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#which is why it's a 'some think it was genuine some think it wasn't' kind of deal
aperrywilliams · 1 day
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It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?
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Reader's POV
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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.
I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home. 
It doesn't feel like it yet. 
But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.
Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up? 
How naive of me.
I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.
Again, it's tomorrow's problem.
Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.
The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.
He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable. 
What a shame.
When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.
I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.
But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.
The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.
Fuck it. 
Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.
Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.
Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?
Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.
Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.
It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.
Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.
It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.
Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.
Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.
I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.
It was horrible until it wasn't.
I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.
Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?
-
Monday morning comes faster than I wanted. 
I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.
Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.
On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.
This Monday will be a blast.
Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.
"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.
"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.
"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."
The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name. 
I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.
My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.
I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.
Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.
I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.
Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.
Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.
My ex didn't. And as him, many others.
I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.
Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.
Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.
"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.
"Of course. I promised I would."
Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.
"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.
"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.
It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.
I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.
"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."
Andie nods in understanding.
"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"
Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.
That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.
"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."
"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night. 
I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.
"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."
Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.
"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.
"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"
"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.
The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.
"Do you think you'll see him again?"
I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'
That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?' 
Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?
"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.
"But do you want to?"
That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.
"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."
A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.
She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.
Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.
Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.
----
A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there. 
Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.
But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.
I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.
I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.
"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."
I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.
With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.
I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.
Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.
"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.
Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.
"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.
"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.
"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.
"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."
Weird. 
Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.
"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.
"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"
A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.
Wait. I know that voice. 
I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.
I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.
"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.
"Uh?"
"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.
"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.
"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.
"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."
"To you, sir. Have a good evening."
I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.
Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.
"(Y/N), wait!"
I turn and see him trotting towards me.
"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.
Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago. 
"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"
What's wrong with me? 
Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?
"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.
"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."
Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?
"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.
I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.
"Yeah, me too."
Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...
"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."
Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.
Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.
"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.
"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Yeah?"
"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."
----
This time, it's my turn to pick the place.
It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.
As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.
"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."
There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.
"What about yours?"
Now is my turn to talk about my boss.
"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."
The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala. 
When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.
"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.
"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.
"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.
So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.
"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.
"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."
That's interesting. I want to know more about that.
"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.
Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.
I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.
"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."
"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.
"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."
What? Kick doors down?
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"
I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."
I roll my eyes. That's not the point.
"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"
Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.
Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"
He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."
I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"
Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.
"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.
Gosh, that smile.
"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."
Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.
"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."
Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.
"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."
Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.
It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.
"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.
"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.
I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.
"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."
"Fair enough."
After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.
"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."
Spencer's brow furrows.
"Ray is your ex?"
Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.
Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.
"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.
"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.
I chuckle. "Hell, he is."
It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.
"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.
"No. Don't do that. I invited you."
Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless. 
"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."
Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.
We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.
"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.
"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.
"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes. 
Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.
"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.
"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.
"So you really like my company, uh?" 
I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.
"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.
The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.
I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.
Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.
"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."
Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.
Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.
"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.
"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.
Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.
I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.
"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling. 
I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.
"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."
Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!
"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"
Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.
"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.
"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.
I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.
A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.
"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.
"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.
"Bet I won't."
"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."
"Good night, (Y/N)."
I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.
Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.
Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.
I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.
Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)? 
Whatever it is, it feels so good.
-------------
A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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fairuzfan · 1 day
Note
Oh hi, sorry to bother you again but I just realised something: I sent in the ask about Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, and I only now came to think that that could be interpreted as me thinking every palestinian somehow knows what other palestinians think or something. And that is in no way what I was after. The point was something like... whether he's a known person in the palestinian diaspora or the pro-Palestine community on Turtle Island or smth? And if people have... idk, opinions about him or something , because I'd never heard of him before and the stuff he writes is just so... mindboggling. (just wanted to send in this for clarification, not expecting a reply because I know you have so much more important stuff on your mind)
Oh no worries I wasn't ignoring your last one I just didn't know how best to approach it. I totally got what you mean. But yeah I haven't heard of the guy before the past few months and the only time I see him is when he's shared by zionists. I don't see him shared by any Palestinians in Gaza, I don't see any Palestinians on turtle island share him, so I wouldn't put much stake in his words tbh. And I'm not saying this lightly, I was worried that saying something about him since he obviously has family in Gaza would be in poor taste, but all I can say is that he.... is not popular.
I posted about him before when some other Palestinians were passing his tweets around in a "get a load of this guy" kind of way (so not endorsing him). He also has worked for the US military+went to school there and I guess he's involved with weapons manufacturers in some way because he's "interested" in it, according to his linked in.
I genuinely can't tell you why he's doing all this. For some reason, he seems to think that we can protest hamas...? Even though, repeatedly, the only one that can make a ceasefire happen is Israel. He seems to want to force the "pro palestine" movement to protest hamas into giving back the hostages but like... idk if he understands how protesting works.
He calls it the "israel-palestine conflict" which, i cannot emphasize enough, no palestinian says in casual spaces. None of us say this. Literally the biggest tell that shows hes a collaborator. I've seen him publish straight up lies in his articles recently too. He's not very common or popular among Palestinians on Turtle Island, at least.
Also in a tweet he posted recently, he literally gave up the right of return and redefined it to only specific locations in Palestine, which Palestinians have been adamant that it is ALL of Palestine we are returning to.
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manicpixiefelix · 2 days
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 22.
Summary: After mostly resolving your issues regarding Oliver and Venetia, it's much easier to enjoy the time leading up to the dinner with the Henrys. Still, Oliver seems more than a little nervous to be around you and Felix, much to Felix's ongoing chagrin. He wonders how long it will take for Oliver to take the hint.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
A/N: 3044 words. oh yeah, its all coming together. :) i know the last few updates have been kind of spaced out, so i'd love to get some feedback from you lovely folks about how you think it's coming along now that we're in the back half.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
One day - probably one day soon - you'd have to tell Felix the truth about Oliver and Venetia. By that time, you reasoned, you'd have come up with a way to say it that would make him see why you hadn't called Oliver out for lying, and why you'd kept it from him. His gut reaction, like your own, was to immediately jump to the worst possible, malevolent conclusion. Based on past events, it was a sound conclusion to jump to. But Oliver's not Eddie. It was a moment of weakness, and Oliver really does love Felix. Somehow you'd find a way to make this painless, perhaps even a way to show how much Oliver cared, because that's what you'd seen, that's the why behind your own deception.
Except Felix wasn't even ready to admit out loud to himself, let alone you, or god forbid Oliver, that he genuinely felt that way about him. Even if he definitely, clearly did. But again, past heartbreak makes some of his trepidation far more excusable.
At least you have a distraction for the afternoon - not Oliver, no, he would never be so bold in direct sunlight as to do anything more than make out with you on the pool lounge. No, this distraction wasn't a particularly good one.
The NDA from your parents, sitting in your study.
Part of you knows you should probably have a lawyer look over this, but there was something about the idea of involving yet another person in your parents ongoing attempts to abandoned you that left a sour taste in your mouth. So that left you to look over it all on your own. The sticky-hot afternoon in the study wears thin on your nerves, but irritation was all that ever came of it, not upset or disappointment. Reconciling with Oliver probably had quite a bit to do with it.
Dinner is a welcome reprieve. When Oliver smiles at you across the table, there's a weight that's lifted from your shoulders are you smile back. Felix too is in notably high spirits, though he's decidedly not talking to Venetia; his parents don't seem to mind, however, as long as he's happier than when he'd started the day.
"Is there anything planned for after dinner?" Oliver asked, eyes wide and earnest as he looks around the table, all present sharing an equally confused look as if one of them may have planned something all the others had forgotten.
"Not as far as I'm aware," Sir James offers after a moment.
"Tomorrow will be quite the busy night," Elspeth elaborates with ease, "I'm sure we'd all like to conserve our energy."
"Last chance to cancel dinner with the Henrys," Felix says, already knowing it's not a real option, even after Elspeth chides him for the suggestion, that they'd already had all the food brought and extra help hired.
"Has the seating chart been organised yet?" You asked hopefully, to which Elspeth smiled when her gaze landed upon you, assuring you she'd finalised it that afternoon, turning only to remind Duncan to have it delivered to your study that evening.
"You'll be seated next to Henry of Suffolk, dear," she also tells you, and immediately you're filing that information away in the back of your mind. Henry of Suffolk, partner at Richmond & Suffolk Legal; his late wife was named Clarice, he had a daughter and son a few years younger than you... their names escaped you at that moment.
Beside you, Felix is shamelessly admiring you.
"What?" You ducked your head to try and hide your embarrassed grin.
"Just watching your mind work," he teased with a laugh which had you rolling your eyes with fond exasperation.
"So you can see the cogs too then?" Venetia giggles across the table, though Farleigh chimes in before Felix has the chance to give his sister a look.
"Surprised there's not steam coming out of their ears."
"I'm not a robot," you insisted, flustered by the attention and their combined teasing.
"Just your beautiful brain then," Oliver adds fondly, and out of sheer surprise you look up to meet his endeared gaze as he looks back at you. When had he been let in on that particular joke, you wondered? Something in the back of your mind is sure that it was Venetia, after all, she was the one who most often referred to your 'robot brain' as such, but you don't have it in you to be upset. You never do at these jokes, even though you may occasionally protest about them, they're always intended as a compliment.
And there's no way you could be mad with Oliver looking at you like that.
Dinner continues on with very little fuss after that, and you return to your study feeling much lighter than you had before. Felix joins you, complaining about how you'd spent all afternoon in here, and he couldn't bare to think of you spend all evening alone in here too. Of course he knows that Oliver will more than likely join you when it gets late enough, but he's brought a book, and has quietly claimed the sofa beneath the window for himself. These nights have never been uncommon, but this Summer has seemed especially busy at Saltburn, so you more than welcome his quiet company as the day's heat slowly burns away.
It's not long before there's someone approaching your door.
"It's Duncan," you say, mostly for Felix's benefit, before the butler himself knocks and you invite him in.
"The seating arrangements for tomorrow night's event, Captain," Duncan says graciously, giving you the faintest smile as he hands the document over and turns swiftly on his heel, practically evaporating into the darkness of the house silently.
"Still have no idea how you do that," Felix sounds rather impressed from where he's draped himself over the sofa.
"Do what?" You asked distractedly, examining the seating chart in the golden glow of the lamp.
"How you know exactly who's coming and going without even seeing them."
"Duncan was just being courteous for me," you mutter off-handily, "if I'd heard nothing before he'd knocked, I'd still know it was him."
"You know that's even more impressive, right?" Felix laughs, and finally you turn to him, only to see him watching you like he can't quite believe what you're saying. Sometimes you find yourself surprised by the Cattons, and how little they seem to understand or appreciate about the Estate on which they live.
"No, what's impressive is that I can tell what kind of mood your in half the time just by the sound of your footsteps," you tells him with a grin.
"Now you're lying," Felix snorts, shaking his head. But you continue.
"No, seriously Fi, it's not always entirely accurate, but it's pretty close; I'm not quite there with the rest of your family, but I think I know you well enough."
"That's like, stalker levels of dedication," but his smile is bright in the light of the moon, and his tone turns teasing, "do you have a thing for me or something?"
"I wouldn't go that far," you huffed a laugh, playing along with the bit.
"Shame," he sighed dramatically, "I was really hoping you did, 'cos I kind of have a thing for you."
"I wouldn't if I were you," finally standing, you sauntered over to him, smirking as he beamed up at you, thoroughly pleased by this silly little bit, "that sounds like a scandal waiting to happen."
"Call the tabloids then," Felix laughed softly as he welcomed you into his arms.
"Any stalker-like tendencies of yours I should be worried about?" You asked, settling against him, leaning into him.
"Yeah, I've got a bunch of your things in my room," Felix murmurs right before you kiss him, grinning as you do so. Things devolve from there to the two of you making out in the moonlight, giggling together, teasing nonsense passed back and forth as the moon rose higher in the sky.
"Ollie's at the door," you see fit to finally tell Felix, who looks down at you with wide, surprised eyes. Sheepishly you admit, "he's been there for like five minutes." It's getting terribly late, but you really don't want to go bed right now, or go anywhere that isn't here, in this moment. Felix snorts a laugh, face scrunching up with something close to embarrassment; he knows letting Oliver get away with this kind of thing is part of the game you're all playing, but it still catches him off guard with just how aware you were of the whole situation.
"Ollie," Felix called out, and you both heard a him start behind the study door, "Christ, mate, don't linger," he insists, righting both him and yourself to something more respectable on the sofa, but still insisting on holding you close, "come in already." You're practically in his lap.
Like a deer in the headlights, looking absolutely mortified at being caught out, Oliver pushes the door open and faintly apologises, telling you both he didn't want to interrupt.
"Interrupt what?" Felix says far too easily, smile wide and a bit coy, "nothing to interrupt," though you can hear it for what it is; nothing you, Oliver, could ever interrupt if you simply asked to join. How long would it take Oliver to realise this, you wondered; Felix is getting less subtle by the day.
"I was going to ask -" Oliver pauses, focus stolen by the way Felix presses a kiss to your shoulder, before his gaze returns to your face, your expectant smile. Felix knows exactly what he's doing, "um, was going to ask about the seats for the dinner tomorrow?" Oliver manages, "I don't... know the Henrys?"
As you stand, Felix lets out a loud, disappointed sigh, but lets you go, returning to his book. Every movement, every sound Felix makes captivates Oliver in this moment, and both you and Felix are more than aware of this. Still, you swan over to your desk, looking over the seating chart before you usher Oliver over.
