada was taken. her babysitter was murdered. it wouldn’t be surprising if sakura missed it. but sakura doesn’t miss things. right?

“don’t gaslight yourself,” she orders. 

no, she knows. the flower was not there before, meaning in between her going to kakashi, going to the prison, and then running back home, whoever took her daughter came back.

or worse, there was a team involved and one was with her child and another came back for her. 

sakura curses, wishing she’d put on her black ops armour earlier, because whoever brought the flower here is now making their presence known. she senses two people before she sees them and is unsurprised to find sudden flares of strength.

the bedroom is small and they’re in a building. she needs to take this outside, but where? there’s too much risk for others getting hurt in the crossfire. that’s why this was supposed to stay quiet. that’s why this will stay quiet.

they step out of the shadows and sakura assesses them quickly. one male, one female, both fairly young based on stature and development, maybe early twenties at the oldest. they’ll have agility on her, but they won’t have her experience. 

the man holds a chokuto. good. an advantage. sakura is excellent at fighting against such a weapon. if they’re foolish enough to use her husband’s favourite sort of blade, perhaps they didn’t do enough research on her. perhaps they were hired? but if they were unprepared, then were they really here to kill her? 

are they here to distract her?

that thought fills sakura with dread. is someone trying to keep her busy so she can’t get to sarada on time?

the woman shifts, one leg sliding to the side as she raises her hands. she holds no weapons, therefore she is the weapon. sakura knows all about that. she’ll need to be careful with this one. but she still has a holster on her thigh. it’s thinner that the usual styles. maybe a couple kunai, but more likely a set of sebon. this one is smart then. she’ll know precisely where she needs to hit sakura to stop her.

“haruno sakura,” the man greets with a short nod.

so it is her fault.

if this was about sasuke, about the uchiha, they would know her married name. this is about her, and for that sakura feels worse. her baby was taken and why? just to hurt sakura before killing her? sarada was who knows where with surely no one that could be good and all just to hurt sakura?

sakura snarls, furious in a way only a mother could be, and she feels the chakra pulsing around her fists.

“where is my daughter?”

their masks hide any expressions. they remain at ease in the face of her rage, shockingly unafraid of this woman that can level mountains. 

good, sakura thinks. let them be brave. let them come at her like fools. 

she runs through the bedroom door to get to the living room where there’s at least more space to maneuver. the man leaps and brings his blade down upon her, but sakura manages to shift to the side. careful to not be forced into a corner, she spins out of his range and into the open middle until the woman runs past her partner and takes sakura on hand-to-hand.

she matches sakura’s punches and kicks blow for blow. she’s good, sakura thinks nervously. and she’s fast. she’s small, maybe half a head shorter than sakura, so she puts her weight behind every quick jab. sakura gives most of her attention to the woman, but keeps a wary on eye on the man who sheathes his chokuto.

what as he planning?

it takes that one moment for the woman to catch her unaware. 

sakura chokes on her breath as the woman thrusts a senbon into her shoulder. the shock from that slows her down enough so she can lodge in a second.

“shit,” sakura curses as she stumbles back. she rips the senbon out, but she feels her left arm begin to go numb from the struck pressure point. “what did you do--”

sakura’s eyes widen she she feels something foreign begin to course through her. she considers the senbon, dark with her blood and likely something else. there’s a metallic smell that isn’t from the weapon, and sakura knows she’s been poisoned.

however, her body doesn’t bother to fight it. 

sakura watches her opponents, trying to understand how she’s been poisoned with something she’s immune to and just what poison this might be. she’s immune to everything in konoha’s own collection, as well as the ones she shares with shizune.

which poison is this?

does that matter?

sakura scowls at the two people involved in her daughter’s kidnapping and reminds herself that she can take them on one-handed just fine. she pulls her right hand into a fist and charges. the man is closest, so she lunges at him with a chakra-laden punch that sends him barreling into the wall. 

she grabs the front of his shirt and as she pulls him forward, his mask falls away to reveal green eyes, cold and lifeless, and a black diamond under his left eye that makes her uneasy.

sakura stares at the man, confused, because she knows this face.

she knows him.

her fear and pain and worry makes it hard to focus, but knows him. 

focus.

finally, it clicks. 

