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#without any of the argument or doubt
outeremissary · 1 year
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I hate Goncharov so much it's unreal
#it's like a bad joke. I mean. it is a bad joke. but good god the way people behave over it is also a bad joke#every time I see that fake film referenced I think about the post about how it has the best women Tumblr could ask for#because any woman from a made up film can be vaguely girlboss-y without ever having any unpleasantly ambiguous details#all the shallow celebration of the idea of a female character without that unpleasant work of engaging with the complexities of one#without any of the argument or doubt#without having men to pass over her for or complain about her crimes against#that's why I hate goncharov. it's the pinnacle of shallow aestheticization of everything whether or not it's sincere.#historical media without the burden of engaging with history#queer media and queer history without having to imagine messy queerness beyond an online discourse#you can dip your toes into a made up academic discourse without the baggage of the academy#women and queer history and older media and sincere academic discourses surrounding minorities are things I see this site spit on#sure it's not everyone. but it's more than enough to make a guy bitter.#the older I get the more I understand critics who say that the triumph of fandom is when the simulacrum subsumes the real#I don't know. I don't know. it's like some kind of bad reflection. it's neither catalyst nor symptom but just a sad magic mirror of reality#that's the only true artistic triumph of everyone's favorite “forgotten” film.#sorry I have slowly become a serious hater. it was funny at first but now it isn't.#rambling
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literary-vandal · 1 year
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back on my bullshit reading the twilight saga for the fanfic and i feel a crit analysis a-brewin and i kEP THE FUCKMEYER HANDLE JUST IN CASE THIS EVER HAPPENED BOYS WE'RE BACK AT IT AGAIN-
#no im just kidding crit lit aint back on the menu boys#haha unless#no but i really am breaking down the points of narrative failure in Eclipse bc i feel this is where things really took A Turn in the series#there were A Lot of literal and metaphoric conversations that needed to be had in this book - developed and continued - and instead#there just *wasn't* any of that.#if you're going to have your series set up as a discussion of vampirism vs humanity#ok#here it goes:#(fuck)#twilight is pro-vamp/pro-death/pro-immortality#whatever you want to label it as in the narrative#now in New Moon we have the introduction of the other side of the coin: humanity. this is where jacob really shines#Eclipse should have been a “dig your hands into the dirt” book & really break down the rebuttal of “well Bella *should* choose vampirism”#like- have it hurt! have it be messy! have bella *really* weigh the consequences of losing everyone except edward forever. have doubt!#what feels so unsatisfying is that the narrative leans so blatantly towards immortality - it downplays the pro-humanity argument#and it does it in such a way where the downplaying is noticeable and it sort of ruins the whole discussion#this is how you give your readers a satisfying ending to your series. you do not have to answer the question 'which is better:#immortality as a monster? or mortal life as a perfectly OK human?'#what it DOES have to do is allow your readers to really think about the discussion at hand.#and when you don't give your readers the space to do that - when you corral them into a choice without letting them come up with their#own opinions and answers - they're going to feel as though there's something missing. because there is.#(now: this is *different* from Bella being a biased narrator. in fact - Bella *should* be biased because this is written in 1st person#(but having the writer's hand so blatantly in the book is akin to having a photographer's hand in the shot. you ruin the immersion)#i'm marking up a PDF right now with a bunch of commentary on Eclipse and honestly..... it's been fun.#..........uh.#if i came back as fuckmeyer would yall support me LMAO
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yokelfelonking · 8 months
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Post 9/11 Trivia
Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:
There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)
On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.
People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.
As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.
Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"
People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.
"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)
People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.
On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.
Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)
EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.
Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)
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ode2rin · 6 months
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there sure is never a dull day in your life ever since you somehow bumped your head somewhere and decided to marry gojo satoru.
he was, without a doubt, the most dramatic man you'd ever known.
“why aren’t you obsessed with me?”
and here he goes again making your marriage life comically interesting from his never-ending theatrics that you can’t help but adore. 
he isn’t gojo satoru if he wasn’t dramatic, after all.  it was all part of the deal, one you gladly accepted, promising to be by his side in sickness and in health.
“good morning to you, too, baby,” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. “what’s got you worked up this early?”
leaning against the bathroom door frame, his eyes fixed on you as you diligently performed your morning skincare routine. sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft, warm glow, making your features radiant as you applied your cleanser. and for a moment of sight, he got too lost in your beauty and almost forgot his plan of interrogation. 
but still, he needs to get to the bottom of this. “listen, i’m not looking for an argument, just understanding.” 
“okay, then,” you said, still attending to your skincare routine. “let’s hear this seeking of understanding.”
gojo’s gaze remained fixed on you as he considered his words carefully, “why aren't you obsessed with me like how i'm obsessed with you?”
“i’m in love with you.” you replied instantly, without a second in waste. because that’s how it has always been, loving gojo satoru and declaring it to the world was as easy as breathing.
you threw a side glance to your lover only to be met with glassy sky blue eyes looking at you and a pout telling you it wasn’t the right answer to the question.
“but you’re not obsessed with me,” he mumbles. “while i think about you every single minute of the day – in my sleep, in my lunch – i think about you, and i don’t think you think about me at all.”
“and where could this be coming from?”
“i was gone for 13 hours, and you only called me once. once, baby. do you even care about me?”
you attempt to explain, “you were on a mission—”
“i could have an injury,” he interjects, “i could have bumped my head somewhere, had amnesia, and forgotten about you.”
you couldn’t help but laugh at the possibilities he laid out just because you only called him once. finishing your skincare with a swift application of lip balm, you make your way to your lover, who is now resting his left temple against the doorjamb while earnestly watching you with the same look in his eyes from when you walked down the aisle.
“i think that’s fairly impossible, though,” you muse. your hands naturally find their way to his neck. “my husband is the strongest.”
strongest in the eyes of sorcerers and curses, perhaps, he is. but here? with you pressed close to him like this? he was nothing of any sort the strongest.
“what your husband right now is not the strongest but an unloved husband who couldn’t get his partner to call him to check on him,” he teases, putting great stress on ‘your’ because he was, in fact, yours.
“aw, must have been hard for him, huh?” you coo, going along with his teasing, “what can i possibly do to make up for it?”
“you can start with a kiss here,” he gestures to his lips, and you gladly oblige with a soft peck.
“too easy. what’s the next step?”
“and i want you to be obsessed with me. call me multiple times a day. text me. email me if you want.”
“okay, done. do you want me to write you a letter as well, like we’re in the '80s?” you sarcastically replied.
“sure, i’d love that,” he says with a chuckle before pulling you close enough to rest your head in the crook of his neck, his jaw resting on your temple as he caresses your back.
you closed your eyes, finding comfort in his warmth, and relishing every soft little kiss planted on your temple, until you felt his head drop onto your shoulder.