"They've got you next to Ven and Lady Daphne," you show him, pointing out his place along the table, "she's Henry's wife," you add wryly, and hear Felix bark a laugh behind you. Oliver, for a moment, seems confused, gaze flicking between you both.
"Aren't all the -?"
"That's the joke, Ollie," you tell him, but he still seems too nervous to properly see the humour in it, just making a faint noise of understanding in the back of his throat. "Did you want to hang out for a bit?" You offered, "this contract's doing my head in," you flicked at the thick contract on your desk dismissively, "so I'm probably going to get stuck into something lighter, but you know we always love your company."
"Thanks, but, uh," Oliver hesitated, looking to Felix again, "I think I'm gonna turn in for the night."
"Okay," you say sunnily, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the lips, which seems to startle him, "hope you sleep well, Ollie."
"Yeah," Oliver still seems to be reeling from the brief show of affection, "you too."
"Good night, mate," Felix offers with a cheery wave.
"You going to kiss me good night too?" Oliver sounds almost dazed, and suddenly looks mortified once more, like he can't quite believe he'd said that. Felix, unphased, stands and makes his way over to you both.
"Sure," he seems to take the suggestion in stride, kissing the top of Oliver's head before he bends to quickly kiss him on the lips. For a moment after Felix has pulled back, Oliver's look at him like he's staring at the sun, and Felix is wearing a sharp, knowing smile, "'night, Ollie," he says, quieter this time.
"G'night, Felix," Oliver murmurs, making his way to the door as Felix nonchalantly reaches to take the seating chart from your hand to look it over for himself. You, however, watch Oliver go, feeling both helpless and amused all at once.
"You think if I fuck him he'll take the hint?" Felix asks quietly once the door was shut, and you'd both heard Oliver's door squeak closed for the night.
"Do you think if you fuck him you'll take the hint," you asked disbelievingly, "that man is so into you, Fi," you hissed, almost furiously wide-eyed as you looked up at him. As always, Felix responds dismissively.
"Told you I'm not saying anything until he does," Felix puts the document down, choosing instead to drape his arms over your shoulders, "we can fuck around all Summer for all I care, but you know I'm not going to hold my breath for things to get more serious unless he tells me."
"He just asked you to kiss him, Felix!"
"I wasn't in love with you when we first kissed."
"Bad example; yes you were."
"Okay, bad example, yes I was," Felix admits with a faint flush, "but for the record, I didn't think I was at the time; we were twelve," he regains his composure quickly, "but it's not like you're in love with Farleigh or my sister; yeah, I know you love them, but you're not in love with them."
"That's different, Fi, we've been fucking around since forever," you sighed, resting your head against him for a moment.
"It's not different," Felix insists, "I just-" but he paused, and when you chance a look up at him, his face is scrunched up, like he's on the verge of admitting something he really doesn't want to, "I don't want to be getting my hopes up if it's just fucking around with Ollie, you know?" It comes out far more frustrated than you'd anticipated, and though you pat his back comfortingly, you can't help but add -
"He drank your bathwater."
"He fucking watched me get myself off and didn't even do anything about it until after it happened! And not even with me!" Felix points out, sounding almost like a petulant child, "I left the fucking door open and everything!" He's pouting now, actually pouting.
"He probably thinks that if he's too forward he'll scare you off, or your parents will kick him out or something," you tried to reason with him, to which Felix groaned.
"But they won't! You saw how much they loved Eddie, fucking hell," he huffed, stepping back, now wearing a scowl. Where had this night turned to something unfortunate? "Mum would throw a fucking parade if I got a boyfriend who wasn't a cheating dickhead."
"You should tell Oliver that," you pointed out frankly, "or at the very least tell him the truth about things with Eddie, so he knows that you do more than just fuck around with pretty boys."
Everything suddenly goes very still.
"What?" There's no frown, no anger anywhere on Felix's face, just pure surprise, "do you think he thinks that?" You watch Felix re-evaluate the entire situation, giving him space to sort out his feelings, "I made it clear I'm into guys too- do you think he thinks -"
"I think," slowly, carefully, you step up to Felix, voice firm but kind, "that despite how much he's seen you fuck around with other people on campus, the only person you are actually in love with is me," Felix is quiet, looking down at you with this crestfallen look like he's disappointed in himself, "and he, like most people I'll remind you, probably assumes that if he wants you to look at him like you look at me, it'll be a competition."
"Of course it's not, that's so stupid," Felix muttered reflexively.
"I've tried to tell Ollie that," you sighed, wrapping an arm around him. Felix presses his face into your hair for a very long moment.
"What if he doesn't, though?" Comes through muffled and forlorn. You're not quite sure what he means, and thankfully Felix continues, not that he moves his face at all, "what if it is just fucking around and we've misread all of this; I can't tell him I actually love him too, I'd look like an absolute freak."
"Tell him about Eddie," you advised softly, "at least he'll get the hint that you're capable of falling in love with someone who isn't me." The reminder of Eddie would always probably ache, you're starting to come to realise. For now, however, you ignore it.
Felix hugs you tightly, and mumbles that you're probably right. Something eases in your chest at that.
Curled up together in bed not ten minutes later, neither your pyjamas or duvet are as comfortable or warm as Felix's arm around you. He's still deep in thought about the night that had just passed; when he muses that at least it was a better talk than the night before, he sounds like he's still making his mind up about that. Settling into sleep, however, you're contented knowing it was true.
The following morning feels comparatively serene, chattering away to the rest of the family about the night's coming festivities. Both you and Felix drop a quick kiss to the top of Oliver's head in passing on your way to collect breakfast - Farleigh's the only one who notices, and he rolls his eyes at you both. Venetia asks you what you'll be wearing to the event and lights up when you tell her it's the jumpsuit she'd bought you from Yves Saint Laurent for your last birthday, while Elspeth coos that you'll look just darling in it.
After yesterday morning's tenseness, getting to work in your garden, planting the flowers that had arrived for you, music playing cheerily through your little speaker, it feels like a dream. The sun is warm against your back, and for some weird reason you think you see Oliver skulking around in one of the gardens by the wall of the house. Lurking again. Probably habit more than anything else, you figured. Considering the games you've been playing with him, you don't see the need to discourage that kind of behaviour. He's by the window of one of the little libraries; you wonder what must be going on in there to have caught his attention.
Oh well, you'll ask later if you remember.
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sylenth-l · 15 hours
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hello! hunter age anon back once moe with another question!!! (sorry ig yhis gets annoying!!!)
i want to ask about Cayde's dynamic with andal!!! like, how to portray their relationship and maybe cayde's general psyche when it comes to people and forming bonds.
Not at all, I love getting questions about my guys!! (I'm just bad at answering them aksdjhflks OTL)
It's… complicated, I'm never sure how to describe characters' relationships with words. I know it sounds incredibly cheesy, but to me Andal and Cayde are two halves of a whole, one feels incomplete without the other. Even if we're talking about them being just friends, they're the type who always show up everywhere together and if for some reason they aren't, they'll be texting each other non-stop still. "We're two halves of a whole idiot" - that's literally them.
You could say that they knew and understood each other perfectly, but I feel like while it's true in general everyday scenarios, on a grander scale Andal always had an upper hand in that. He knew Cayde like the back of his hand, he trusted him and believed in him far more than Cayde ever thought of himself. Cayde however wasn't exactly that sharp when it came to serious things about which Andal avoided speaking head-on - like, Cayde couldn't understand why Andal takes his Vanguard duty so seriously. It was only after he spent years as the Hunter Vanguard himself that he started to get what Andal must've felt. I don't think it's Cayde's fault or something though - Andal most likely barely ever talked about that, and he himself didn't exactly need people talking about their feelings to understand them.
I think it's safe to say, judging by how everyone speak of him and the leadership positions he seemingly effortlessly always ended up in, that Andal just gets people, he understands them extremely well and can find a common language with just about anyone. He was the one who made "significant progress in faction accords". What kind of person you must be to make faction leaders come to an agreement, at that time especially??? Convincing, sharp and charming sounds like an understatement alksdhfkjaks
So, I think it was that quality that helped Andal almost immediately see right through all of Cayde's clowney facades. And his own kindness and honesty pretty much left Cayde totally disarmed. Andal got to know him - the real him - and loved him, thought of him as his best friend. And made damn sure Cayde was aware of that as well. That's actually so, so incredibly important - because with the way Cayde is, he constantly thinks that deep down people surrounding him either dislike him or are disappointed in him. No matter how much time they spend together, it's not something he himself will just get one day because "well it's OBVIOUS" or something. His relationship with Ikora and Zavala are probably the most striking example of that. Ikora says he was one of her closest friends - Cayde says he's not sure if Ikora even likes him. The City is flooded with Cabal, lightless Guardians scattered all over the system, humanity is in shambles - and Cayde is genuinely surprised Zavala is looking for him and needs him. He leaves messages for both of them in case they kill him, making it sound like he wouldn't be surprised at all if they did. That… really shows the abysmal gap of misunderstanding between them, to put it lightly.
But Andal! Cayde never once doubted Andal and Andal's feelings for him. The good old days he speaks so fondly of is the time when he ran around the Solar system with Andal and their pack. Even if he sometimes laments that Andal is too serious and bad with jokes, that seriousness and honesty is actually just another proof that if Andal says so, then he really does like him and is impressed by whatever Cayde wanted to impress him with this time. 
I think it's probably one of, if not the most important part of what made Andal so incredibly special to Cayde - that freedom of being able to be equally honest with him, be real. Goofing off because he simply wants to goof off - not because he prefers to give people lower standards so that they won't be disappointed in him when he fails. Sharing his muddy concerns and fears that he barely even can put into words, knowing it won't be laughed at or brushed off as unimportant. Absolutely everything got better instantly if they were in it together. The mere presence of one of them in close proximity immediately cheered the other up.
I don't know, I can talk about them for hours and still not say what I wanted to say. I always miss the most important stuff somehow, no matter how many words I pour in. Honestly, I think that to better understand what was happening between them, all you have to do is to (re)read "The Man They Call Cayde" - literally half of it is basically Cayde's love letter to Andal.
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jinxed-sinner · 3 days
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Please tell me I'm not the only one who really fucking likes the idea of Alastor and Vox being exes. I have a whole idea for this too loosely based on my own experience being asexual and demiromantic.
Like I like to think their relationship was purely romantic when it happened, or at least Vox viewed it that way. Alastor accepted that, but he didn't really think it felt any different from a normal friendship like the one he has with Rosie (he probably eventually started viewing their relationship as "romantic" too, figuring romantic was just a label and didn't actually mean much). Alastor let Vox get touchy, and Vox at least pretended to be respectful of Alastor's boundaries.
Eventually Vox started wanting more from the relationship, which made Alastor uncomfortable, and he broke it off, leading to their falling out. Vox was obsessed with him before this, but it was something Alastor was willing to look past because he could hold his own in a fight with another Overlord if the need came. Then they fought, and they were nearly perfectly matched in a physical confrontation with Vox being just slightly stronger, and Alastor realized that Vox was more dangerous than he thought, because I genuinely think Vox manipulated Alastor at some point. They're both master manipulators but I think Alastor's manipulation is closer to lying by omission (basically, omitting things to hide the truth) while Vox's manipulation is more obvious; he uses hypnosis and mass mind control which probably means he can manipulate people more easily and more quickly. It wasn't until after Alastor broke off their relationship that he realized that.
Alastor's strength comes from his cunning and what amounts to ambushing people to attack them, if the retellings of his backstory in the pilot and Dad Beat Dad are anything to go off of; Vox's strength is in his charisma and what amounts to cult leader levels of manipulation and gaslighting. Alastor uses the tactics of a serial killer; Vox uses the tactics of a cult leader. Everyone knows Alastor is a serial killer, so everyone's weary of him. Not everyone realizes what Vox is doing; not everyone's weary of Vox, if anyone is weary of Vox (except maybe Angel. Everyone else seems to find him annoying at worst). People are more weary of serial killers than cult leaders.
Went off on a tangent there but I doubt Alastor realized how dangerous Vox actually is until their falling out. I genuinely think they were in a romantic relationship at some point that was incredibly toxic and Alastor didn't realize how bad it was until they broke up because he wasn't (and still isn't) used to romantic relationships, which Vox realized and used to his advantage. I think he discussed his relationship with Vox with Rosie before leaving for 7 years, and she's the one who brought it to his attention that the relationship was incredibly toxic (and yes Rosie was definitely horrified).
I actually think this would explain the kind of dirt Alastor has on Vox in Stayed Gone too, because Vox is trying to tear down Alastor by basically saying "he's old and he's a coward, why would you listen to him?" while Alastor is tearing down Vox by saying his power comes from manipulation and he'd be powerless if he didn't manipulate people into following him, or if he didn't have a team behind him (although let's be real, if he didn't have people following him but still had Val and Velvette he'd still be powerless because the only reason he's so powerful is because he has a massive audience that he only has because of mind control. Take away his ability to use mind control and he's almost completely powerless, at least socially).
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I've been thinking a bit about how I would like to see a depiction of Sauron's time following the War of Wrath, in particular his potential for having, for a short while anyway, 'redeemed' himself before falling back into evil.