“isao?”

she thinks she might have seen something like recognition in his eyes. that doesn’t long though. she left herself open, and his partner stabs her shoulder. sakura releases isao with a cry before the woman punches her in the back of the head and everything goes dark.

-

the sun is up when sakura begins to stir. she hears the birds chirping and people outside going about their days. but the buzz of the television is missing, as are the small thuds of sarada’s steps. where is sarada? sakura wonders hazily, lazily, not quite understanding yet.

where is sarada?

her eyes widen and she sits up so quickly her stomach rolls.

“careful.” tsunade comes into view, steadying sakura and checking her for any problems. “you’re still healing.”

she’s in her own bed. she’s not at the hospital. she got knocked out and the assassins got away. she should’ve done something to track them. dammit. was she so arrogant she didn’t have a failsafe in place for if she didn’t simply beat them? sakura punches the bed, earning a disapproving frown from shizune on her other side.

“there was poison in your system.” 

“it was one of ours,” sakura admits warily. 

“yes. there are very few people with access to those, much less this particular one.”

the one that the assassin used was meant to render a victim paralyzed but still able to feel. it was a dreadful thing, meant only for the worst of interrogations. or, more accurately, for torture. sakura concocted it in her darkest moments at fourteen under shizune’s watchful eye. since then, while they’ve both had small handfuls of keen students, they’ve probably shared poisons from their personal roster with only five people at most.

for this particular poison, sakura knows only two people they showed it to, and only one of those was a student of sakura’s.

“how did you find me?”

tsunade rolls her eyes. “shizune sent you off to a prison from kakashi’s office. i figured i’d have to check on you shortly after. and it’s a good thing i did, stupid girl.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me. i’m scolding on you.”

“did they find anything useful?”

“no one’s been able to contact your husband.”

“right.”

“and they’re still under the impression that this has to do with the uchiha blood.” 

“they would be,” sakura mutters, too tired and in too good company to be anything but blunt.

shizune sighs. “do you know who came after you last night?” the flower is still where she left it on the dresser. shizune follows her gaze to the fire poppy, and all knowing with plants as well, shizune determines its origins. “how did that get here?”

“i think it was to taunt me.” sakura grimaces. “you were right.”

“about?”

“i think this is my fault.”

shizune’s eyes widen and quickly soften with sympathy. “none of this your fault,” she reminds sakura. 

tsunade crosses her arms. “enemies of yours then?”

“no.” sakura looks sad. “people i once loved.”

-

tbc

[gojoscloset]

“Hello, I just read your writing d**k appointment and I like it very much. And suddenly, I saw that you open the request NSFW dialogue prompts. Would you please write prompt 60 “Looks like someone wants to be a dad/mom” with Gojo or Megumi please 🥺”

Bahaha omg I’m so sorry I’m late as hell I’ve been busy with a lot mentally cause I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Please please enjoy, thank you so much for requesting lol. I’m back on my bullshit ✨

60. “Looks like someone wants to be a mom/dad”

WARNINGS: N S F W

Reposted from previous account

Smut obvs.

Breeding kink???? (if you squint)

Cream pie

Mentions of Pregnancy

No proofread??

————-

“Looks like someone wants to be a mom.”

You didn’t dare look away from what you thought had to be one of the cutest pairs of baby shoes you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Hmm? What do you mean? I just thought they were cute!” you lifted the pair of shoes up and gave your boyfriend a grin.

But Satoru was no idiot.

You see, these past few months have been filled with nothing but waves of emotions and ideas that you would have never thought you would have contemplated this early in life, but a pregnancy scare earlier in the year shook your world and turned it on its axis.