“i think about you every second of the day,” he whispers right in your ear.
jokes of being obsessed with you aside, it was truly a confession.
you could be beside gojo, peacefully slumbering, and there would always be that wave of need threading in his chest to be closer to you.
and behind his theatrics, none of his words held any bite of hoax. because after all these years, it still wouldn't sink in to him that there was someone who could take him for a husband.
but you're here – waking up next to him, doing your skincare next to his own set of toiletries, roaming around the house wearing his shirt, gracing the quiet corners of his soul with your laughter.
you're here, and it's everything and more that truly matters.
as you reach to cradle his face in your palms, you feel a squeeze in your chest from how he closes his eyes as if melting in your touch.
“even after all this time? you might get sick of me, my love.” you ask, a smile so evident behind.
“never,” he declares against your lips, a boyish curl of his lips slowly showing. “you, on the other hand, might get sick of me soon. seeing that you couldn't even call me twice after those long hours i wasn't home.”
you playfully roll your eyes at his accusation, of course he wouldn't let it off that easy. “i promise to call you twice and text you as much as i can. how's that sound now?” you hum.
“promise?”
“i promise,” you assure, sealing it with a kiss on the tip of his nose,  “and what do you mean, get sick of you? that’s nonsense. i told you right? it’s you for me.”
you for me. oh, how he likes the thought. sheepishly, he whispers in question, “even after all this time?”
“until the end of time, toru.”
until the end of time. oh, heaven and earth, how he loves the thought.
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note. i miss him... terribly, i'm afraid. btw, here's a payback for all the angst..
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tojikai · 7 months
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Sundered 8: BRAKES
Pairing: Gojo x reader
• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |  Part 9 …+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments
word count: 6.7k
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But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.
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“Did you find it?” Before Satoru could even answer, you came jogging in. Your gaze shifted between him and Toji, curious as you noticed the awkward silence that took over when you approached. Or…has it been there before you came? “What is it?” You asked, puzzled. Walking inside, your eyes met Satoru’s. He shook his head, giving a small smile before answering.
“Nothing. Toji was just saying that we should check Yui’s things to make sure we didn’t forget anything else.” You could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, eyes half blinking. “Well yeah, I did. Her extra shirt was still on the hanger. I ironed it earlier.” You walked past him, smiling at Toji before you jogged upstairs, making the two men relax.
“Y-yeah, of course. I could free my schedule, just tell me the details.” Satoru’s voice was much lower; quieter when he was sure that you were out of earshot. Toji nodded, blinking as he took a deep breath. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her.” Satoru doesn’t know why he hid it from you, but he felt like it would only worry you. 
But could he really not tell you about it? He doesn’t want to lie to you.
“You know, it could only worry her; she probably doesn’t even trust us in the same room together.” He added as if sensing Satoru’s doubts. He’s got a point, but still, Satoru wants your relationship to be transparent. Yes, he still hasn’t told you about what happened with Naomi and his mother but that’s a different case.
“Just send me when and where.” Satoru took a deep breath, pulling out a calling card before quickly handing it to Toji as he kept an eye on the hallway to make sure you didn’t see any of it. “Though, she probably won’t be happy about not being informed of this-” Footsteps can be heard as you appear with the clothing item in your hand.
“Why didn’t you go to Yui? Let’s go.” You gave Toji a quick kiss and goodbye before walking out the door, looking back at him just to make sure that he was already after you. And he is, but not without glancing at Toji who only nodded at him. “I was waiting for you, I could see the car from there.” He explained, opening the car door for you.
“Yaaaay Mama! Dada!” The little girl put her hands up, opening and closing her chubby fingers, “Nummy!” She squealed louder as Satoru wiggled the pacifier in his hands, legs kicking as she desperately tried to grab it. “What’s my name?” He tried to keep the object away from her.
“Toru! Dada Toru!” She pushed on her chair, trying to move closer to her dad. Satoru laughed, letting her take the pacifier in her small hands. “Here’s your Nummy.” He cooed before putting on his seatbelt, ready to drive. You looked at him through the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze for a split second before you looked away.
“What is it?” He asked you, raising his brows as he drove. You shook your head, “Nothing, I was just…I was wondering if you and Toji get along well now.” You didn’t really want to ask this to Toji because he still gets grumpy at the mere mention of Satoru’s name in your conversations, which can’t be helped since they’re almost always about Yui.
“I think…” He let out a small laugh at the end of his short answer.  For a second, he thought about telling you of his conversation with Toji but— ‘It could only worry her.’ His words reverberated in his head, making him bite his lip, waiting for your reaction. “Okay. It’ll get better, I guess.” You let out a large breath, lightly slapping your thighs with your hands.
“I’ll… I’m really trying to be less annoying to him. I know that it’s uncomfortable for the both of you.” He was trying to find the right words to assure you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s threatening your new relationship. Your new happiness.
“And that he probably doesn’t even want you around me even for a minute and that’s why I was saying that we should lessen—” You turned to look at him, making him pause as he quickly glanced at you. He was worried that he may have said something wrong or hurtful to you. That’s the last thing he wants.
“Satoru.” You licked your lips, feeling bad that he was probably feeling the same way you did when he was still with Naomi. Probably much worse because he’s also regretting so many things at the same time. “We don’t have to do that. We do it for Yui, I could talk about it with Toji. I will.” You start to look back on how your ‘talks’ with him went.
But if it’s for Yui, you’re determined to make him understand and make all of this work.
“We can’t give Yui the family she deserves.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you leaned your elbow on the car window, massaging your temple. “But I don’t want her to feel that.” Thinking about the time scares you; how fast it goes, how quickly it changes. You fear that you’ll wake up one day and you won’t have answers to her questions.
“Hey…” You felt a hand on yours, noticing the car stop. You turned your head at Satoru, only noticing how blurry your vision has gotten. “You’re already doing so many things for her. She won’t feel that. That’s why I’m still here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone even if we’re not with each other.”
In Satoru’s head, he doesn’t like that you’re not with each other. But if that’s what heals you from everything he’s put you through, then so be it. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t be there for you; only heaven knows how much he wants to give you everything if only you allow it. 
But he’s not that lucky anymore.
It took you a minute to snatch your hand away, probably just needing the warmth that it provided you in that vulnerable time, but you still did. “Sorry,” He murmured as you turned away, wiping under your eyes quickly. “Did you have breakfast? I’ll get us something.” He cleared his throat, thinking about how Toji probably cooked breakfast for you.
“I’ll just have coffee–“ You sat up straight, getting cut off by your baby as she struggled to get out of her seat. “Mama! Ma!” She whined, kicking her feet as she reached up to you and pointing outside. “Do you want something, Miss?” Turning her attention to Satoru. “She wants to go inside.” You spoke, removing your seatbelt.
“Alright, come on.” You stepped out of the car to get her, letting Satoru take her small bag. She squealed at the drawing of the cartoon on the wall, making you kiss her cheek. “That’s why she wanted to go inside.” Satoru laughed, letting you walk in first. Greeted by the employee as you scanned their menu, your daughter started pointing.