Now, I love a true (attempted?) redemption arc as much as the next pr department, but I'm not convinced that's quite what we'd be looking at here. As far as he was concerned, prior to the War of Wrath, he was serving the True King of Arda. (We're told he genuinely wanted Melkor to win the war and there are some elements that make me view him as a somewhat fanatical follower of his lord). He then witnesses their enemies brutally defeat Him, distroy the land that should have been His and then leave the mess behind them. I'm not sure he'd really go straight to "are we the baddies?" here*. If he belived in Melkor's cause, then I don't see why he wouldn't have thought of themselves as the good guys. And with the state that Middle Earth was left in after the Valar attacked, as well as their treatment of his lord, I don't think there's anything in front of him to tell him otherwise. In other words, there is nothing to be redeemed from. At least in his thoughts initially. And I think this is where we see the flaw that allows for him to slip back into evil. What we view as evil and what he views as evil aren't the same thing. His actions are a means to an end, and the end he has planned is so perfect that it'll justify any means. He genuinely wants to fix Middle Earth. Unfortunately for everyone involved though, his moral compas has never really had a good idea of where north actually is...
That isn't to say that I don't think he would learn nothing. That would be too static. I just think it means that there may not be any need for him to actively attempt to be a better person or to be actively trying to turn over a new leaf. I don't see that as something that should be focused on in a failed redemption story for him at this point in time. (I think that would suit post canon better, and perhaps even give it more weight because he can see his failure here and how close he could have been). I think he would eventually question at least some of his past actions. He would find things in his new life that he enjoys. Perhaps he's reminded of how much he loves creating instead of destroying? But I don't think he's setting out to do that. He's setting out to get involved and help restore Middle Earth because as far as he's concerned he's already one of the good guys. For me, this story would need way more layers to it than him simply saying "I'm good now. Actually, never mind, I'm evil again". I think it's far too black and white for how he sees himself. I don't think at any point does he truly think of himself as evil. He thinks of himself as right. He just has a very warped sense of right and wrong. His fall back into evil is inevitable, but he doesn't realise he's doing it because he never considered himself evil in the first place. This is why he fails.
[*I know he presents himself to Eonwe for pardon, but since he nopes out the second the Valar and Valinor are mentioned (and he suspects that he'll end up losing the status that he enjoys in Middle Earth), I don't really know how much of that came from a realisation that he had done wrong. It seems too quick for a realisation like that. So I'm taking it a bit more like either covering his ass or a moment of doubt in the face of utter defeat that then passes once he gets a little slap of reality.]
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cryptotheism · 3 months
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I hope this doesn't come off as disrespectful, because I'm genuinely curious, but like...is alchemy "real"? Because the way you speak about it is how I wish I could, myself, appreciate it and you're the closest I've ever found to a real world wizard which excites me a great deal. I totally respect if for you it's actually just an interesting academic study without intention, I'm just curious for how you view it in that lens.
No that's a good question!
Short answer: Yes, as in alchemists were real people who could actually do cool shit sometimes, but they weren't actually transmuting lead into gold, you need a particle accelerator for that.
In the 4th century, you weren't a scientist, that word hadn't been invented yet. You were a Natural Philosopher. You studied everything from the stars, to mathematics, to medicine, to the nature of herbs and stones.
In the medieval era, you weren't an astronomer, you were an astrologer. Telling people's horoscopes involved a lot of astronomical math. There wasn't really a difference between astronomy and astrology.
In the renaissance era, you weren't a chemist. The term chemist didn't exist yet. You were an alchemist. You tried to make gold sometimes, but you also manufactured dyes, glass vessels, cosmetics, paints, and medicines. You were kind of a whitesmith, and a glass-blower, and a doctor, and sometimes just a con-man.
Alchemy and chemistry have a relationship similar to Astrology and Astronomy. But, don't think of alchemy as just "Chemistry with magic." Alchemy is the father of modern chemistry. It is the cocoon that chemistry sprouted out of.
The thing is, alchemy is more "real" than astrology is. You know what a common use of astrology was in the medieval era? Diagnosing diseases. You'd check someone's horoscope to determine what medicine to give them. This didn't work. A medieval astrology textbook isn't going to be useful for diagnosing why your stomach hurts.
But!
Medieval alchemy texts are actually useful sometimes. If you want to dye some copper so it looked more like gold, there are alchemy texts that can tell you how to do that. If you want to distill the mercury out of some cinnabar, alchemists could do that. They didn't really know how or why that worked, but they could do it! If you want a potion that could make you immortal, the alchemists could make a philter of mercury and lead that would definitely 100% kill you and it would hurt the whole time you were dying. You can't win em all.
Im writing about the history of alchemy on my patreon if you wanna support me!
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chuluoyi · 6 months
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✎ forever
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- gojo satoru x reader
the three times he asked you to marry him
genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo
note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Why don't we get married?"
The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.
His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.
"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"
A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"
You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—
"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."
Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.
"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"
There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?
You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.
Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.
"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."
When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.
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The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.
"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"
This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"
"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."
"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"
"I said no."
"Why?!"
You sighed. "You're dead drunk."
"What will—hic—make you say yes?"
You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.
"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.
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"Marry me."
The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.
And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.
Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.
At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.
. . .
He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.
He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.
Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.
"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.
As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.
And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—
—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.
But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.
You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?
. . .
This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.
"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."
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sargeant-bxrnes · 5 months
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the bet
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—✮ summary: gojo and you make a bet. gojo assures he’ll be able to resist a whole month without sex, and you bet on the fact that he won’t be able to resist. may no nut november begin.
pairings: gojo x f!reader [established relationship]
contents & warnings: slight exhibitionism (consented shower peeking), teasing, explicit descriptions of female anatomy. | SMUT unprotected sex (don’t do this!), dirty talk, praise, sofa sex.
wc: 4.2k
my masterlist! | requests are OPEN!
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"Who do you take me for?" Gojo questioned with a half dramatic, half genuine gasp, as his pale hand met his chest, feigning hurt.
"Oh, come on!" You can't help but giggle at his dramatics. "the only reason why you don't try to keep up with NNN is because your horny ass would NOT survive."
"I-" He shut his mouth, to open again a few seconds later. "for your information, I think No Nut November is stupid. Why would I restrain myself for a month just for funsies? That's why I don't do it. If I didn't find the idea stupid, I would definitely survive. Mhm."
"...Right." You nod your head softly, trying to hide an amused smile and narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend. "Absolutely, you can resist a whole month without an orgasm, completely feasible."
"You don't believe me, do you, baby?"
"Absolutely not."
"Alright, alright," he said, repositioning himself on the bed, leaning on his elbow as he draped his body across the bed, showing how 'relaxed' he was. "let's make a bet, then."
"A bet with the infamous Gojo?" You muse, also leaning down on the bed. "do tell, handsome."
"I bet that I can survive No Nut November," he said firmly, a confident smirk on his lips. "and by the looks of it, your bet will be on me, absolutely failing this dumbassery."
"Oh, sounds about right," you nod. "deal. What's in it for the winner?"
"That'll be decided when the bet's over," He says confidently. "at the end of November, when I win, of course."
"You're so confident about this, it's so cute.".
"Aw, and you're so confident you'll make me lose, it's adorable." He cooed back.
And with that, it was game on.
i.
The first few days, you acted like normal, making sure to keep behaving like every other day. Gojo was doing just fine; sure, some kisses prolonged more than usual, but he was so determined to win that he forced himself to pull back before it turned into a make-out session.
By the time November 10 came around, Gojo had only been close to losing once, but other than that, he was showing impressive restraint—by avoiding long cuddle sessions or kissing for long periods of time—which could be counted as cheating since those things you used to do normally.
So, you decided to twist the rules a little bit too.
Knowing Gojo's schedule like the back of your hand, you waited the entire day to get in the shower, purposefully choosing to get under the warm stream around 10 minutes before he got home—you left the bathroom door ajar, also on purpose. You knew Satoru is nosy by nature, and he wouldn't resist taking a peek.
Like a damn Pavlovian effect, as soon as Gojo got home and heard the shower, he instinctively made his way to the bedroom, noticing the ajar bathroom door. He knew he shouldn't, not because you'd be uncomfortable—you two had been together long enough for nudity to not be an issue—but because he knew that as soon as he saw you naked, his hormones would act up.
But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he refused to delve into such a beautiful sight?
He walked closer to the ajar door and took a small peek at first. The first thing he saw was steam from the shower's temperature, but that wasn't much of an impediment for him to concentrate on what he wanted. Gojo's eyes quickly found your figure amidst all the steam. There you were, standing behind the glass door of the shower, in all your beautiful glory.
The water was cascading over you in a waterfall, covering your entire figure. You had your back to him, so he couldn't see your face, but he knew you were enjoying the bath, judging by your relaxed shoulders.
Satoru lost all decency and let his eyes travel down your body, your hair, your shoulders, and your beautiful back, which he loved to caress with his hands. His eyes went lower and lower, and he felt his body getting hot under the collar.
His eyes focused on your glistening ass... He swore he could see water droplets bouncing off that beautiful thing. It looked so damn delicious, it made him want to-
He forced his eyes to look somewhere else. Where? Your hair. He smiled as he saw how meticulous you were when washing it—so cute and adorable. And for a second, he regained control. However, you turned around a few inches to the right, and now your breasts were visible to him. His jaw dropped as he saw the water stream softly hitting your breasts, water droplets sliding down the valley he adored to kiss, oh... the way they followed a path to your little hardened nipples and—
His cock twitched.
Gojo closed his eyes and bit his tongue to contain a grunt. If he looked at you for one more second, he would strip and join you in the shower, and in no time, he would have you with your legs spread, bent over with your hands splayed against the wall as he drilled into your cunt.
Gojo cleared his throat and made his way out of the room, discreetly tugging the crotch of his pants so they wouldn't be so snug against his hard cock. He made his way to the kitchen and set about preparing some food to share with you, who’s showering with warm water touching your soft, naked body—fuck. Fuck. Gojo was losing it already.
While you hadn't seen his struggles, you knew him far too well to know his composure had started to crumble. You knew you were one step closer to winning this bet. Because, despite how proudly he claimed to be able to, Gojo Satoru will not be able to survive a whole month without nutting.
You let the teasing rest for a few days, making him believe you'd stopped. It was a calculated gesture. Sure, the shower peek could've been an innocent accident; maybe you hadn't meant to leave the door open, or maybe you didn't think he'd get home from work before you got out of the shower. Right.
ii.
5 days later, you played another one of your little teasing schemes.
Gojo was already lying down on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, watching short clips of kikufuku mocha recipes, his absolute favourite dish. (Right after your pussy.)
You opened the bathroom door after doing your routine of handling your hair and applying cream all over your body and face. You walked out, turned off the bathroom lights, and made your way to the bed.
Gojo's eyes instinctively rose up to see you walk up to the bed, and then he turned back to his phone, but—hold up. Gojo did a double take, eyes travelling all over your frame, quickly noticing you seemed to be wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his, which was sliding down your bare shoulder, the hem of it covering half of your thigh.
He gulped down to regain control of himself and opened the covers for you to slide right beside him, as always. You got under the warm covers and scooted close to him, your warm body fitting perfectly next to his tall one. Gojo dropped the covers and let his arm wrap around your body, his hand falling on your back. He softly caressed it both as an affectionate gesture and as a way to try and find your sleeping bra wings or the clasp, but all he felt under the palm of his hand was the fabric of the t-shirt and your soft skin. No bra.
He could work with that, absolutely. Yeah.
As every night, you cuddled up to him, your head on his chest and your arm draped over his torso as your fingertips softly caressed his sides, gliding up and down soothingly. Your leg, as always, also draped over him, falling comfortably between his legs. Gojo's arm held you tight and safely nestled against him, as he did all he could to avoid letting his hand wander down.
You got comfortable, making an inhuman effort to not smirk a little. It was hard to tell if he'd noticed or not, but the only piece of clothing you were currently wearing was his old shirt, nothing else—no panties, no bra.
At first, he didn't notice. But oh.
Not only could he feel your soft breasts against his chest through the thin fabric of the shirt, your hard nipples pressed against him. No, no. He also became hyper-aware of how warm your body was and the way it curved so beautifully and naturally. His hand moved in small circles down the small of your back, where, if he splayed his hand, he would be able to feel the waistband of your... Nope. There's no waistband.
You're naked, wearing nothing but his old t-shirt, the one he gave you after you two fucked for the first time in your newly shared apartment. That day, you two had been moving furniture and boxes around, and it ended up with him fucking you on the floor like two dogs in heat. He remembers giving it to you so you could cover up your body when the neighbors knocked on the door to welcome you both, and it has been your shirt ever since.
And knowing you're wearing it and nothing under it, just like that day... his cock twitched inside his pijama pants. He felt it, and so did you.
You couldn't help but smirk. Would this be the moment when he gave in?
"I uh-fuck..." Gojo rambled as his grip on your body tightened. "I'll turn off the lights now; I'm—yeah, it's late; it's time to sleep, baby."
"Hm yeah?" You cooed playfully as his free arm stretched to turn off the bedside lamp.
"Yeah," he assured, sucking in a breath as you cuddled up even closer to him. "g-good night, gorgeous."
"Aw, where's my good-night kiss?" You playfully teased him, pouting in the darkness.
Gojo let out the smallest little whimper before his hand blindly found your jaw, cupping it as he tilted your head up. His lips found yours in a short kiss, no short of desperation, before he pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow, clearing his throat to act casual, like nothing had happened, as if you couldn't feel the bulge in his PJ pants.
"You know, baby, you could just... give in and lose the bet." You offered softly, stopping the teasing to be genuine for a couple of seconds before dropping an absolutely filthy comment. "I'd definitely suck your cock then, y'know? For your effort. I'd even do a sloppy, as you like it."
"Fuck-" He hissed as his cock twitched again. "Shh, shut your pretty mouth, shush. Stop. G'night, sleep time. Love you."