Of course you had imagined a life with Satoru, possibly married in the later years, and a potential family way wayyy down the line. However, you were content with where you two stood. A strong and healthy relationship, 2 consenting adults in love. But you also had to remember you were 2 powerful sorcerers in love. So even with your line of work, kids at the moment seemed really out of the question. Hell, even being in a relationship with someone like Satoru was a blessing with the lives you two lived. So even the idea of bearing his child seemed like you were asking for a lot from the universe.

When your period came late, all your little fantasies and thoughts of having a family took a step closer to becoming reality, you melted at the idea of becoming a mother and all your fears and doubts were thrown out the window.

But alas, the joy left just as fast as it came you were back on your regular schedule the day before your doctor's appointment. Relieved of course, but things weren’t the same.

Day after day you caught yourself indulging more and more in the idea of what your life would be like with a child. Would your first child be a girl or a boy? Whose features would they take on the most? Oh how you prayed to the gods that they would look more like Satoru than anything.

Would you be a good mother? Would Satoru be a good father? There was no doubt in your mind that he would be.

Don’t even get started on the names.

Your gaze would linger when you would pass up children and their parents at a park. Or when you would pass up baby clothes at the shopping strip, you would stop in your tracks and imagine your future child wearing that outfit.

Secretly you would shop for clothes online just to ‘see what they look like’ Or secretly read first time mom forums on breddit just to ‘See how it feels’ but it was so much more than just a passing curiosity.

And of course, You weren’t the only one who noticed the change.

You and Satoru have been in the love game for a respectable amount of time, and have spent the seconds, hours,days,weeks,months,years, in each other's presence. He would absolutely be able to acknowledge when you’d turn your head in the kids section or when your gaze would linger on the little girls in princess dresses at the market, corners of your lips curling just a little.

Or when a toddler at the grocery store handed him a fake phone,in which he pretended to answer with such enthusiasm you would almost believe he was actually on the phone with someone,he could visibly see how your heart melted at the sight. You looked at him like you wanted to marry him on the spot for the rest of the day. A personal favorite memory of his.

Satoru was a dumbass, but he was not stupid.

You didn’t know how much he loved seeing these little things, the little changes in you. Behind his tinted shades and through his long lashes, he would carefully watch your duality go from powerful sorcerer to something maternal.Something you never did in all the time he has known you until after the scare.

It made him want to jump your bones on the spot and put a baby in you every time, but you never brought up the topic despite seeming to be interested in motherhood, and respectfully he left it alone. But you had been caught red handed almost always.

Satoru held himself back when he had various opportunities to talk about it, do you know how hard that is to do as Satoru?

He wanted to press on. He wanted to pry and ask you all kinds of questions regarding the sudden change, but he knew that there was a time and place for everything, and now was definitely not the time nor location.

“Hey, not bad!” He allowed his glasses to slip off the bridge if his nose ever so slightly to get a better view.

“I would wear these if they came in my size”

He joked, you smacked his arm playfully and laughed.

“Cmon lets g-“

You were about to place the shoes back on the rack but he stopped you before you did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the shoes and tag.

“I was being serious” he stated plainly, earning another laugh from the both of you.

——

The rest of the day went on as normal, for the most part. The little interaction at the store replayed not only in your mind but Satoru’s as well.

‘Did I make it too obvious?’

‘Did I overdo it with the shoes?’

‘Is it time to talk about it?’

—-

‘Toru..’ you whined but that didn’t stop him from continuing to bend you like a pretzel while plowing into you.

“Don’t be shy now, you look so good like this. ...And those faces you make....” he licked his lips reaching out to grab your jaw, thumb running across your lip.

Even though you were whining about the embarrassing positions he kept putting you in, your body was on fire and didn’t want this to end.

With every position he managed to go deeper and deeper, hitting places only he knew how to hit. He utilized the curve of his dick just how you liked it, grazing your favorite spots with every thrust.

The way your walls fluttered and clenched against his made them his favorite spots too.

It was crazy to you how Satoru knew your body like nobody else did. He knew every curve, every dip, every corner. He knew what made you weak in the knees and what you disliked with a passion. He knew what made you cream, what made you wet, what made your back arch and your toes curl.

“You like that Hmm?” He bucked his hips, folding your legs up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as possible.