“Such a cute baby,” An old woman beside you said, “Looks very much like the Dad.” She laughed, making Satoru pat the little girl’s head, proud. “Thank you, Ma’am. She’s a mini of him.” You joked, allowing the old lady to play with your child as you conversed with the employee.
For some reason, the interaction made you feel warm. It’s been a while since you felt like this when going out with them. You used to avoid these situations with him due to how things were, but lately, your guard’s been down around him. Maybe it’s because you can see with your own eyes how much he changed. 
If only he was like this before, would things have been better?
“How old is she?” The old woman’s voice sounded far, drowned by your thoughts. “She’s 2, ma’am.” You could feel Satoru’s hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes met his, overflowing with concern as he tried to keep a conversation with the woman until she left.
“You ok?” He spoke, adjusting Yui on the baby seat. “You zoned out earlier.” He made sure to pull the chair for you before going to his. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile, “It’s nothing, just trying to recall if I packed everything she needs.” It wasn’t convincing, but Satoru felt like he’d be meddling too much if he asked further.
Maybe he really should not add up to the things you’re worrying about.
———————————————————
“What is it about?” Satoru’s fingers tapped on his jeans, nervous as to what his baby mama's boyfriend was about to ask him. He was worried that it’d have something to do with the time he spent around you. Satoru isn’t sure if it’s possible to reduce that since you have a daughter.
“You know, to be honest, I just want to know how you see things.” Toji started, putting down his mug. “I know what happened between you and Y/N before I came along but I want to know what you were planning to do if I didn’t appear.” Satoru was confused as to why he was asking all of it but his brain started to think back to it, nonetheless.
At that time, he was thinking about marrying Naomi. He saw it as an assurance that he was doing so much better; convinced that she was truly the one for him. Spending a year with her, he was sure that she was the better person for him. What with his daughter calling her mom, he thought that maybe it could put an end to most of his problems with you.
Recalling all of this just made him realize how much worse things could’ve been.
Seeing the pain in your eyes the moment those hurtful words came out of his mouth set all of these plans on fire. You looked shattered; like the tiniest glimmer of hope in your eyes died along with your aching heart, hearing that the man you love regrets everything he had with you. 
It almost felt like stepping so abruptly on the brakes that he hit his head from the impact. When you crumbled in front of him that day, you were bare to Satoru. All the feelings, all the pain that you held in your heart were presented before him.
Satoru remembered thinking about why you were like that with him, why you acted indifferent. 'She has always loved me this much. She was just hurt.' And it broke him too. A couple of days after that, he tried. He tried to tell himself that it was just the emotions, that it was just the guilt eating him up and that’s why he couldn’t see anything but you. 
But he caught himself thinking about how he’d like to put you back together again piece by piece if he was given a chance.
He didn’t think too much of it; just a poor interpretation of his feelings towards your pain. He thought about his loving girlfriend, he reminded himself that there was someone who willingly put up with him when he was a mess. That’s how it always went. That’s how he pushed the thoughts of you away. With her, her words, her touch, her body.
But it’s never enough when he thinks about how you probably cry yourself to sleep at night, thinking about why you weren’t enough to get the same treatment that he was giving her. That’s when his plans started to falter; like a building threatening to crumble, dust began to shower down on them.
The day he went to your house, he found himself fixing his collar, and his hair, thinking about the words to say to you. And if you’re not there, he thought of ways to get to you. But there Toji stood. With a smug look on his face and marks all over his neck that scream “I just fucked the girl you dreamt about last night.” 
That day he wanted to ask him directly what the fuck he think he’s doing, but that wouldn’t seem right, knowing that Satoru’s nothing but a baby daddy to you. That day was a deja vu. All the events that happened between the two of you are being shown to him, and it seems like he’s feeling the pain threefold.
After that, Satoru tried. He tried to tell himself that he just got upset because of how disrespectful Toji was acting. He just couldn’t stand that he acted as if he owned everything in that place, even flexing the hickeys you gave him the other night.
He thought that was the worst he could see that day but for some reason, seeing you in that shirt with marks on your collarbones triggered something in him. A question he didn’t see coming popped up in his brain and along with it was the guilt that he felt for his girlfriend: 
Am I too late?
The next thing he knew he was getting up and getting ready for when you pick Yui up from his place. He caught himself pulling at his clothes and pushing his hair back as he waited for you to open your door; like a teenage boy waiting for his crush. He denied himself that he wanted to look good; to look better for you.
Until it all sank in; until he couldn’t handle it any longer. Each time he sees you with Toji, doing things that you should be doing with him, he gets pushed a bit more. He was already getting pulled back towards you again even before he came along but now that he’s beside you, it felt like Satoru’s spiraling back to you at the speed of light.
Then, that night happened. When all the bands that he used to stop himself snapped.
“I would appreciate it if we could be honest with each other. This could greatly affect the decisions I’m about to make.” Toji’s serious voice interrupted Satoru’s memories. He blinked, clearing his vision of him. He stared at the cup with a grim expression, which made Satoru realize the weight of the conversation.
This is not just a conversation, Satoru thought, licking his lips before speaking again.
“I’d…Back then, I was denying what I wanted. I…I was trying to get her back. Not just to make up for all that I said and done.” He rubbed his palms on his pants, seeing Toji lean back on his office chair. “I had a girlfriend, then. Naomi. I didn’t really want to admit to myself that my heart wants to get back with Y/N when I’m with someone so good to me.” He shook his head.
Satoru’s disappointment and anger about what happened between him and Naomi felt like a ton on his chest. She was a good woman to him and it’s true, but thinking about how everything aged; he can’t even bear the thought of her and his memories with her. It’s just sad that it had to end that way.
He can’t help but to blame himself for the actions that she took. He could’ve written a better ending for them.
Satoru heard Toji sigh as he straightened his legs under his table, crossing his arms as he nodded for Satoru to continue. “Then, you appeared. And I don’t know. I don’t even know how it happened but everything that I was feeling about her was rushing into me faster than it used to and maybe…” Satoru panted, shrugging as he gestured with his hands.
He couldn’t believe that he was really talking about this to his baby momma's boyfriend. “It just got me desperate. I told myself I was too slow and I lost my chance and I really did but…” He looked at Toji, wanting to convey his sincerity. “I just want her to be happy. I feel like all I did was ruin things for her. I don’t want to ruin what she has with you.”
It was a tough thing to say for Satoru. The words felt like shards of glass in his heart. It’s not what he wants but if it’s what he must do then he’ll do it. Toji’s silence got him wondering if he was pissed or relieved that Satoru was aware that he was not getting you back as long as he was there. But in Toji’s mind, that’s not the case.
“So you’re saying that you wanted to get her back even before she got with me?” He blinked slowly, trying to comprehend Satoru’s words. “I thought you only started to want her back because you don’t want to see her with someone else.” He didn’t bother filtering the words. He can’t think of a better way to put this.