Knowing when to stop, you stopped for the night, kissing his cheek softly before mumbling good night, and I love you back, and closing your eyes.
iii.
The very next day, you continued your teasing. The previous night he had almost lost his composure, and you weren't about to stop, not now.
After having a nice meal during his break, Gojo and you had decided to get some ice cream, since the weather was quite hot that day.
Unbelievably so, you had nothing but pure intentions at first.
You both sat at one of the tables at the back of the establishment, since Gojo preferred to eat at peace. While you were eating ice cream, Gojo was talking to you about one of the missions he had coming up, and you were listening to him attentively, letting him talk your ear off, to be honest, you loved the sound of his voice, so listening to him wasn't a bother.
It wasn't until he stopped mid-sentence while you licked your ice cream cone that you came up with your idea. Unbeknownst to him, Satoru had handed himself on a silver plate to you when he did that.
You nodded your head as he kept talking, genuinely listening to him talk while uttering the occasional 'mhm' and 'yeah?' to keep him talking. But on the other hand? You were teasing him. You licked your ice cream 'innocently' letting the cold treat coat your tongue before flicking it, and whenever a drop of ice cream slid down to the cone, you would lick it slowly, keeping eye contact with Gojo.
It didn't take more than 3 minutes for Satoru to start feeling his blood flowing south, you looked so innocent, like a good girlfriend, listening to him — But Gojo knew perfectly well what you were doing, the way you savored the ice cream, the way you licked the cone specifically... all Gojo could think about was how it felt when you did that on his cock, licking the drops of precum that slid down his length. 
"So I was thinking of asking..." He trailed off as he saw you wrap your lips around the tip of the ice cream, the way the creamy goodness coated your lips, how your cheeks hollowed ever so subtly to let the ice cream melt in the warmth of your mouth.
"Yeah?" You asked innocently, removing your mouth from the ice cream and licking your lips clean.
"Of asking Nanami, you know? He's..." Gojo's eyes followed the drops of ice cream that now melted on your fingers, as it had began to drip down after you left it unattended.  "he may not be the most cheerful but he-"
You licked the ice cream off your fingers as Gojo kept talking, keeping eye contact with him as you genuinely listened to him, but once again, he stopped mid-sentence, his throat going dry and his pants definitely getting tighter.
"What?" You dared ask, knowing exactly what was going on.
"Oh, you-" he took a sharp inhale, he knew what you were doing, and as much as his cock was screaming at him to grow up and accept the defeat so he could sink in your tight pussy, Gojo wouldn't budge. "never mind, as I was saying, Nanami is the man for the job."
"Mhm, I'm sure he is." You mused, going back to eating your ice cream.
However, before you could continue licking it, Gojo snatched the cone from you and stuffed the remaining ice cream into his mouth, he hissed, eyes immediately narrowing and his features scrunching up from the icy sensation, and with a grimace he swallowed the ice cream in one gulp.
"No more ice cream for you, you're a danger to my cock."
iv.
After that direct tease, you decided to act normal for several days, perhaps your boyfriend did have the will to fulfill No Nut November after all.  
After a long day, you both found yourselves on the couch in your living room, watching a movie on TV. As it had become customary throughout your relationship with Satoru, you ended up cuddling with him.
You found yourself comfortably nestled on Gojo's lap. Your soft body pressed against his hard muscles, sending a pleasant tingle through your body. To be fair, you didn't intend to tease him or tempt him this time around; you just wanted some quality couch-time with your boyfriend.
However, as the movie progressed and your bodies grew more intimate due to their close proximity, something unexpected happened - a familiar stirring within Gojo began to rise up. It started small at first but quickly became impossible to ignore any longer.
"Fuck," muttered Gojo under his breath, trying desperately not to give into his urges. But it was clear that he wasn't going to make it without giving in soon enough.
"You okay?" You asked him softly, looking up at him from your comfortable position.
This time, no comment came from him, only actions. Gojo leant down to kiss you, and as soon as you reciprocated the kiss with the same intensity, he knew you wanted him as badly as he wanted you— you weren't insisting on him losing NNN just to gloat, no, no, you were needy, too, and it showed in the way you nearly ripped his shirt off his body.
Not wanting to pull his lips away from yours, Gojo's hands moved all over your body they stopped at your breast swiftly, his hands groping the soft globes in the least gentlemanly way, before moving his hands lower and lower.
Without warning or hesitation, Gojo swiftly hooked his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down your legs. You helped by raising your hips off his lap– soon your clothes were discarded  somewhere out of sight. Satoru finally pulled back from your lips and grabbed a hold of his sweatpants, pulling the waistband low enough for his throbbing cock to be freed, it immediately sprang out, slapping against his pale abs, his tip was reddened by arousal, a few drops of precum were already accumulating at the tip.
And just as you were about to lean down to take his cock down your throat and give him the sloppy blowjob you promised, he took a hold of your hips and pulled you closer to him, nudging your leg up so you would straddle him. You quickly understood what he wanted and straddled him, hovering right over his cock– you were already so wet a few drops of your arousal dripped down to his tip, and he swore he could've busted right there.
He looked at you to confirm everything was okay, and as soon as you nodded, he slowly pulled you down on his cock, his tip nudging its way inside, slowly being sucked in by your cunt.
"F-fuck, fuck, you're so tight." He nearly hissed, feeling the way your tight entrance slowly stretched to allow his cock in– it didn't matter how many times you two fucked, you were as tight as ever. "Oh my– fuck."
As soon as he felt your soft wetness envelop his cockhead, Gojo thrusted his hips forward into your waiting pussy. Your tight walls gripped him like velvet vice as he plunged deeper, and deeper. Gojo couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips as he felt you clamping down around his dick, as if your cunt wanted to keep it forever inside.
You whimpered in delight, your hand finding the back of his head, fingers tangling in his white hair as you bit your lip. "You feel so damn good baby, so big..."
Once he was fully sheathed, his lips returned to yours to kiss you desperately as he gave you time to adjust to his length, his thumb found your clit blindly, and he began to stroke it in small circles, making your soft walls tighten around his cock, enveloping his cock in your warmth. 
Eventually, you began to ride him, your hand finding his chest as you began to move back and forth, lifting and lowering your hips with each movement, the sound of your thighs making contact with his, plus the squelching sound each time your greedy cunt sucked him in was definitely erotic— not to mention the sounds escaping from Satoru's mouth, you forced yourself to swallow your own moans to hear his, the way he moaned, grunted and even whimpered.
"Jus' like that baby, so, so good," he praised, his eyes threatening to roll back at the feeling of your warm walls around his shaft. "there we go, you're doing so good f'me, fuck– god damn, baby. Missed this pretty little thing so much."
Gojo's hands were holding your hips so tightly that they would probably leave marks, but you didn't care, the way he was moving your body with such ease, it was incredibly attractive, he was fucking you roughly, but needy, it was obvious he needed this, and by the way he was also lifting his hips to push his cock even deeper inside you, it was obvious.
"T-Toru," you moaned after a particular thrust of his, one of his cock veins had grazed against your g-spot so perfectly it felt like heaven– you tilted your hips and tried to replay the feeling as you bounced on his lap.
His cock was hitting in all the right places, and by that point you were chasing your orgasm, however, your plans were quickly interrupted when, with a grunt, Gojo wrapped his arms around you and pushed you down on the sofa.
He pulled his cock out a little to accommodate your leg, throwing it over his shoulder and leaning his body forward, exposing your pussy to him, his eyes watched hungrily as he thrust inside you again, your juices pooling in a translucent circle at the base of his cock. You couldn't help the moan of surprise and utter pleasure that left your lips as Gojo began to thrust, his hips moving with precision, rising a little to get a better angle, his cock grinding its way inside your tight cunt, its tip possibly touching your cervix.
"There we go, hm? So fuckin' good, your pussy is so fucking good f'me," he rambles, clearly too pussydrunk to stop the endless rambling. "oh god, you missed having your tight little cunt filled with my cock, didn't you? Hm, I can feel it baby, you're squeezin' me so tight."
With one hand braced against the couch armrest for leverage, Gojo began powering up into your body at a pace that left no room for hesitation or mercy. It wasn't long before sweat dripped down from his brow.
One hand kept holding your hips to keep you in place so your body wouldn't slide up with each thrust, the sound of his skin against yours was obscene, and you would be embarrassed by the wet sound of your pussy, but that seemed to please Gojo judging by the way he alternated his gaze between your face and your cunt.
Your back arched off the couch as he began to hit all the right spots, and upon seeing that, Gojo couldn't help himself, he leant down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his warm tongue swirling around the hardened bud before his lips sucked it gently— you squirmed in utter pleasure at the dual pleasure, but you nearly lost your composure when his hand left your hip and slid between your legs, finding your little clit and began circling it quickly.
"F-fuck, 'Toru, baby w- I– hmm," you couldn't even speak clearly, your eyes rolling back as he kept sucking your nipples, rubbing your clit and plunging deep inside your pussy, god bless his multitasking abilities.
At a sudden wave of pleasure, your legs threatened to close, but Gojo would not allow that. His hand left the couch armrest and came to hold the leg over his shoulder in place, he used the leverage and knelt down on the sofa, lifting your hips up slightly to keep fucking deep into you, his thumb still assaulting your clit relentlessly.
"Gojo I'm gonna– please, j-just like that." You managed to say clearly, as you felt his cock twitching intensely inside you, you could notice the telltale signs, his twitching cock, the way his eyes were glazing over and his thrusts got relentless– he was close.
"I know, I know," he coos in a rasp, his breath heavy as he keeps going. "that's it, that's it, cum for me pretty girl, yeah? Cum for me, gorgeous. You've been so good for me, let go baby."
As soon as that praise fell from his lips, combined with all the pleasure and stimulation he was giving you, you were a goner. Your cunt squeezed tight around his cock, milking it for all it was worth as a moan of his name left your lips, your whole body tensed and clenched in response to the overwhelming orgasm.
Now, Gojo is a simple man. The moment your pussy squeezed him so deliciously tight, he lost control of himself, he immediately followed your orgasm, his cock spurting ropes of white warmness that coated your insides.
His body felt nearly limp on top of yours, his cock still nestled inside your warm walls, his sweaty forehead meeting the clammy skin of your shoulder as he took deep breaths, pressing a kiss against your soft skin, he relaxed as he felt your fingers threading his messy hair.
"NNN was stupid anyway," he mumbled against your skin, making you giggle as you remembered that he'd lost the bet. "your pussy's too good for me to give up, even for a month."
You chuckled soflty, kissing his sweaty forehead. "I can't decide if I should feel flattered or offended."
"It was definitely a compliment," he assured playfully, nipping on your shoulder as he rose his body up, softly patting your thigh as he pulled out of you, a mix of his cum and yours dribbling out of your tight hole. "now, get on all fours f'me, princess, I'm not done with you yet."
"Oh?" You teased him, completely up for another round.
"Gonna make you cum as many times as you teased me this month," He promised as he took a hold of your hips and flipped you over, your body acting by muscle memory as you got on your hands and knees, face pressed against the sweaty material of the couch. “and believe me, I kept count.”
And just like that, you felt his cock slide back home.
It was going to be a long night.
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sorcerous-caress · 6 months
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could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around
You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.
Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child
[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]
[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]
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Astarion
What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.
To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.
Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?
Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.
What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.
Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.
And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.
Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.
Gale
Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.
He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.
Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.
If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.
He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.
Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.
Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.
Wyll
He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.
He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.
He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.
Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.
He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.
Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.
Halsin
The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.
When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.
Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.
He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.
Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.
And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.
There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.
They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.
Karlach
Little soldier is what she calls them.
Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.
Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.
While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.
Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.
It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.
They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.
Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.
Jaheira
Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.
It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.
If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.
She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.
They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.
They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.
Shadowheart
No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.
You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.
They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.
Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.
Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.
She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.
But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.
Laezel
If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.
What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?
Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.
Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.
Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.
She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.
But she's only joking? Right? Right???
Uh....did anyone see Gale??
Minthara
To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.
She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.
They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.
Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.
She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.
Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.
Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.
She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.
You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.
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klausysworld · 2 months
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Hey,I like your klaus mikaelson stories very much. Can you do one in which klaus and reader(yn) were in an arrange marriage and they cant stand each other?And they slowly fall in love and at the end he gets her pregnant? As in arranged marriage I mean,something like the marriage between hayley and Jackson. And if you can please add smut,fluff,jealousy and daddy kink. Thank you
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An Alliance or a Marriage?
Y/n could not believe that she was doing this.
Y/n was Jacksons sister, they always had each others backs and protected the other. So when Hayley came into Jacksons life, had him falling in love while she had feelings for Elijah Mikaelson, Y/n knew they couldn't get married. The only reason they were actually getting married was to unite the werewolf clans and to share Hayley's hybrid abilities as part of the marriage ritual.
But it would come at the cost of Jackson's happiness and most likely his life. Y/n was not stupid. She knew the price of loving a Mikaelson and it was one that Jackson could not afford and one that Y/n would not let him pay.
So without thinking, she made a fast decision.
"What if Ione of the wolves married Klaus? That way Hayley gets to be with Elijah and Klaus doesn't have to be so wary of Jackson around Hope or whatever his worry is? Wouldn't it just be easier?" She questioned and she felt everyone's gaze turn to her, most genuinely considering the possibility while Klaus looked both pissed and amused.
"I wouldn't trust anyone with Hope and under no circumstances will I be marrying anyone." He answered before storming out without another word. Jackson was second to protest then some of the other wolves.
They all went back to the bayou and tried to forget about the day.