He gazed into your eyes, watching the way your face wrenched in pleasure. He needed that, he loved that. Being able to see your expression contour and twist because of him, god it got him off.

He looked down at you, his usually spiky hair now flattened with sweat, strands sticking to the side of his face. He bit his lip, and gripped your hips with force, bruises were guaranteed.

He brought you closer, you slowed your breathing to control the ride. You two had been fucking long enough to know the Cues, the way your body twitched and the little sounds you would make when you were close triggered the muscle memory and he moved in the way he knew would push you over the edge.

“D..Don't slow down!” You commanded, throwing your head back into the sheets, the familiar tingling sensation starting at your core, his pace picking up, hands trailing down your abdomen, fingers circling around your clit, wet with its own slick.

He couldn’t help but suck on his own bottom lip watching your body rock in rhythm with his, the way your breast bounced, he couldn’t help but grab a handful.

“That’s right baby….” he spoke softly, voice just above the lewd sounds you two we’re making. The squelching, skin slapping skin, the gasping sounds when he would thrust back into you.

He was getting carried away, letting the words just spill from his lips. “Mmmm fuck yeah baby, you feel so fucking good.” He groaned “fuck around and put a baby in you-“

You had been with this man for many many moons, had been through thick and thin, but nothing had prepared you two for that awkward moment.

All movements ceased the second he stopped talking. Both of you pulled away and just looked at each other, embarrassment demonstrated on both of your faces.

Both of you seemed to think about the Barget incident, and then every other incident which made the dirty talk hit different.

“Sorry” Quickly he spoke, in hopes of somehow saving his ass in case things went south.

“W-what for?” You continued to try and mask your feelings about the situation(s), but nothing could get past his eyes.

He was no idiot, you knew that, but you still tried him, because sometimes he lets your shit slide. But not this time.

“Please y/n, I’ve seen the change in you.”

The air was thick, momentarily, but the smile on his face gave you clarity.

“The lingering looks, the shoes at the store… I’ve noticed” his large hands cupped your face, thumb brushing calming shapes against your cheek.

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

He released you from your position and sat up straight.

“Toru…do you really wanna talk about this now?????” Sheepish under the circumstances

“Don’t give me that. We’ve been together too long for you to try and play this game with me.”

His hands found their way to you once again. Pulling you by the wrists, he sat you up and made you look at him as he continued to speak.

“Communication remember?” He was soft, yet stern.

“You haven’t been the same since the missed period incident.” Your jaw dropped, he was on it even with the timing.

There was no sense in hiding anything anymore, this man knows all, this man sees all.

“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong….you see..” you began to pour your heart out, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“The pregnancy scare heightened the want for a family with you, Satoru. I envision a lot of things, and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

He held your gaze while looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He listened intently like you were whispering the secrets of the universe to him.

“But I never brought up the topic of family because we’re-“

“Sorcerers” He finished the sentence for you, the small smile he held earlier now turned into a flat line.

The speed in which he did was almost enough to make you flinch. Bittersweet in a way,at least this confirmed that he too thought about a family with you at one point but considered the circumstances.

A“Exactly..” you continued. “And the scare made me realize what I want in life..with you. But it’s out of reach and it’s not something I wanted to project onto- “

His large hands placed themselves in either side of your face and Satoru showered you with kisses.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He spoke in between kisses.

“I love you too, but- AH!!! What are you doing??!”

Satoru pulled you by your ankles, placing himself in between your legs once again.

“Putting a baby in you, that's what.” He gave you such a sweet and loving look, it didn’t match the words that spewed from his lips.

“T-that’s not funny…” Quickly, you covered your entrance before he even thought about it.

“Exactly, because it wasn’t a joke sweetheart.”

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll be fine, i’m the strongest, remember?” he gave you a playful wink and grabbed your wrists, playfully prying your hands away, he wasn’t going to do anything though, not without your consent, but seeing how flustered he could make you fed the already enlarged ego he owned.

“Now tell me, do you want a boy or girl? Ooh, what about their names?”