“It’s always her. Even if I end up with someone else, I need her to know that I had always wanted it to be her.” 
Toji didn’t think that Satoru would be this transparent to him about his feelings towards you. There was an eerie look in his eyes as he stared at the open window, a defeated look plastered on his face. 
“If I didn’t enter the story, would you still be doing all of this for her now?” Satoru’s eyes were back at him, nodding as he sat straight. “Yes. It would probably take longer than it did but I’m sure that I was bound to fall back into her at some point.” Toji’s brows furrowed, trying to think of what the situation would be like if it were like that.
“Weren’t you planning to marry Naomi?” Satoru chuckled bitterly, considering it another poor and rash decision that he made. “I was. Before I fought with Y/N.” Before he found that small light of hope in your eyes. Before he realized that not all of it was lost.
Toji laughed, rubbing his face with his palm as everything that had been going on sank in. He’s talking with his girlfriend’s ex. And he’s telling him all of this. Like it’s the most natural thing to do. He sighed, swallowing as he bit his lip, feeling himself getting agitated by the second. 
“I know I said I’d appreciate honesty, but I didn’t think you’d actually say all that to my face.” He chuckled bitterly, recalling every sentiment he just said about you. “I’m her boyfriend. Her new man.” His chest heaved, blinking to allow himself to calm down. He’s the one who asked for this to happen, so why’s he the one getting pissed now?
“What do you want me to say?” Satoru’s voice was calm, looking away from Toji’s piercing glare. “You should’ve just told me to fuck off and stay away, though the latter one’s not possible because Y/N and I have a child.” Satoru sat up straight, as if getting ready to be kicked out. Toji’s jaw tightened visibly at the words.
Not because they’re insulting but because they’re right.
That’s what he wanted to do. He thought that if he couldn’t get you away from Satoru then maybe Satoru could just stay away from you. But obviously, it isn’t just some responsibility for him. Satoru isn’t the type of guy to just send money for his child. He’s not the type of guy to be just happy that his child knows he exists somewhere.
He wants to be present; to be there for Yui and watch her grow. He wants to be with her but of course, your circumstances wouldn’t allow that. Maybe this isn’t as easy as Toji thought it’d be and that’s what makes him mad. 
“Toji, I know we’re not on the best of terms with each other, but what are you trying to get with this?” Toji didn’t like how he asked it. It made him sound like a villain and that’s the last thing he wants. 
Is he getting so desperate that he allows himself to seem like one? “I agreed to this without knowing what you’re planning to do, I’m just here to be honest to you. Really.” Satoru wanted to ease the tension between the two of them for your sake. 
He knows that you’re still very uncomfortable with the two of them being around each other and that you’re also thinking about how to make it better. He thought that this “conversation” would help.
“Do you really love her? Or did you just learn to love her for your child?” Toji gave his all to sound composed, scratching the edges of his thumb with his index finger. “I don’t remember telling myself that I have to love her. I just know that I love her.” Toji could hear his teeth grind against one another; his frustration starting to surface.
“Look, if you want to hear from me that I am not trying to take Y/N away from you then, I’ll just say that.” Toji remained silent, forgetting what this meeting is supposed to be and how it’s supposed to go. He’s bothered by this ever since he fought with you, but he cannot let that cloud his mind of what he would deem to be right. 
And obviously, that’s not what’s happening right now.
“But you can’t tell me not to love her when even I myself can’t control that.” You weren’t lying when you said that this man changed a lot. It felt like this is the most mature Toji’s ever heard him talk.
 “To feel that is one thing but to act upon it is another and I don’t plan on doing that.” Satoru wondered if you’ve been arguing about this with him, probably why he’s like this. He remembered your problem with him constantly mentioning his wife in whatever you do but after that, you never really told him anything about it anymore.
He didn’t try to pry even when it felt like your mind was always somewhere else because he didn't want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation.
“Well, it’s good that I don’t have to remind you.” Toji murmured, tilting his head as he furrowed his brows. Looking away, he pulled at his collar with his finger. The man in front of him looks nothing like a threat. Yet, he can’t find it in him to let it go.
Probably because deep down, he knows that this is not a one sided problem.
“I won’t ask you to stay away from Yui. I’m a father too. I just needed to hear this all from you, Satoru.” He opened a drawer, taking out a packet of cigarettes before putting one between his lips. The fire from the lighter lit up a portion of his face, inhaling only to let out smoke from one side of his mouth. “Why?” Satoru asked, leaning back.
“I don’t know. So, I could do better I guess?” Toji chuckled, making the other man’s brow bump with each other; not with anger but with an irritating confusion.Just as he was about to ask, Toji answered his question. “We didn’t fight. There’s just nothing left to do about it. Guess we gotta put extra effort.” 
With that he stood up, signaling that he’s already over this conversation. And Satoru sat there, still in the dark with his intention. Does he have some kind of mic here that recorded what he just said? Satoru doesn’t care. 
What he said was the truth, and it would be too funny to suspect Toji of some kind of evil plan when he’s literally the one who got heated up.
“I hope to work with you better, Satoru. After all, we love the same woman.” With that, he walked to the door to leave but not before Satoru could say a word. “Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.” It came out softer than he intended to. He looked down at his hands as they played with one another; defeated.
He didn’t hear a sigh from Toji. The sound of the door closing was the only signal that he already left. Clicking his tongue, Satoru stood up before running his fingers through his hair. He wonders if it’d be right to ask you about your situation with Toji. He wonders if you also want him to adjust. 
He wonders if he’s just a nuisance in your life right now. Like how he made you feel before. 
————————————————
“She should start when she’s like four. Or five.” Toji put Yui’s bag down on the couch as they ran around him. The kids were still not tired enough to calm down after a whole day of swimming. Their cheeks are all red from the sun and you mentally noted to put aloe gel on her face before bed.
“Megumi will start next year?” You asked him, hearing a hum as his gaze followed the two kids who ran to your daughter’s room. “‘Gumi we’ll be going in a few, don’t fall asleep!” Toji called to the little boy who only stared at him from a distance before turning away. You felt a pair of hands pull you as Toji sat you on his lap.
“Did you have your own fun too?” He teased, squeezing your thigh as he kissed your cheek. Your mind went back to the other day. It has been a while since the two of you did it due to busy schedules. You admit that you felt like you and Toji are still being extra careful with a few topics but this past few days was a breather. 
“Mhm, definitely did.” You whispered to his lips, feeling his teeth bite your bottom one as he kissed you. You don’t know when it started but things started to feel a bit different between you and Toji and you don’t know if it’s because he’s starting to drop his worries for you and Satoru or if it’s because he’s just tired of thinking about it.