What the wolves were unaware of were the arguments in the Mikaelson compound. Mostly between Rebekah and Niklaus. Rebekah was telling Klaus that for once, he should think of Elijah's happiness instead of only being selfish yet again. She continued to go on about how it was for Hope, how he should be the one sacrificing for Hope, not Hayley as she had already given up so much. The fight went on for hours but by morning it was settled. Niklaus would marry a wolf of his choosing.
Y/n was his choice. She was quiet but smart. Small but strong. Which meant she would be the best of his options. He knew part of her feared him, unlike some of the wolves there. She may challenge him a little but she wasn't stupid enough to truly go against him. This was proven when she silently accepted his decision.
Jackson was entirely against the entire thing. His sister was getting married to the original hybrid, moving into the beasts den and becoming apart of his twisted family. But he too kept quiet after Y/n told him it was what needed to be done. It was the only chance for everyone to walk out somewhat alive.
That was why she was walking down the aisle, Jackson unwillingly giving her away to Klaus Mikaelson before Mary began the ceremony. As the words "you may kiss your bride" left her lips, their fates were sealed. Klaus stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his brides soft lips and watched as her and every other wolf in the rooms eyes lit up with golden flames, united as one.
The compound remained busy for the rest of the day, Klaus and Y/n stayed in opposite sides of the room at all times. Elijah urged his brother to at least be kind, Klaus however ignored any and all advice and instead drank the night away. Marriage was not in the cards for him. It was not what he wanted and he now knew that he was tied to this girl, a girl he harboured no feelings toward and a girl who only looked at him with distaste, for at least one lifetime. He knew the likelihood of them every liking each other was slim and he also knew that there were lots of rules in this werewolf marriage that he would have to follow in order to have the wolves protecting Hope. So he got off his face drunk, to the point where he couldn't get himself up the stairs at the end of the night.
It wasn't the best way for Y/n to find him on their first night 'together'. When she gave him that look of uncertainty and upset when she found him at the bottom of the stairs slurring his words, he just rolled his eyes and told her to piss off. But she didn't. Instead she fought against his sloppy attempts of pushing her away and instead managed to get him up the stairs and to bed. He fell asleep in seconds leaving Y/n distressed and alone on her wedding night. Instead of sleeping she went back downstairs and cleaned up the mess left over from the wedding.
Klaus had come down in the morning to find her scrubbing the corner of the room. He glanced around and noticed everywhere was spotless, his eyes travelled to the stairs and he was hit with the memory of leaning against her as she struggled to carry him up each one. Guilt bubbled in the pit of his stomach but he ignored it and made his way into the room and past her.
Y/n just stared at the nonexistent spot on the ground and tiredly rubbed the sponge against it.
Rebekah came downstairs after a little while and frowned when she saw Y/n, exhausted and leaning against the wall while her arm moved almost robotically to scratch away at the floor.
“Y/n? Darling we have maids for this” she whispered softly, supporting her new sister-in-law and guiding her to stand up and walk toward the stairs.
“I was just helping” Y/n mumbled, “wine was spilt” she stated as she glanced over to the area she thought was stained with alcohol but when Rebekah glanced it was completely clean. She lead Y/n toward Klaus’s room but paused when she noticed the mess it was in and began to realise why Y/n hadn’t been to sleep. With a soft sigh she brought the she-wolf to her bedroom and helped Y/n out of her wedding dress.
“I suppose this isn’t the way you had hoped to get out of your dress” she joked gently but Y/n didn’t look amused.
“I’d rather you than your brother” she murmured and Rebekah gave a small laugh.
“One day you won’t think that” she whispered as she grabbed some of her pyjamas and passed them to Y/n. “He’ll become kinder after some time, it’ll be a difficult ride but you’ll get there. Besides he must already like you to have chosen you out of all the wolves” she convinced but Y/n just scoffed as she crawled into Rebekah’s bed and let her head hit the pillow
“Lucky me.” She quipped and Bekah hummed.
“I’ll get him to let you rest for today” she told her as she exited the room and let the girl sleep in her room for the day.
Klaus claimed not to care what Y/n did with her time, where she went or who she was with but Rebekah reminded him that she was his wife. Whether he was happy about or not.
“You either need to set her up a nice room for her to have for herself or you need to actually be her husband and have her feel comfortable enough to share one with you. My god Niklaus, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with her. It won’t give you a disease if you smile at the poor girl.” She scowled and Klaus glared but kept his trap shut.
Klaus knew Y/n was beautiful. She was delicate little thing, from what he had seen she could be very sensitive for a werewolf at times. But he knew she had a certain fire in her. He wondered what he would have to do to light that flame and have her snap at him. He wondered if her fear would override that anger.
It was much later in the day when he went to check on his new wife. Part of him worried she had ran away but he knew that she would stay, for the survival of her pack.
He found her curled up in his sisters pyjamas and bed. Reluctantly he picked her up and brought her to his room, tucking her into his bed and leaving her to rest there instead. After all, his bed was where she belonged now.
When evening came around, he made his way back to his room. As soon as he started getting ready for bed, Y/n forced herself up despite her still clearly needing sleep. He sighed as she left the room, ignoring his presence and going downstairs for the rest of the night.
Some days she would stay downstairs and behave almost zombie like as she tried to keep her mind running and eyes open, other times she just went to sleep while she knew Klaus was busy.
It annoyed him to no end but at the same time he was relieved that he never had to really see or speak to her. Still, whether either of them liked it, she was his wife and the fact that she wouldn’t stand in the same room as him was not something he appreciated.
So he did what he assumed to be best.
Forced her to spend time with him.
Often it would be in a painful silence as he stared her down and made sure she wouldn’t get up and leave. However after some time, she would have little conversations with him so that he would be sated and leave her alone for a little while later.
When in front of the other wolves, Klaus would become a different person. He would make sure to kiss Y/n’s cheek or head, hold her waist or hand. One because he had to make it seem as though they were some what happy so that the wolves would not turn on him and two because he liked to piss Jackson off. He took amusement in how the wolf would growl and scrunch his face up in distaste.
Y/n knew what Klaus was doing but didn’t see the point in arguing or getting all stressed about it, besides it only happened every now and then so it didn’t matter much.
However when Klaus began accidentally doing the little gestures when others weren’t around, as though it were his second nature, Y/n felt confused. She didn’t understand his motifs or what he wanted from her.
Rebekah told Y/n that he didn’t want anything, that he was just warming to her but Y/n was still skeptical. Even when Rebekah came into her room grinning and held out a piece of paper with a beautifully sketched version of Y/n’s face.
“He must’ve been bored out of his mind” Y/n mumbled dismissively as she handed the drawing back to Rebekah who rolled her eyes.
“He likes you” she argued and Y/n scoffed.
“He does not. He just wants me to do whatever he says”she countered and the mikaelson sister sighed
“He isn’t all bad, you know?” Bekah questioned
“Sure he isn’t. He’s quite lovely towards his daughter” she agreed and Rebekah hummed as she watched Y/n pretend to have no clue about Niklaus’s thoughts or feelings.
Klaus wouldn’t admit that he had become accustomed to Y/n’s presence and began to want it more often. He wasn’t too sure why but he had taken a fancying to her, he just had.
And he most certainly didn’t like when other people took a fancying to her as well. Not at all.
Now he knew that she would never peruse anything with anyone else, that would break the magical marriage binding the wolves together but it didn’t mean he didn’t get angry. Especially when another wolf could make her smile or blush better than he could. His teeth would bring, jaw would clench and his eyes would flicker gold.
It fuelled something ugly and twisted inside him.
Jealousy.
“Jealousy is a weak man’s disease” Niklaus had told Elijah many times over the centuries. “A man who knows his worth and his strength never had to fear that his girl would stray. Jealously means they are nothing. I am not nothing, I never will be.”
And yet, as soon as Y/n’s attention was given to an attractive werewolf, Klaus would feel as though he was nothing. He would feel that weakness that he loathed so deeply.
The only way to diminish that jealousy was to eliminate the threat. To pick away at the weakness piece by piece until only strength was left.
But that didn’t go well.
When Klaus killed a werewolf, Y/n went ballistic. It was the first time she had actually yelled at him, expressed her anger and threatened his position.
“It’s like you’re actually a fool! You hurt my pack and they will not protect you nor your child, this marriage will be pointless and finished-“ she ranted and his anger bubbled.
“This marriage will not end just because our pack says so” he growled and she glared at him, her pointer finger jabbed at his chest aggressively and it took everything within him not to snap it in half.
“It is hardly a marriage and it had only happened for the benefit of my pack and for your daughter. It is you that has a hundred enemies banging down the door at night and it will be you that suffers if you do not have the protection that I offer you.” She snapped and he sneered in her face. He wanted to kill her in that moment however at the same time, for whatever reason, he had never been more attracted to her. His wolf wanted to force her into submission. To spank and pound her until she admitted that she was his and wouldn’t ever threaten to leave him again. But he was also beyond furious at the possibility of his daughter’s life being on the line and so stormed past her before he would harm her.
He ignored her mutterings of how pathetic he was and locked himself in his arm room which was utterly destroyed by the end of the hour due to his never ending rage.
The next morning he had expected a pack of wolves to be stood at his door, angry and threatening. However he found them all sat at their long table, Y/n was at the head informing them that they had ‘found’ the pack member already dead and had brought him here so that they may take care of his body accordingly.
She lied for Klaus.
She let her family believe that it was someone else who had killed the wolf. When they accused Klaus, she snapped back at them that he was with her all day and had helped her take care of the body.
Y/n gave Klaus a look that dared him to contradict her words but he didn’t utter a word. He just stood at her side and placed a hand on her shoulder as he listened to the others discuss the traditional funeral that the wolf deserved.
Once they left, Y/n walked straight past Klaus and to her bedroom. She was unwilling to speak with her for the next few days. The only time she would was regarding Hope.
The small toddler had taken a strong liking to Y/n and often asked for her. Nobody could not love Hope once they spent some time with her so Y/n was always happy to have the baby in her arms.
Klaus too, very much enjoyed the sight of his wife holding his child. His mind began to spin together images of Y/n pregnant with his child. His wolf craved the thought. He could imagine how beautifully round her stomach would be and how he would press his hands to the bump while nuzzling into her hair.
And then he would think of how he would get her pregnant. She would be so gorgeous sprawled out in his bed.
Since their wedding day she had been in her own room but now Klaus desperately wanted her in his.
He wanted to be inside her. To claim her. To love her.
Never did he think he would love her.
Then again, never did he think he would be getting married or having a baby.
But all of those things had happened and he wouldn’t take them back. Perhaps he might’ve gone about them a little differently but he would have still wanted them to happen.
He told her that once.
One night when they were having dinner.
Somehow he had managed to convince her to share a meal with him and him alone. She couldn’t be bothered to fight over it so complied.
Y/n hadn’t expected him to actually make such an effort. Or to have been so lovely the entire evening. It was clear he wanted to impress her and to engage her, and he had but she didn’t understand why.
Until he told her of how he wouldn’t have changed things,not fully. He had admitted to her that he was somewhat happy with the fact that they were married. He didn’t say he loved her, he knew that would through her off but he made it obvious that he liked her much more than he had initially expressed.
She wasn’t so sure how to respond to him.
Y/n had thought that he was only nicer to her lately because he too was avoiding arguments but she hadn’t truly believed it was because he was being genuine.
Klaus noticed the frown on her face and looked down at his plate. “It’s a little silly I suppose” he muttered to himself, he couldn’t help the deflated feeling that travelled through him as he placed his fork down. “Neither of us wanted this marriage” he mumbled while standing up from his seat making his chair scrape against the floor with a painful sound.
Y/n felt the guilt sink in and she quickly got up also and rounded the table as he started to walk away. “Klaus,” she called softly, reaching out for his hand.
His eyes fluttered when she held onto his hand, he hadn’t felt the softness of her touch since their first and only kiss of their relationship from their wedding day.
He glanced to her and reluctantly shrugged her off. “No it doesn’t matter, I was being a fool” he argued and kept walking.
Y/n sighed to herself and rubbed her hands down her face in frustration.
The next morning Klaus ignored her, barely looked at her even.
It was later that day that she finally caught his attention and pulled him off into another room.
“Klaus” she murmured in annoyance when he went to open the door she had just pushed shut. “You’re behaving like a child” she tutted and he growled. “Would you just stop?” She told him and he glared at her.
“What do you want?” He asked, not bothering to soften his tone which made her frown again.
“I want you to talk to me” she whispered and he narrowed his eyes.
“You never want to talk to me.” he snapped, “you only want to because I made a stupid mistake”
“It wasn’t a mistake” she told him, her tone much gentler than his. “I just wasn’t expecting it”
“Why? Because it’s so shocking that I could possibly feel something-“
“God, Klaus no. You know I dont think you’re a heartless monster-“
“That strongly contradicts things you’ve said in the past-“ he argued and she made a sound of frustration.
“Well I’ve changed my mind” she told him and his jaw tightened. “Klaus I’m serious. I know you now, I’ve seen you”
“Then what is it about me that you cannot love?” He whispered and her eyes softened further. They stared at each other until Y/n stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Her arms went around his midsection and his went over her shoulders.
“It isn’t that I can’t” she mumbled and he closed his eyes
“You just don’t want to” he whispered but she still shook her head.
“I just don’t know how to” she corrected and he hummed quietly.
“But I love you” he uttered and she nodded.
“I know that now” she agreed “and I’ll make sure that I take that into consideration but Klaus, you can’t just expect that I’ll suddenly be all over you and madly in love” she told him and he frowned.