“ Satoru… wait… are you sure? Don’t you wanna think about it a little more?”

He let out a playful laugh and pointed a finger dramatically at you, “Are you sure?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, you wanted this so bad, and by the looks of it, so did he.

“That’s all you had to say, let me take care of you, my pillow princess”

-------------

The sultry night was young.How many times have you came already? It didn’t matter.

His arms were wrapped around your entire body, holding you in place as he bounced you up and down his shaft.

“My pretty girl… my sweet sweet princess.” He whispered against your skin, tongue grazing from your collar bone up to your jaw, tasting your sweat. He wanted to breathe you in, and make you his air. The words replayed in his mind as he fucked you senseless.

“and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

“Toru…” Your breathing hitched,, his praise made your walls twitch around him. He got the hint and immediately went to work. In a swift movement you were beneath his form. His skin glistening with a layer of sweat.

“ How do you want it?” he groaned, draping your leg over his shoulder while grabbing the other one, spreading you wider. You were grateful for the change of position, you have been wanting to touch him for a while now but the grip he had you in earlier was not letting it happen.

Your hands hungrily made his way to his chest and arms.

“As long...as I get it…” you managed to mutter through moans. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was coming undone as well.

“Look at me..tell me how you want it....tell me how you need it” he licked his lips with desire. You managed to look at him through half lidded eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted, he always did the same for you.

You lifted your hips up some, grinding harder against him, letting more of him fill you up, you could swear you felt his head kiss your cervix. You did a kegel, walls giving his dick a hug.

The actions earned you a breathy moan, he almost lost his cool, it threw off his pace momentarily but when he picked back up, the speed was doubled.

“You like to play dirty, hmm? “

“The only way I like to play…”

“Very well then” he said through grit teeth, finger moving to where you were connected, rubbing your clit in circles without mercy. You were pushed over the edge quickly, mouth Ajar, and body convulsing against him, his movements did not falter.

“That’s my good girl”

He lowered his body down mouth to cage you between his arms, droplets of sweat falling onto the sheets as he tried to avoid sweat falling into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He asked once again, not moving an inch until you gave him the go.

You simply stared up at him, goofy grin he always carried on him plastered onto his handsome face.

You gave him the go once again and he bucked his hips.

This particular moment was sweet sweet bliss. Normally Satoru would be careless with his movements when it came to chasing his orgasm, but not this particular one. His touches would linger, fingertips burning themselves into your skin with passion, making their way from your hips to your hands, large fingers filling in the gaps between your own.

His kisses were oh so immaculate. Sweet and soft, but most importantly, abundant.

And the way he spoke your name. Only Satoru could make his words come out like they were coated in honey.

His hips snapped and he gave your hand a squeeze, face in the crook of your neck, the hot breath against your skin forced chills down your spine, with you

“I love you so much…” he groaned into your ear. With a few more bucks of his hips you felt his seed spill into you. You were running on fumes at this point, overkill with the overstim, but that’s how you liked it.

You felt your clit throb, your walls still fluttering against him from your previous climax like they were sucking every last drop of out of him.

He looked down at you silently, but the look on his face, the calm waters in his eyes said everything he needed to say. You couldn’t tear away your gaze, you were already high off the blue dream.

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, they looked needy to him. He bent his head down and planted a kiss, despite the scenario, it was chaste. Innocent. Refreshing.

“I love you.” He repeated, though he had no doubt you felt the same. “I know you do...there is not a single doubt in my mind...and I love you oh so very much, more than I could ever put in words.”

There was another comfortable silence, however, the small smile that was on your face quickly turned into a flustered look when he pulled out of you and spread your legs open, looking at the mess he made inside of you.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!!”

You laughed nervously and tried closing your legs, but he held them open, too strong for you to try and fight against it.

“I just wanted to see the masterpiece I made. Plus-“ he positioned himself between your legs again

“I’m not done, I want to make sure I get the job done right.”

He gave you a wink, and immediately you knew you were in for a long night.

A very very long night.

#jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo #Nasty Nept✨