You were gonna talk to him regarding that but this weekend kind of assured you that it’s all going fine. As for you, you’re trying your best to adjust. You told yourself a thousand times that you had to think about Toji too and not just yourself but for some reason, you still find yourself questioning how you should do some things. 
That’s not a good sign but you thought that maybe you could just take one step at a time. Toji’s making adjustments for you and you can’t just let him do all that work. The only thing you’re fearing is if it’s gonna burn out the two of you sooner or later.
It’s not that your relationship with him is not sturdy, but it’s still young. There are still so many things that the two of you might go through. You’re afraid that all of these are just taking a toll on both of you and one blow from a different direction might just take you down immediately if it ever lands.
Toji stayed for about half an hour before calling Megumi who definitely fell asleep on Yui’s bed. Meanwhile, your little girl was sitting beside her big bear, whining about the burns on her face, begging you to call her Dada. 
“We’ll just put medicine on it, okay?” She stomped her little legs, pulling at your shirt to pick her up. “It’s because you won’t let me put sunscreen on your face properly earlier.” You clicked your tongue, letting her sob on your shoulder. “Dada…” She wiggled in your arms, a small hand holding her cheek.
“Just give Satoru a call. Or get him to come over. She probably misses him.” Toji picked his son up. The latter option shocked you a bit because you didn’t expect him to actually suggest the man he’s so uncomfortable with to come over and be around you. Even if it’s not for you, you still didn’t see it coming out of his mouth, especially after all the fights you had.
“They’ll meet in a day, anyway so it’s—” You started but he cut you off by talking to Yui. “Dada will come over, it’s okay. Stop crying.” The toddler’s cries softened to sniffles as she looked up at him. His hand patted her head, before turning to you to give you a kiss on the forehead. “She needs him right now. You know how kids are.” 
The gesture made you feel a bit sad. You’re aware that this is not about the two of you but still, you know how he is when it comes to Satoru being with you. “You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what Yui needs.” You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what you need. He wanted to tell you that as well.
He remembered asking you casually about how you were with Satoru. Of course, you found it weird and got worried. You kept saying things to comfort him to which he quickly reassured you that it wasn’t like that. 
“Of course, I did.” You told him, swirling the liquid inside the sippy cup. You wouldn’t look up at him the whole time. You placed it beside the other cup before moving to sit beside him. “We had a rough time, but it wasn’t always like that.” There was a hint of nostalgia in your voice; a mix of melancholia and fondness for the lost time.
“Why did it become like that?” He leaned on his elbow, fixing the ornaments in front of him. “Because of the rush, I guess. Bad timing.” You shrugged, drumming your fingers on the marble counter. “We just became parents. We didn’t have time to become lovers.” You chuckled half-heartedly.
“But I know I did.” So, Satoru wasn’t lying when he said you were in love. “Have you ever wondered if… if it’s just because of the responsibility that you share?” He prodded further, feeling like he was having the watered-down version of the conversation that he had with Satoru. Something he apologized to him for 2 weeks later.
“Probably at first. All of it is just for Yui. But at some point, I just found myself looking forward to days with him.” You sighed, staring blankly as you probably tried to recall more memories. You quickly looked at Toji, realizing the words that came out of your mouth. It’s not supposed to be like that. You’re not supposed to speak like that.
“Did you ever—” He began but you’re quick to cut him off, getting more and more worried about his behavior. You’ve been having open talks with each other, deciding that it might help with the crack in your relationship with him but this still makes you feel anxious. Because what if you hurt him again? What if something you say makes it worse?
“Are you alright? You keep asking unusual things.” You jokingly put your hand on his forehead, making him grab your wrist as he pulled you to him. “Hey, I was just curious. I want to do better.” He kissed the back of your neck. It’s true that he wants to do better for you. Hell, he wants to be the best for you.
But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.
“Alright, I’ll try to contact him. I doubt he’d be here, though. It’s a work day, I don’t really want to bother him.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before walking with him to the door. Megumi’s small arms were wrapped around his neck as he bid you goodbye for the day. 
You wanted to ask him if it’s really okay with him but you reminded yourself that if it’s for Yui, it doesn’t matter if it’s not okay with anyone. “Text me when you get home.” You told him after he put Megumi in his seat. “Yeah, love you.” He kissed your lips once more before getting in his car and driving away.
You watched his car disappear, rubbing your baby’s back as she started to whine again. “Alright, we’ll call him.” You walked back inside, spotting your phone on the coffee table. You kissed Yui’s cheek as you dialed Satoru’s number. It rang twice before you heard his voice from the other line.
“Hey, everything okay?” You ignored the way your heart swelled at how alert he was to your calls. You figured that he’s probably working, "Dada!" Yui called to him, kicking her little feet and making you grab them. You put the phone on speaker "What's wrong, love?" Satoru's voice was full of worry because of how his daughter cried.
"She got sunburnt. She was swimming with Megumi earlier and now it's starting to sting." You pushed her hair back as she tried to take the phone from you. "Are you busy? She keeps asking for you. I didn't want to bother you but—" Without letting you finish your sentence, you could hear the chair scrape the floor. "Don't think like that. I'm never too busy for Yui." 
"Would it be… Is it ok if I come over? I'll get ointment on the way." You could already hear the car keys and you pictured him walking out of his door and to his car. "Yeah, it's fine. Toji actually suggested that because Yui won't stop crying. Thank you." A small silence can be heard from the other end.
"I'll be there in a few, text me if you need anything else." After that, he lets you hang up the phone, waiting patiently for you say something. "Dada will be there. Stop crying now, you weren't crying earlier." You checked her face, feeling bad that she has to pay for having fun. But you think the blush that it left on her cheeks are cute.
After a little while, a knock on the door pulled you away from your phone. Even though, you already know that it's Satoru, you still peeped through the hole just to make sure. The night his mom stormed in your house and threatened fo take your child away was still vivid. You don't want Yui to see something like that again. 
"Da!" She immediately cried when she saw him, reaching for her father to take her. "Hey, why? Where's your ouchie?" You saw a couple of bags in his hand as he took the crying child. "I brought you guys something, I thought you might not have had your dinner yet." He sounded shy, taking the smallest bag.
“Oh, thank you. You should eat with us, sorry for calling so abruptly. She’s being fussy.” You smiled at him, not missing the fond sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing, it’s a win-win situation.” He jokes, tickling the little girl’s belly which caused her to erupt into laughter. 
“Let’s put this cream on your face so it doesn’t hurt, alright?” You watched the two of them sit on your couch and all of a sudden, it became the highlight of your day. How he removed his shoes when she asked him to lay down, how he listens to her almost incomprehensible rants, how he gently applied the ointment on her cheeks, producing the most beautiful giggles.
It almost felt like a normal family, resting after a long day of staying out. With her favorite show playing, you watched her look up at her father just to make sure he’s watching the same thing. And he’d go and nod, talking to her like it’s the most serious thing in the world.