“Why not?” He asked and she scoffed softly. For centuries woman had been falling at his feet but the one woman that he married wouldn’t?
“Because the world doesn’t revolve around you?” She whispered, a little laugh in her voice that made him a little annoyed at first but when he saw her face he couldn’t help but laugh a little bit with her. Eventually he sighed and looked down with a small smile and a nod.
“I’ll earn your affections” he promised, kissing her forehead before exiting the room.
And from that day, he tried his very best to do just that.
Though of course they still had their arguments and disagreements, now he would be the first to apologise or to admit his wrong doings.
And slowly, like he had hoped, Y/n began to love him too.
Rebekah, Elijah, Hayley, Jackson and all the other wolves began to notice the much softer side to them both when they touched to spoke to each together. Some were happier than others about the change in dynamics between the two.
Jackson for one, was very put off when Klaus kissed his sister in front of everyone. What was worse was that she kissed him back and asked him to grab her a drink. They behaved like a real married couple. The wolves didn’t like it.
Some of them went as far to verbalise their opinions but Klaus’s siblings were quick to shut them up before they could upset Y/n. They reminded them that it was in the best interests of everyone that the two got along rather than Y/n living a miserable life just for the benefit of the pack. Eventually the majority agreed and kept quiet.
Jackson was most concerned.
Especially when he came round to visit and found Y/n sprawled across Klaus’s lap while reading a book..
“Y/n” he called, his gaze hard as he watched her lift her head and smile before getting up and going out for lunch with her brother. He expressed his worries and she assured him that Klaus was much better now and that she felt that she could love him. Jackson knew that her using the word ‘could’ was solely for his benefit. She wanted to say that she did love him.
With a small sigh he nodded and told her to just be happy and thanked her once more for everything she had done for him and their family.
When Y/n came home Klaus had made her a bubble bath for her to relax in. She laid in the water for a while before getting changed into comfy clothes and wondering downstairs. Klaus was in the kitchen grating Parmesan cheese over two dishes of pasta.
She smiled and sat at the table quietly, smiling at him when he placed the bowl infront of her before sitting down opposite with his own dish.
Klaus twisted his fork in the spaghetti and asked how her day with Jackson was. They chatted while they ate before loading the dishwasher and heading upstairs.
Y/n had been sleeping in his room lately. Mostly because they would accidentally fall asleep beside each-other when watching a film before bed but then Klaus asked if she would feel comfortable sharing a room with him and she agreed.
So this time they naturally just went to Klaus’s room or rather their room.
His eyes watched as she disappeared into the bathroom, a soft hum left her and her hips swayed gently. The tap started running which meant she was brushing her teeth and he followed her in and grabbed his own toothbrush to do the same. He glanced at her in the mirror as she focused on her mouth. He cleared his throat and finished cleaning up before kissing her head and going into their room to get changed into his sleep pants which he had only been wearing because he wasn’t sure if she would be comfortable with him in only briefs.
Klaus was unaware of how Y/n would imagine his naked body against hers, pressing and sliding against hers while they panted beneath the sheets of their bed.
It was why she started wearing tinier pyjamas to bed, in hopes it would entice him that extra bit.
The little shorts would allow him a glimpse of her ass, as though it was teasing him. And the little matching vest top would wrap around her upper body perfectly.
Klaus sat down on the bed and watched as she walked back in. His eyes glanced to wear her taut nipples would press against the Cotten of her clothes down to her long bare legs that he desperately wanted to bury between.
She let out a yawn as she slid into bed beside him and beneath the covers. He pulled her closer so that their bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces and sighed quietly as though having her touch soothed something inside of him.
“Thanks for tonight” she whispered as she leaned up and kissed his lips before laying her head down on her pillow. Klaus hummed and laid down with her.
“Thank you for having dinner with me again” he smiled and she returned it, her hand moved to caress his gently and he held onto hers tenderly.
“You don’t have to thank me for that, I love having dinner with you” she told him and his eyes flickered between hers as he took in her words because they both knew what she was actually saying.
“You do?” He whispered and she nodded.
“I do.”
Klaus kissed her again, for a few seconds longer this time. Just as he pulled his lips away from hers, she pushed them back together with a little more force. He groaned softly, his hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her ass to grip the back of her thigh and lift her leg up so her knee slide over his hip. His hand slid up under her shorts to feel the soft warmth of her pussy against his fingers.
Y/n moaned quietly against his mouth. Both her hands caressed his neck gently before one moved lower. Klaus grunted softly and pulled away from their kiss as he felt her hand cup his erection through his pants.
Their eyes locked as both their hands moved slowly, teasingly.
A small whimper left Y/n as Klaus’s fingers rubbed over her clit. She brought her hand under the waistband of his pants and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she felt the length and thickness of him. Klaus’s mouth fell open slightly as he breathed shallowly.
Her hand pumped his cock slowly as he slipped a finger inside her. His thumb glided over her sensitive little bud, his eyes urging her to please move her hand faster. She complied and stroked him quicker, squeezing as she went.
His hips thrust against her hand while two fingers curled inside her to find her spot.
The whole room became hot and dark as the night deepened and the blankets were pulled over their heads to make them feel closer. Their breathing mixed together and little moans left them both as their hands moved faster.
Their mouths moved together sloppily as moans vibrated from both of them and their body moved in time to meet the other’s hand.
Y/n went first, her neck arched making Klaus move his lips down to suck along her throat while his hips thrust and his fingers fucked her fast. He panted as her cry of pleasure left her and he felt her pussy clamp down and release. It only took a few more squeezes of her hand around his cock for him to cum across her stomach.
They both lay, breathing heavily and looking at eachother. Y/n’s eyes squinted to see him in the dark, his hands were moving her onto her back so he could slot on top of her. Her thighs were nudged open and a gasp left her as the head of his cock started to push into her.
Klaus leaned down and kissed her again, deepening it in seconds so he could taste her while his cock finally felt the soft, wet warmth that he had longed for.
A strained cry of relief left her and her back arched off the bed as he filled her completely. His hands slid up her body and scrunched her shirt up above her breasts so that he could lean down and wrap his lips round one of her nipples.
“Klaus” she whimpered as his hips thrust slowly and his tongue flicked teasingly. He moaned softly around the bud before sucking it between his teeth. He released it with a pop before kissing up along her chest and throat until he took her lips to his. She kissed him back hungrily, accepting his tongue into her mouth without any resistance as his hips rolled faster into her.
He only pulled away from her lips when her pussy went unbearably tight on his cock, he let out a loud groan as he fucked into her as quickly as he could.
The harsh slap of his skin meeting hers repeated through the room alongside her moans for more. Klaus could feel himself getting closer to cumming and he was determined to fill her up. He wanted her to carry his next child.
His tongue traced the shell of her ear as she cried out and his fingers reached between her legs to rub at her clit until she was crying to cum.
“Shh sweetheart” he purred to her, “let me fill you” he whispered and the realisation of what he meant dawned on her.
“Klaus” she whimpered as she felt his cock release inside her. His hips slowed but didn’t stop as his cock softened momentarily before hardening again inside of her still.
He grunted softly as he glanced down at her, his fingers gently rolled over her clit while watching his cock slide in and out of her. He could see his cum spilling out of her and he desperately tried to fuck it back inside.
“I want you to be full of my child” he muttered to her and she moaned softly, her hand lifted to cup his cheek to draw his attention to her eyes.
"I love you" she whispered and he groaned quietly as he kissed her lips just briefly so she could speak again, "and I'll love our children" she told him making his hips buck roughly into her. She moaned in response and wrapped her arms around his neck while resting her head against his. "You''ll be such a good daddy to them" she murmured and a low growl rumbled through his chest as he took the praise and thrived off of it.
Y/n felt his pace quicken and her pleasure heighten making her kiss across his cheek to his ear slowly, "Please daddy?" she purred while her cunt clenched repeatedly and her lower stomach twisted into a series of knots. "Please give me your babies" she begged and he couldn't stop from snapping. His mind and body went haywire making her scream his name. Her body was practically vibrating as her body met his for the hundredth time and her head went back allowing his mouth to reattach onto her neck.
Her eyes rolled back when his teeth sunk into her throat.
Bliss rolled through both of them until their bodies were a heated, sweaty mess amongst the sheets.
His hand held the back of her head holding her face into his chest as they panted heavily. Her eyes closed as she felt him stroke her hair soothingly while he slid his cock out of her and caressed her swollen clit ever so gently with his thumb.
Y/n whimpered weakly and he smiled as he glanced down to watch her brows furrow together while her hips slowly rode the pad of his finger until one last cry left her alongside another orgasm.
Once he had ensured she was finished, he cleaned them both up and then their bed before dropping her down onto the fresh bedding and taking warmth in her giggle when she reached out and pulled him to lay beside her.
Klaus kept her snuggled up to him all night and into the next morning before reluctantly getting up and going downstairs to join the rest of the family.
He knew that everything was finally working out.
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marypsue · 1 year
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So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."
I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.
Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.
And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.
The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.
(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)
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midniiights-garden · 4 months
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Mizu realising she's in love/a lesbian [Headcanons!!]
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(A/N: I feel like this is like... already a given but please remember that these are HEADCANONS!! She does not have a canon sexuality. And I know it's mostly the lesbians who haven taken over the show but my content is available for everyone to see and I wanted to remind everyone that I am not going to tolerate slander or trash talking because of a personal opinion. You are entitled to your thoughts and I am entitled to mine.)
Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex and sexual encounters, M*kio (you cannot stop me from putting this man as a warning I hate him sm), Canon typical violence, Racisim, Homophobia, Mysogyny (did I spell that right??)
Firstly I wanna address her relationship with Mikio in order to fully understand my headcanons.
Personally I do not believe that Mizu actually "loved" Mikio in the romantic sense. She thought she was in love, but in the end it wasn't.
Speaking as someone with a lot of personal trauma regarding relationships myself I realised that I couldn't differentiate between romantic and platonic love. Basically, for me, all I saw was that someone was treating me nicely for once and now I'm attached to them. And for the longest time I thought that was what love was.
And I think Mizu experienced something similar.
Basically, when Mikio treated her like a fucking human being she was like "oh, hey this is nice. This is weird, but it's nice. So I guess I'm in love, right?"
Like, no, baby. You aren't. That's just called emotional trauma.
That's also why she thought she was straight for the longest time because she genuinely cannot tell when she likes someone romantically.
As I often restate it'll take a while for her to fully understand the extent of her emotions, but she'll get there.
Now onto the fluffier stuff :))
~~~
How does she realise she's in love? What's her reaction to it?
I think she gets hit with the realisation as if it were a train crashing into her.
It's just a normal evening, she's probably at a ramen shop with her future S/O with her and then as she's taking a bite of her ramen she looks over at you and thinks: "Huh... I wonder what it would be like if I got to hold them?"
And then it's just a record scratch moment for her where she's like wtf where did that come from.
It's either just normal domestic moment like I mentioned or her future S/O sparring with her (which may or not freak her out bc of the fucking Mikio incident).
But when Mizu successfully pins her S/O down they just laugh and smile, knowing Mizu would never hurt them on purpose.
That made Mizu's heart flutter more than anything Mikio had ever done for her.
She's going to be in denial about it for a long time. Like... a really, really long time. Cue the "but we're just friends"!
How does she react when she realises she's into girls?
Due to the internalized homophobia instilled within her as a child and other such thoughts she starts to think she may be going crazy.
She'll start to pull away out of fear, not truly understanding her emotions.
Which, of course, will hurt her future S/O and cause them to worry.
Seeing her future S/O so distraught kind of triggers something in her. She realises that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, that she's still a person and the person she likes is still a person and that there shouldn't be anything wrong with liking her S/O. She also just didn't like seeing you worry over her, it hurt her more than any blade that she's been stabbed with.
Now onto her actual physical attraction.
Once the whole emotional side of it is somewhat sorted in her mind she finds herself not so subtly staring at her S/O's tatas.
She doesn't strike me as someone with high libido or anything despite what I've seen a lot of headcanons say. But I think shes the kind of lover to enjoy getting her S/O off a lottttt
I don't believe she was ever really attracted to Mikio sexually but seeing her S/O's kimono slip off their shoulder to reveal some titty has her red and hot.
She likes that it's soft. She really likes the softness of her S/O's body.
~~~
(A/N: That's all!! I feel like I was terribly self-indulgent with this one but there are a lot of aspects in which I relate to Mizu with. Which is probably why I care a lot about representing her correctly. As usual, feel free to comment or send asks to my inbox!! I hope y'all enjoyed <33)
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kamiversee · 2 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 23 || The Party Era
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language,  fluff, violence, drugs, & slight mention of alcohol consumption.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.8k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——AFTER THAT INTIMATE morning, you and Gojo consider yourselves to be on decent enough terms. Of course, you still hate him-- or, at least you think you do, and he slowly begins to change in a good way.
When he talks to you, which is more often than before since you're no longer trying to ignore his existence unless necessary, his tone is always soft and filled to the brim with affection. You try not to bring up the fact that he claimed to be in love with you but it was extremely difficult not to think about it.
Blackmail or not, you can't just ignore his confession.
Shoko mentioned that he was in love with you before but you didn't want to believe her so, now that he's told you, you genuinely don't know how to feel.
His words echo in your brain constantly, so much so that it grows annoying. It's like you can't unhear it-- Gojo really said he was in love with you. It wasn't a dream, wasn't something someone else told you he said, and it wasn't a lie, Gojo Satoru confessed his love to you.
You hate it though.
You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.
Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?
If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him.
A sigh escapes you as you think about it. By this point in time, it's roughly been two weeks since that faithful morning and you can't stop thinking about it. You have so many questions, wondering to yourself when it'll all make sense.
Then, there's also the longing you feel in your chest to see Choso again.
Of course, you haven't stopped thinking about him. You can't wait for the list to be over. The fact that there are only two people left makes it feel like a lot less pressure on you.
From here on out, you just want everything to go smoothly-- that's all you ask for.
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In the two weeks you spent at peace with Gojo, you and him have talked about who your next target should be; Sukuna or Nanami?
He tried to explain that Sukuna would be easier than Nanami but you quickly told him that you're not sure you trust his difficulty levels when no one you've seduced has been that hard. Well, with the exception of Mr. Fushiguro, seducing him took weeks of you pretending you had some kind of assignment to complete.
But even so, you still managed to pull that off. If anything, you felt a little more confident in yourself about seducing the last two people, thinking it'd be a nice walk in the park from here on out.
With this newfound confidence in yourself, you tried telling Gojo that it didn't matter which order you seduced the last two in. "Almost every difficulty level you've given me so far has been wrong, y'know..." You told him over the phone.
Though you couldn't see it, his lips pulled into a pout, "That's not true, sweets... Suguru was medium, no?"
"No, Satoru, he was easy..." You hum, "The only reason he'd be considered anything close to medium is because I had to get used to his uhm... teasing."
Gojo smiles foolishly at the way you say his name, his heart swelling in his chest over such a simple conversation with you, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He hums, "Anyway, it's still up to you who you wanna go for first, I was just sayin' Sukuna will be easier."
You sigh, "How so?"
"Well for starters, he's having a party this Thursday so like..." Gojo shrugs sheepishly on the other side of the phone, "If you're free, you could come there with me and meet him."
"Uhuh... And what about Nanami?" You question as you jot things down in your journal, your body comfortably laid out across your bed.
"Hmmmm..." Gojo hums dramatically in thought, "I think there's a bar he goes to every weekend?"
"You think?" Your eyes narrow, "I need you to be sure."
"I'm like ninety-nine point nine percent sure." He says, "He goes on Friday nights so, y'know..."
"Are you suggesting that I formally meet Sukuna and Nanami, then decide who I want to sleep with first?" You ask for clarification.
"Pretty much, yeah."
You look around your room for a second in thought before shrugging, "Alright, sounds like a plan."
Gojo smiles, "Really? So... you do realize this means you'll be going to a party with me, right?"
"Okay?"
Curiosity sparks within him, "Do you even like parties?"
"Eh, I haven't had enough friends to want to go recently. But, I used to go to them a lot during Freshman year." You explain casually, earning a hum from him.
"Aww, and you didn't invite meee?" Gojo whines.
"I didn't know you, Satoru..." You sigh, finding yourself smiling ever so slightly at his silliness, "We literally met this semester."
"Sure about that?" He asks as if you don't recall talking to him for the first time early that August.
"Uhm, yes?" You arch a brow, "What, do you remember us talking before this year or something?"
"Nah." He hums, "But I do remember seeing you around a lot."
You begin to close your journal, "Really?"
"Mhm."
"And you never said hi?" You tease, mocking his earlier joke to you.
Gojo chuckles nervously, "I was too shy."
"Oh please." Your eyes roll, "You? Shy? Yeah right." A scoff leaves your lips in reaction to his claims.
"I'm serious." He emphasizes.
"Whatever..." You decide to brush off the topic. The phone call has lasted long enough so, you try to end it, "Anywho, we have a plan all worked out so text me the details for this party and I'll see you then."
"Aww," Gojo pouts again, "You're hanging up so soon?"
"Yes."
"C'mon, I wanted to talk some more..."
You scoff and your voice is sarcastic as you respond, "Skill issue."
Gojo bursts out laughing, "Seriously?"
"Suck it up pretty boy," You joke further, "We'll talk later."
He smiles from ear to ear, "Oh? You think I'm pretty?"
"Bye Satoru." You say flatly.
He sighs heavily and gives up, "Bye sweetheart." There's then a second of silence as you move the phone away from your ear but his next words make you freeze, "I love you."
Your heart pulses strongly, "...If you're expecting me to say it back, you're going to be disappointed."
He chuckles lightly, "I don't expect you to say it back, jus' want to make sure you don't forget."
You couldn't possibly forget that. "Right, okay, bye." The phone is quickly removed from your ear to end the call and then you toss the device across the bed.
Your heart is beating so rapidly for some reason. You do not feel the same way for him but that doesn't change the fact that hearing those words from someone makes you feel all tingly inside.
After only a second or two of gushing at his words, you return to your usual neutral mindset and pick your journal up. Your body slides off the bed and you walk to the drawer you keep it in, making sure to lock it as you place the item inside. Then, you sigh and head back to your bed.
Flopping down face first, you groan into your pillow-- wondering how the rest of this will play out. It feels weird to be on speaking terms with Gojo again. You can't exactly say you missed it but you also couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, even though the conversation wasn't long.
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With that, the rest of the week leading up to Thursday went by in a blur like always. Your schoolwork hardly ever overwhelmed you since you had that very well organized and for once, life somewhat felt like it was entering an era of peace again.
However, deep down inside you still missed Choso.
Not talking to him daily or hardly ever anymore really made you remember how boring your free time was. Perhaps that's why Thursday came so fast...
You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, your hands tracing over the silhouette this expensive dark red dress provided for you-- the item being something Gojo bought for you the very second you told him you weren't sure what to wear.
For someone who so easily deposited money into your account every time you slept with someone and bought you things the very second you made even the slightest complaint, you wondered what the hell he was in debt for.
Perhaps all of the people on the list truly couldn't be paid with money? Even so, you can't help but question what the hell he did to these men to the point where payment in the form of sexual satisfaction was established.
Toji is the only person on the list that you know the backstory for but, even then you still don't know how sexual satisfaction was agreed as a method of payment. And to add to those questions, does Gojo tell the men after you sleep with them that you were his form of payment?
If so... wouldn't that technically mean Choso should know about that?
You groan slightly as you get confused just thinking about it. It's like you're missing so much information here. The entire thing is steadily starting to make less and less sense as you go on. Not to mention the fact that he said he deleted the video of you a long time ago.
Does that mean he considered letting you go from the list? How long has he had the video erased from his phone?
You finally shake out of your thoughts when the man in question sends you a text, the chime from your cell prompting you to turn your head to the idle device on your bathroom counter. You pick it up to see a simple text that reads; 'I'm downstairs, sweetheart'.
You simply leave the man on read before making sure you have everything and heading out of your bathroom. Once you make it out of your bedroom, you spot Shoko typing away on her laptop in the living room.
The sound of you closing your room door makes her turn her head back to look at you. She gives you a wolf whistle and flashes that pretty smile of hers at you, "Heyyy beautiful." She greets teasingly.
You smile, "Hey roomie, how do I look?"
"For a party hosted by Sukuna, I'd say pretty damn good." It's no surprise that she knows who's hosting the party you're going to, Shoko always seems to be up to date with those kinda things.
A chuckle leaves your lips while you make your way to the front door, "Thank you but, I'm surprised you're not coming."
She shrugs, "I have like four assignments due tonight and my professor is a complete bitch about turning things in late." A little frown pulls at her lips, "Any other day, I'd totally go with you though."
"Maybe next time," You suggest, smiling at her, "Oh, and, I know this is a weird question but like, do you know his full name?"
"Who, Sukuna?" Shoko asks, raising a brow.
"Yeah." You nod. The memory of Choso hardly ever speaking about the guy he's supposedly related to runs through your head and you find it odd since he always seems so family-orientated.
"Itadori Sukuna, last time I checked." Shoko informs you, "But if you call him by his last name he'll be a dickhead about it. I think he hates it 'cause that's what connects him to his younger brother or something."
You blink. That somewhat explains a few things, "Damn, you sure know a lot..."
Shoko winks, "Benefits of going to parties to be nosy, you should do it more often."
With a laugh, you nod your head, "Well, thanks for that."
She flashes you one last smile and then raises her hand to wave you bye as you open the door and exit the apartment.
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When you get downstairs and to Gojo's car and quickly seat yourself in the passenger seat, his eyes are all over your appearance like he's starstruck.
A handsome smile spreads across his face, "You're absolutely breathtaking, y'know that?" Gojo complements.
You roll your eyes and begin putting your seatbelt on, "Seeing as you're able to speak perfectly fine, it doesn't sound like I'm all that breath-taking." You fire in response.
He chuckles and his bright blue eyes slip up and down your body, "You didn't hear the way I choked when I saw you walking toward the car."
"Aw, did you?" You respond mockingly.
"Mhm..." He hums lowly, suddenly focusing more on your face. His head is resting on the palm of his hand as he leans against the console in between the two of you.
You swallow and then just barely turn your face to him, "Plan on staring at me all night?"
"If I had the option to, I definitely would," Gojo says honestly.
You roll your eyes at him again and scoff.
"I'm serious." He utters, "If I got a dollar for every time your face has made my brain turn to mush, I'd be a fuckin' trillionaire."
With a sigh, you nod your chin toward the steering wheel in front of him, "Drive your car, Satoru. We don't have all night."
Gojo's eyes soften for a second as he actually loses himself in staring at you, "...You heal me," He suddenly says.
"What?" Your brows furrow and your face twists up while you meet his gaze.
He looks into your eyes for a second longer before turning his head to face forward, "I'm a broken man, sweetheart." Gojo explains as he moves his large veiny hands to the wheel in front of him, "And you... you heal me little by little every day."
You're unsure what to make of his poetic claims. Is this another type of confession? What does he mean he's broken? How do you heal him? What the hell is going on inside that brain of his??
Gojo glances over at you one more time, moving his hand to poke the center of your forehead, "Don't think on it too much, you'll get a headache trying to decipher my nonsense, sweets." He says in a soft tone.
You find it weird he even refers to his own claims as nonsense when it's far from such a thing. The things he starting to say to you are becoming more and more complex, hidden meaning behind his words and secret bittersweet implications slipped in between his claims.
You gently move his finger away from your head and nod, "Whatever... just drive already."
Gojo smiles, "Yes ma'am."
With that, he returns his hand to the wheel and does exactly as you've told him to, quickly driving to the destination of the party.
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There, you could hear lively music blaring from outside this large mansion. The place wasn't too far from where your campus is and you wondered how you went so long without ever being aware of its existence.
As stated before, you used to be quite the partier and most venues have been blessed with your presence. Yet, there you were, getting out of the car with Gojo and heading inside a house you'd surprisingly never been inside before.
Outside of the large estate, you spotted all kinds of people doing all kinds of things. It was expected and all but it had been such a long time since you've seen people having this much fun.
For starters, Choso isn't a partier. Why do you think about that now? Well, you asked him about it but he told you the chances of anyone catching him at a party are zero to none. He much rather be at home engrossed in his artwork.
There's another instance where you're wondering how different of a person Sukuna is in comparison to Choso. Especially when this big ass party is being hosted by him.
Gojo suddenly swings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him while the two of you walk down the main path toward the entrance. The big double doors to the house are wide open, partygoers are scattered absolutely everywhere, and a large chunk of people are spotted inside.
Your gaze shoots over to the man all too close to you, "Satoru..."
"Sweetheart..." He replies.
"Why is your arm around me?" You question flatly.
He chuckles, a big smile painted across his overly handsome face, "I don't want you to get lost."
You blink, glancing away from Gojo and spotting people dancing, laughing, drinking, and even fucking in some places. Scrunching your face up at that last thing you spot, you continue to question Gojo, "What if Sukuna sees us like this?"
"He won't." He hums in response.
"How do you know?"
"Well... around a time like now, that asshole is probably somewhere in the middle of the party," Gojo explains.
The way he refers to Sukuna as an asshole has you worried. Are you going to have to deal with another Naoya?
Swallowing down a large gulp of nerves, you bat your eyelashes at Gojo, "Asshole...?"
He tenses up beside you for some unknown reason, "Uh... I mean, yeah." He shrugs, "Sukuna isn't the nicest guy in the world, everyone knows that."
"I didn't." You respond dryly, then you raise a brow in question, "He's not gonna be like Naoya though... right?"
Gojo looks down at you, finding your worried pout cute, and flashing a comforting smile at you, "No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."
The two of you finally enter the house and Gojo looks around, greeting some people he knows with a nod of his head while the two of you conversate.
You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"
Music is heard blaring further on in the party but you two haven't gone deep enough inside to not be able to hear each other yet.
"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.
There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth. You're confused about what pissed him off so suddenly, "What's wrong?"
He avoids looking at you, "Nothing sweets, just know he'll take greeeat care of you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" You murmur. The softness of your voice alone helps Gojo to somewhat come back to his senses.
"Sukuna..." Gojo pauses, thinking hard about something before shaking the thought away, "He uh... How do I say this... He'll," The man looks down at you again, "He'll be nice to you."
"...Will he?"
"Yeah, you're cute." Gojo compliments, shrugging all his thoughts off, "He likes cute girls."
"There's plenty of cute girls at this party," You point out, "What makes me so special?"
"Everything."
You scoff, "What-"
"This is about to be your eleventh question since we've been here." Gojo cuts off before giving you a comforting little smile, "Relax, everything will be fine, okay? Trust me."
Your lips purse together as you decide to drop all your questions for now.
Both of you continue walking deeper and deeper into the party, the volume of the music soon engulfing almost all of your senses. People were dancing all over the place, you saw a few drinking games taking place, some people were gathered together smoking, and it was all so lively.