“You should eat with us.” You found yourself saying as you wiped your hand. You reminded yourself to text your boyfriend as you turned away, feeling wrong for how you feel but how can you not feel that way when the scene you used to dream of just came alive in front of you? 
Maybe you’re just tired. Maybe you just wanted the comfort of your bed. Maybe you just want to not think about it, maybe it’s better to ignore these feelings because there are other things you should be feeling right now. Like wanting to see Toji and be with him. You shook your head, setting up Yui’s table. 
And there he comes, with your daughter in his arms, wearing one of the house slippers you left under the couch. “Can I borrow these?” He chuckled and you could feel the stretch on your cheeks from how small they look on him and suddenly, it’s just the three of you again. Eating under the warm kitchen light, talking about your daughter.
Like how you always wanted it to be.
——————————————————
“Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.”
Toji pursed his lips as Satoru's words reverberated in his head. He knows nothing, he thought, glancing at you from the mirror. You were busy checking Yui's bag, completely unaware of the thoughts of the man in front of you. Toji has been selfish before. But his head was clear enough to finally judge things with deep consideration to the external factors.
Any man or woman wants nothing but to work things out for their family. But sometimes it just gets too much for them. But for some, they just need time. And he doesn't know how to feel when he thinks about how you and Satoru probably just needed time to fix yourselves as individuals for the relationship to work.
Even though Megumi already understands that his mom will never be home. There are still instances where he would ask Toji about her and by that, he could tell that his son's wishing for her. Whenever you'd do something for him, he would say "Like mom?" and he don't want you to know that not even the smile on your face could ease the searing ache in his chest.
“What do you think about getting back together with Satoru?” The question already escaped his lips before he could even think. Your eyes snapped at Toji, looking at him like he just said the most obnoxious thing. You walked to him, stopping his hands to do his tie yourself. 
“Why are you suddenly asking about that now?” You counted back to the first time he was talking about you and Satoru.“Nothing. I mean, he mentioned that his mother’s never around him anymore. Isn’t she like the bane of your relationship with Satoru?” He peered down at you, curious as to how you’d react.
Toji didn’t mean to ask it so abruptly, but he knows that he has to talk about it sooner or later. He knows that the both of you are trying and your relationship shouldn’t be this hard if only adjusting comes so naturally. 
He knows that you put in a lot of effort just so he wouldn’t feel insecure and overthink. He also knows that sometimes it just shows, you’re probably just denying that to yourself. He’s also too aware of how the both of you would tread carefully around the topic of his wife. 
“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t miss her or talk about the things she does.” You told him that once but still, Toji can’t help but feel bad when those days come and he knows that he’s not giving his full attention and mind to you.
“I’m literally in a relationship with you, stop asking if I—” You tried to chuckled it off, brushing the palm of your hands on his chest to straighten the fabric but Toji caught them. “What if this isn’t working?” He sighed, squeezing your hand as if it will lessen the weight of his words.
You don’t know if you’re hurt that he probably wants to end it or if you’re hurt that there’s a hint of truth behind his words. “What are you saying?” As if suddenly coming back down to reality, Toji shook his head and pulled you close. “I think I woke up too early, come here. Sorry about that.”  He kissed your forehead but that didn’t take away your worried face.
“Toji you can’t just say that and expect me not to overthink.” You don’t know if you’ve prepared yourself enough for this possibility. It would hurt you if you’ll lose such a good man in your life. “I’m…I don’t know if I still feel comfortable, or if I’m just getting used to it Y/N. I know you try, you do it so well, baby but,” He took a deep breath, pausing.
“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.” 
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potter-imagines · 9 months
Text
Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)
Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.
Pairing: Satoru x reader
Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo
Word Count: 7k
Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.
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“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.
Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.
“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.” 
Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.
The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence. 
“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her. 
At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her. 
“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”
“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered. 
“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded. 
Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two. 
Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing. 
Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen. 
“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”
Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered. 
“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.
Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset. 
Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,
“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”
The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner. 
“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation. 
“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”
“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.  
“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now.  “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her. 
Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru. 
“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought. 
“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him. 
Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass. 
“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”
“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”
The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.
“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”
Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.
A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off. 
“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight. 
Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest. 
“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”
After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease. 
His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room. 
Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper, 
“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”
He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple. 
A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression. 
“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again. 
“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”
“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!” 
“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face. 
“Still upset? It just happened today!” 
“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one. 
“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”
“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed. 
“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more. 
A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,
“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 
When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer. 
A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange. 
His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. 
Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound. 
A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout. 
A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.
Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.
Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core, 
“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”
Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above. 
She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up. 
A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,
“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”
“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone. 
“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!” 
His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen. 
“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face. 
“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.
“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers. 
“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism. 
“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.
“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-” 
“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic. 
Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.
“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”
Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet. 
“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no.  Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched, 
“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”
Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare. 
“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly. 
Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate. 
“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed. 
“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”
“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed. 
“What’s not true?”
“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind. 
It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again. 
“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”
The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat. 
“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell. 
“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her. 
“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out. 
A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip. 
“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.” 
His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,
“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.
“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”
Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in. 
“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her. 
“You know me too well.”
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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months
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don’t touch her (mv1)
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max x reader , unnamed mclaren employee x reader
summary: max knows his feelings for you are wrong, you have a boyfriend. but all bets are off when that boyfriend gets aggressive with you
notes: this one’s angsty guys, also we’re gonna pretend that japan was later in the season just for timing purposes
warnings: physical fight, blood, a toxic relationship
He knew he shouldn’t be staring at you from across the paddock. He knew it was wrong on so many levels. You were a part of the Red Bull team, one of his coworkers. You were also dating someone from the McLaren team. Max had never wanted to hit Lando over the head as much as he did when the young Brit introduced you to your current boyfriend. But he couldn’t stop himself from searching for you in any room he went into, or at any media events or any meetings.
Max Verstappen could confidently say he was without a doubt in love with you.
He had grown attached to you quickly, being one of the only people he worked with that didn’t fawn over him just because he was good at his job. You treated him like a real person. When he was with you there was no Max Verstappen, there was only Max. You were a breath of fresh air, the calm in the storm that was his chaotic life. You were his quiet, safe space he could escape to when things became too much. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and shield you away from all that was wrong in the world, but he’d settle for calling you his friend, his best friend.
Max liked to think of himself as a good person, the type of person that just wanted to see you happy, even if it meant seeing you with someone else. He promised himself he wouldn’t act upon his feelings, at least not while you were dating anyone. He wouldn’t dare destroy your happiness just because of his heart.
Max could also admit he was petty, so childishly petty. He didn’t like seeing you hanging around the McLaren garage during race weekends, weekends where you would usually be by his side, making sure he was ready to drive. Instead he had to watch your navy blue stand out against the bright orange at McLaren. It didn’t suit you, being surrounded by papaya, Max thought.
He knew he could complain about it to Christian. He could use his power to make you come back to him, but in doing that he may end up hurting you or your job. So he sat quietly and let his annoyance fester inside him.