While you walked with Gojo, you couldn't help but notice the way girls gawked at the man beside you, their eyes all over his face, and jealousy noticed in their expressions after they spotted you beside him. What made the whole thing better was the fact that Gojo didn't even glance at them.
The only woman whose eyes he ever looks into is yours. The only person's body he's drooling over is yours. Hell, the only person at this party Gojo even cared about was you.
At some point, he stopped to talk to some people he knew and you just stood quietly by his side. Gojo would give the people he spoke to this murderous glare if they even so much as peeked at you.
You wondered if you imagined the looks he gave some guys up until one was caught staring at your cleavage by Gojo. The man beside you tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "Fuck are you starin' at?" He spat out.
You were oblivious to what was going on at first until you saw who he was talking to; some weirdo leaning against a wall gawking at woman after woman. When he noticed Gojo was talking to him you watched how he immediately teared his eyes off you.
Gojo then dragged you along, making his way toward a dance floor. You looked up at him, "You look like you're gonna stab someone...." You said playfully, mocking him for the wicked look in his eyes.
He smiles and that look completely disappears, almost as if it were never there, to begin with. Meeting your gaze, Gojo pouts, "Who, me?"
"Yes you, don't try to act all innocent."
He snickers, "Stabing isn't the way I'd go about hurting someone but, alright."
"People stare at me all the time, y'know... You can't keep glaring like that." You say, looking away from him, "Especially when I'm not even your girlfriend or anything."
"So?" Gojo scoffs, "I don't like seeing people look at you like that and I couldn't care less if you aren't my girlfriend," He suddenly leans down to you and his eyes go dark again, "You're by my side, in my arms..." He explains lowly, "And even if it's not reciprocated, you're my love."
You stare, seeing the same look he had in his eyes that day he caught you, the same look he gave you when he said he wanted you. Gulping, you try to respond, "Satoru-,"
"I'm serious. They can look at any other chick in this party, just not you. Especially not when you're with me." Gojo claims.
"That's a bit possessive don't you think?" You point out, halfway joking.
"Oh, trust me," He smiles as if it's no big deal, "I'm aware."
You open your mouth to say something but he suddenly leans up and takes his arm off you, "Anyways, I'm pretty sure you'll find Sukuna somewhere in all that," He instructs, nodding toward the group of people dancing and shouting on the main floor. He starts backing away from you, "Text me if you don't though."
"You're leaving me?" You say dumbfoundedly.
"Well, Sukuna can't spot us together..."
"Right." Your lips purse together and you nod, the two of you finally splitting for the first time that night.
The music is so loud that you can feel the vibrations from the base of your toes as you walk into the crowd. You steadily begin to dance by yourself for a moment and at one point you get a drink to help you loosen up.
You didn't plan to overdo it or anything because the last thing you wanted was to be horny and drunk all over again but, you did get enough to give you a little buzz. The smell of weed was strong throughout the dancefloor and you would've partaken in that too but you definitely don't trust drugs from just anyone.
As your body sways with the music, you end up dancing back into some guy on accident but when you try to move, hands go to your waist and your hips, immediately making you uncomfortable. You tried not to make a scene about this random man touching you, casually trying to dance away from him.
Your body language made it so painfully obvious that you didn't want this guy touching on you and you eventually turned your head back to him, noticing that it was the same person Gojo snapped at earlier.
That realization caused goosebumps to form all over your skin and you tried telling the man to back off you. He definitely heard you but clearly ignored you, going as far as groping your ass and creepily smiling at you.
You grit your teeth and elbow the weirdo back away from you, creating only a bit of distance between you and him since there are so many people around. The creep still misses the hint and tries to come close to you again.
In the blink of your eye, one second he was trying to come to touch you again and the next you saw a fist make contact with his jaw, a crack heard even through the music as his body stumbled to the side and then made contact with the floor.
Your eyes went wide at the sight and some people around you cheered. Was getting punched in the jaw like this some kind of regular occurrence? Why were people cheering and laughing so suddenly?
The guy was out cold on the floor, people dancing around his still body as you stood in shock.
The person who punched the fuck out of him was standing where he once was and you turned around to face the guy.
Your heart probably skipped fourteen beats at the sight in front of you. Towering over your smaller frame, smiling maliciously at the motionless body on the ground, with dark yet attractive tattoos decorating his handsome face, bright pink hair, and harsh maroon eyes, Sukuna stood proudly before you.
You batted your eyes at the man, in complete awe of everything about him. The shirt he wore was sleeveless, revealing even more tattoos that went along his large shoulder, his bicep, and his wrist.
With a snarky laugh, you watch as he then disrespectfully spits on the knocked-out man's body, "Disgusting." Sukuna hummed.
Those sharp and surprisingly scary eyes of his snap over to you, the only person shocked by what just happened. The smile that was once spread across his face drops completely when he looks at you. You can feel every hair on your head stand up as you meet his gaze, your spine goes rigid and you think you start sweating.
Sukuna turns to face you and takes a simple step toward your nervous body, tipping his torso down and toward you so that he can be at eye level with you. You think you stop breathing entirely.
Why the fuck is he so intimidating? Why did he stop smiling? Why does he look like he's about to punch you next? Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you don't think any man has ever made you this utterly nervous from just a glance before.
His rose-tinted lips part and his voice is so low and deep you could feel your body getting tense, "This is the part where you say thank you."
You blink, "Th-Thanks." You hated yourself for stuttering.
He tutts, "Nono, not 'thanks', thank you, brat."  Sukuna corrects.
"Thank you," You say, your voice small.
He smiles at you, the sight making your heart race. A sexy and slightly raspy chuckle leaves the male, "Thaaat's more like it, good girl."
A strong throb of arousal thrums in your core at the sound of his words. It's embarrassing how such a simple phrase has you turned on already.
It was at that very moment you realized that this man was going to be different than the rest. Not Choso level different and not in any romantic sense but, the small conversation and his aura made one thing very clear.
Sukuna was in a league of his own. This man was a damn beast and you were both scared and excited to explore that.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???
NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???
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dalliancekay · 1 month
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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE
Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.
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Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.
Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.
WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.
But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.
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And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?
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How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?
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Why else would he be so worried about working on the Arrangement? Was he worried just for himself? Do we really think that?
Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale, yes, we saw that, but do they ever talk about what happened to the angel then? Do we?
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That he got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps? Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, there's no pomp around it, he thinks this and then does it. No hesitation.
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Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was gone. That he very likely left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?
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Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. His trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, with his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. That's HUGE. He's trying. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.
Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * A note on grief (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment
It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).
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bountycancelled · 4 months
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something more than friends
(lucy gray baird x reader)
tip me on kofi if you feel so inclined
requested: yep, I hope you like it anon♡
content: a little bit of angst but mainly fluff, men (derogatory), kinda lovesick!lucy gray, jealous lucy gray (we love to see it), pretty intense description of kissing but no smut.
warnings: a very brief mention of drinking, internalised homophobia but it doesn't last long, gay stuff (duh), lowercase intended I know boo I'm annoying.
a/n: I haven't read the book yet so idk much about the covey so their appearance may ooc but that's solely due to my lack of knowledge on them
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lucy gray baird never faltered when she sang.
there were very few things that could get under her skin when she was on that stage, strumming her guitar and twirling in her skirt as the district folk stomped along to the beat.
sure, sometimes drunkards and the occasional hung up ex would try to cause a scene, attempting to gain her attention from below, but she would simply roll her eyes, waiting for someone to take care of them so that she could go back to doing what she did best. performing.
so what exactly had happened to make the lucy gray baird, forget a line in a song?
she was quick to remedy her mistake, carrying the tune in such a way that most patrons didn't even notice her mess up. but ironically enough, the very cause of her brain fog noticed. you.
you gave her a worried look, but she brushed it off, willing herself to continue playing as if nothing was wrong. and technically, nothing was wrong. you were there, in the far back of the crowd, wearing a white dress with a drink in your hand. and Lucy Gray didn't mean to be cliché, but you really did look like an angel, something divine that she had the honour of setting her eyes on.
but obviously, she wasn't the only one who thought that.
you were speaking to some man. which was fine, you were always the most gorgeous girl in the room in her eyes and she knew that she wasn't the only one who appreciated your beauty, you were always needing to awkwardly laugh at men's advances and brush them off as best as you could, but you weren't doing that tonight.
you were laughing, a genuine laugh, leaning in to hear his voice over the music, over her singing. she wanted to jump off of the stage and break her guitar over that assholes face, and she couldn't explain why.
she had always known that one day, you'd settle down with a kind man who cared for you (not nearly as much as she did, but that was okay) and then she would see you less and less. but knowing didn't make the taste in her mouth any more bitter.
the first time you told her about a crush that you had, on a boy named Tom, she spent the whole night convincing you that he just wasn't right for you. you believed her of course, rejecting him swiftly the next week when he asked you to go on a walk with him, walking instead with lucy gray, hand in hand.
but then, she did it every time you spoke about a boy, and you started to believe her less and less. 'I think you're just jealous lucy gray, and you don't anybody taking my attention away from you.'
you were right, she was jealous, and the thought of you, with a man, it disgusted her to her core. which is why she took off as soon as her set ended, not even staying for the applause as she searched for you outside.
there you were, and thankfully, you were alone, no undeserving man in sight.
she ran up to you, her brown eyes seemingly sparkling even in the darkened night. "how'd you enjoy the show, darlin'?"
her heart jumped when you smiled at her, your eyes crinkling in joy as you took both of her hand in yours, squeezing them affectionately. "you have the voice of an angel, lucy gray. and I envy the lucky fella who's gonna marry you, and have to serenade them whenever they want."
lucy gray rolled her eyes in a good natured fashion, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach when you mentioned her getting married. "I already serenade you, sweet thing. and im not gonna let some wedding band stop me."
you laughed airily, leading her by the hand towards the lake, where you spent most nights together. you sat down at the edge, laying your head in her lap when she sat beside you. her hand went to your hair, and she fought the urge to by giddy at the sight of your head in her lap, you were just... perfect.
"who was that guy that you were talking to back then? when I was singing, I mean." she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.
you thought back to about an hour prior, picturing every person that you had been with throughout the evening as you tried to recall who she was asking about in particular. "oh! that was matthew, his dad and my dad go way back, but the two of us never really shared their closeness for whatever reason. but after speaking to him tonight I'm a bit upset that I never tried to grow a friendship with him earlier."
she nodded, her cherry glossed lips pressing into a thin line. "he doesn't just wanna be friends with you though, I could see it." you scoffed playfully, raising a brow at her curiously. "you were all the way up on stage, in the middle of your favourite song to perform, and somehow, you could tell that much from so far away?"
she opened her mouth to defend herself, but after realising just how insane the notion sounded when you phrased it in that way, she quickly closed it again. "I'm not gonna let any man take me away from you, lucy gray, believe me when I say that I can't live without you."
your words sent a fury of butterflies in her stomach, and she swore that felt dizzy as you picked your head up, moving your face so close to hers that your noses were almost touching. she wanted to kiss you. god, what the hell was wrong with her? how could she be thinking of you in this way?
despite her inner conflict, she made no moves to create some distance between your faces, selfishly wanting to stay like this for as long as you'd let her. "I wish we could get married." she sighed, her eyes widening at her own words. "I meant- not like, I didn't mean- not in, like, a husband and wife typa way-"
you cut her off with trying to, with a tilt of your head making her suck in a sharp breath. "you don't wanna do husband and wife things with me?" you asked, and she could swear that your voice had a certain tone about it, one that made her cheeks feel blazing and her breaths shallow.
she shook her head, her usually fierce tone reduced to a meek almost whisper. "we can't do those stuff together."
you were too close for comfort. she could feel the tip of your nose against hers and if you leaned in any further, she was sure that she would combust. "who cares if we can't? the more important question is, do you want to?"
inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. she had forgotten how to breath. this wasn't right, she knew that, so why were her lips on yours in a flash, her hands in your hair, around your waist, holding your hands, touching any part of you that she could reach as the two of you kissed? in public, no less?
she couldn't find it in her mind to stop, not when your soft, sweet lips moved in tandem with hers as if you were molded to fit each other. when you pulled away, with lucy gray chasing your lips with an involuntary whine, you held her by the shoulders, a look of concern on your face.
that was when she felt it. the guilt knawing at her stomach, and the tears thar flowed down her face. was she crying because of how overwhelming her feelings were for you? maybe it was because she knew that you would have to hide... whatever had just happened between the two of you.
you leaned your forehead against hers, you sweet voice easing her fear. "I love you." she nodded, not being able to say it back just yet, but she could only hope that you knew. she moved to kiss you again, being startled out of her mind by a girlish scream in the distance.
it was maude ivory, eyes wide and hand slapped over her mouth in shock, with an equally suprised tam amber standing next to her. lucy gray felt sick to her stomach.
"I knew it." tam Amber said with a shrug, moving to sit next to the two fo you as she stared out at the moonlit lake. "no one looks at their friend like how lucy gray looks at you."
"can I be the flower girl? and the maid of honour? and the priest?" maude ivory rambled, laying half in lucy grays lap and half in yours. you simply laughed, explaining that her dream wasn't exactly possible but flower girl was certainly doable as lucy gray watched, tears threatening to fall from her eyes once again. only this time, they were of relief.
the joy she felt in her chest, at the thought that you could be... together in front of the covey was the best gift she could possibly be given. you and her, together. not just as best friends. although it was hard to wrap her head around it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted and she had it on good authority that you wanted it too.
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