He could tell when things started to shift with your boyfriend. When your long hugs and visits to the McLaren garage turned into brushing shoulders and arguments in an empty walkway outside.
Max tries to ask about, tries to help make you feel better, but you shrug him off, telling him that you’ll work it out, it’s nothing but a rough patch.
He asks if you’re okay, if there’s anything he can do to help. You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders.
“There’s nothing you can do Max.”
He’s never felt so helpless in his life. He hates that he has to see your face with tear stains over it, that your smile has dimmed in the garage. That you no longer search him out for comfort.
Part of him thinks he should have a conversation with your boyfriend. He thinks he should give him a talking to about how he’s ruining someone so special. But he knows he’d probably end up throwing punches if your boyfriend ticked him off anymore than he already has.
You don’t seem to get any better as the season comes closer to an end. Max tries to help you open up to him again, asking if you have any plans over the winter break. He even invites you to join him on his trip back home to the Netherlands. He tells you that his mother and sister would love to have you with them during the holidays.
You frown, telling him that you planned on staying near Milton Keynes to do some work at the factory.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s winter break, I’m sure they can spare you for a little while.”
“I can’t take time off work just to hang out with you Max.” The words are much harsher than you mean for them to be, you can tell by the way Max takes a defensive step back.
He nods. “Right. Sorry.” Then he leaves you standing there to go to his driver’s room, or somewhere that just doesn’t have you.
Everything becomes clearer to Max at a party near the end of the season. It’s just after the Japan race, and Lando had insisted on celebrating the McLaren 2-3 as well as another tally to Max’s list of wins this season. The nightclub is filled with drivers as well as team members from each team hoping to let off some steam before the next race weekend.
Max doesn’t want to be there. He wants to go back to his hotel and sleep before he has to fly back home just to fly to Qatar a week later. But Lando and Charles keep putting new drinks in his hand, which promptly end up being left on random tables, and dragging him around to converse with everyone else that’s there.
He keeps an eye on you the whole time, watching as you wrap your arms around yourself, staring into the crowd on the dance floor. He can tell you aren’t really looking at them though, that you’re staring off into space. Your boyfriend comes up to sit on the stool next to you. He says something in your ear, to which you shake your head and leave, walking outside.
Max quickly pushes his latest drink into Charles’ hands and follows you outside.
You lean against the wall, attempting to get some fresh air after feeling a bit too claustrophobic in the club, but the heat doesn’t help as much as you hoped. You see Max as he steps outside and quickly walks to you.
“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing, because I know you, I know when you’re upset and you can’t hide it from me. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?” He asks, his words spilling out quickly.
“Max, it’s not you, it’s just-”
“Y/n! Come on, we can talk this through!” Your words are cut off by your boyfriend who looks around for you, the smile falling off his face when he spots Max standing next to you. “Are you fucking serious Y/n?” He storms over to you, and grabs your forearm, yanking you away from Max. “Always running back to Max, huh?”
You yelp when he roughly pulls you to him.
Max is quick to put himself between the two of you, pushing your boyfriend with just enough force to make him let go of you.
“Don’t touch her.” He snarls.
You already know how this is going to end. Max stares at your boyfriend with fire in his eyes. While Max isn’t quite as tall as him, he makes up for the height difference in his strength. He’s got enough muscle to knock him to the ground in seconds if he wanted to.
Anyone with half a brain would know they’re in dangerous territory, being on the receiving end of Max’s intense stare, but your boyfriend refuses to back down.
“She’s mine Verstappen. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He says quietly, taunting Max.
That’s all it takes for the first swing to fly. You think it’s Max, but your boyfriend is quick to throw up his own fists in defense.
It’s a mess of navy blue and orange as the two end up rolling on the ground, throwing punch after punch. Max ends up on top, straddling your boyfriend, lifting his fist to swing. You grab his arm and pull him off and away from the fight. You catch a glimpse of your boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend’s bloody nose and black eye.
Max huffs, pulling his arm away from you and stalks towards his car. You follow him, practically jogging to keep up. You stop when you’re standing between him and the driver door. The lamplight illuminates his face. He’s got a bruise on his cheekbone, a split lip, his hair is a disheveled mess, and his fist is coated in blood, whose you aren’t sure. He’s avoiding eye contact with you, instead looking up at the sky.
“Max, why-”
“I’m fine.” He says when he finally looks at you. “Let me drive you back to the hotel.”
The drive back is quiet. You can’t help but keep looking over at Max, the streetlights passing by spread light over his face. He pulls a plain hoodie from the back of his car, pulling the hood up over his head. He keeps his down as he walks inside, attempting to avoid any interactions with fans that have decided to hang around the hotel.
He walks you to your door, then turns to leave, stopping only when he feels your fingers thread themselves through his. You gently pull him inside your room.
“Bathroom.” You tell him, steering him towards the small bathroom.
He sighs, knowing that there’s no use in trying to argue with you. He tugs the hoodie off and tosses it on your bed. He lifts himself up to sit on the counter of the bathroom, just next to the sink. There’s barely any room between where his legs hang off the counter and the wall opposite the sink, but you manage to squeeze between them with a small towel in your hand.
You run the towel under warm water, then bring it to his face, softly dabbing at his lip. He flinches slightly, pulling away. You apologize softly, then continue to wipe the blood from his lip.
You do the same with his hand, gently holding it in your hand and wiping away the red. It turns out to be mostly blood from your ex boyfriend, his skin only slightly bruised from the impact.
“You shouldn’t have hit him. You could’ve broken your hand. You wouldn’t have been able to drive.” You scold him quietly.
He gives you an incredulous look. “I should’ve done a lot more than hit him.”
You don’t answer, continuing to absentmindedly wipe at his hand. The blood is long gone, but he can tell you’re too lost in thought to notice.
He lifts your head up to look at him with his other hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.
You shake your head. “You heard him. Always running back to you?”
“I like it when you come to me.” He shifts slightly. “I mean, I like feeling like you can come to me for, well for anything really. You should’ve felt like you could’ve talked to me.” He drops his head down now.
You can tell he’s starting to close in on himself, that he feels somehow at fault for this. It’s your turn to lift his head up this time. His eyes are welled up with unshed tears. He tries to blink his tears away putting on a brave face for you.
You gently swipe your thumb under his eyes, then hold his cheeks in your hands.
“This is not your fault Max. It’s my fault. I let it get bad, I should’ve ended it a long time ago. I just have a talent for being self destructive I guess.” You let out an unconvincing laugh.
He leans into your touch, letting his eyes flutter closed.
After a few minutes you begrudgingly pull your hands away from Max. He immediately misses the warmth on his face.
“You should put some ice over your bruise.” You tell him.
You step back, giving him space to hop down from the counter. He stands over you, but his height is anything but daunting. He looks down at his now clean but bruised knuckles then back up at you.
“Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you.” You tell him.
He clears his throat then shuffles around you, back into the main part of your room. “I should probably go.”
You follow him, itching to give him a reason to stay.
He grabs his hoodie from your bed and walks back to your door. He opens it, ready to step through when you call his name. He turns back to see you standing near the door as well, shifting your weight on your feet.
You take a deep breath then throw caution to the wind. You take a quick two steps to him and press your lips to his cheek.
Max freezes, only regaining a semblance of composure when you pull away from him.
“Thank you Max. Really.” You smile.
He gives you a sheepish smile and a nod, his cheeks colored with a light pink blush.
“Goodnight Y/n.”
“Goodnight Max.”
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motelofmermaids · 4 months
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omg we need a finnick x shy reader plz😭🙏🙏
this pulled me out of my slight writer’s block, bless you. ❤︎︎ i want to add that this is definitely adding onto this request, and i kind of built a story from it. i wanted to keep it canon to the hunger games, and i didn’t make reader too shy to where it’s like… c’mon. nonetheless, i really hope y’all enjoy!!
finnick odair loves how shy you are.
❥ when you first, for a lack of better terms, met finnick odair, it was a year before the third quarter quell. he was free, as far as you knew, sun kissing his slight honey-tanned skin, illuminating his sea-green eyes. he, without a doubt, had your breath taken. it would have been far from the truth if finnick said your sole attention on him at the bustling farmer’s market made him uncomfortable. for the first time, he truly thrived under another’s attention. finnick had noticed your presence throughout the market, shy glances as you listened to the shop owner’s attempts to persuade you. he gave you a smile, a wave—and you, little ol’ you, immediately turned around and walked anywhere your shaking legs took you. finnick wondered if he did something wrong.
𓆝 the second time you saw finnick odair was at the beach, sitting in the water as mags listened to his incoherent rant. you noticed his body language, his hands talking with him. you had gotten in an argument with your parents beforehand about the upcoming hunger games, they said you could volunteer, give your family honor. you could’ve been useful—to the district, to the capitol—but you ‘wasted’ your life on making jewelry for the local children and shop owners. sure, they were beautiful, ‘but not good enough.’ as small sob threatened to leave your lips, holding onto the bracelets you had made days before—for your parents. walking past mags and the capitol’s darling, mags pulled finnick out of his rant, pointing to you. finnick wasted no time catching up to you.
❥ months have passed leading up to the quarter quell, in which you and and finnick had become… friends. it took him a while to get almost anything out of you, being as quiet as you are. it was worth it, though, the way you slowly came out of your shell around him—when you gave him such sweet smiles, finally not covering your mouth with your hand when you’d laugh. you still got warm on the cheeks, still couldn’t look into his eyes for too long, especially since finnick was a natural tease. he always leaned in a little too close, he would bite his lip when listening to you, sometimes he’d move a strand of hair away from your face. it was all too much for you, and finnick knew that.
𓇽 when snow announced that previous victors would be reaped for the 75th hunger games, you immediately ran to finnick’s. you couldn’t even think, instantly pulling him into a hug when he answered. you held him the entire night, mags right beside the two of you. “finnick,” you cleared your throat, tears threatening to fall, “i want you to have this…” you took off your necklace, hesitating to hold his hand as you gave him the beautiful seashell pendant. he leaned up, his other hand reaching to gently brush your cheek. “i…,” you stuttered over your breath, looking away from him, “i want you to have a piece of home with you.” mags observed the both of you, giving an all-knowing smile.
❥ when finnick odair finally came home to a liberated district 4, a liberated and free panem, he only thought of you. as soon as finnick found you, eyes red and scanning the crowds of people, he ran without any regard. gently cupping your face, he looked down at your wide eyes, your shaking hands resting on his arms. he refused to waste another moment, not when he almost died—when you could’ve died. he leaned down, his breath gently grazed against your lips, and you heart might have given out from how fast it was beating. you closed your eyes, a small unspoken consent for him, and he kissed you. he kissed you until you realized that he was your source of oxygen, that he was all you had. he slowly pulled away, a smile adorning his lips and you couldn’t bear it—your eyes fluttering shut in pure timidity.
𓆝 finnick wanted you to move in, thought you’d love it more because it was near the water. he told you about all the nights you could have together, walking on the beach and stargazing. you agreed, of course you would, with the one condition of getting a cat. he didn’t hesitate, and you and him were comfortable together. it wasn’t a new home, it was filled with finnick’s childhood, but there was a novelty in the air—it felt like a new beginning… it was a new beginning. you had a family now; finnick made sure to remind you of that everyday. you and him—and your cat— were normal, you didn’t need to lower your voices to appease the oppressive capitol.
❥ you didn’t need to lower your voice when finnick had you underneath him. it was slow, sweet, and spiritual. he promised you from the start that he understood you, that you could take your time. he didn’t want you to rush just to please him. and when you nervously told him that you were ready, he made sure it was the best experience you could ever imagine. he needed you to know just how much he loved you, and that you didn’t need to be quiet with him—that you didn’t have to put on a mask. you were simply you, in your rawest form. and he craved every second of it.
𓇽 when finnick had mentioned marriage, you, without a moment to process, spluttered. he knitted his brows together, a small frown on his face as he asked if it was too soon, too straightforward. you panicked out, “no—no… no, not at all.” but you were hot, hand on your cheek to cool yourself down because, dear lord, you felt like you were burning. finnick couldn’t help his laughs, a cocky grin accentuating his sweet dimples. he cherished you, and you were aware of it; his love for you would endure as long as he lived. when you put your head in your hands, nodding as you muttered a small ‘yes.’ he swore you were sent from the heavens—that you were meant for him.
finnick odair who loves you for you.
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minhosimthings · 4 months
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Kitty Love || 18+
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Synopsis: Minho fucking a baby into you, in throws of anger and jealousy
Pairings: husband!Minho × wife!fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, angry sex, jealous sex, sex with plot, this is basically porn, breeding kink, p in v, Minho wants to fuck a baby into reader, unprotected sex (highly not recommended for you), volume control, kinda fluffy at the end
A/N: I need Minho to fuck a baby into me right now so... Have this instead
"Do you know how many people would have liked this dress on their bedroom floor tonight, kitten?"
"Minho I wasn't-"
"Shut it."
And yet again, yet another 'important buisness party' that Minho had to attend, completely forgetting your anniversary. And of course, as his trophy-good-for-nothing wife, you had to tag along, in a dress which was 'modest' enough to not attract all the other pig headed men at that event.
A married woman wearing a high slit dress, off shoulder dress? Certainly not! Scandalous, even.
And for Minho, it was more than just anger that flee through him as his eyes lay on all the disgusting men staring at your thighs all evening.
"Minho would you stop screaming and listen to me for once?" You cried, slamming your hand on the table. You were done with him, forgetting a day which was special and screaming at you for doing absolutely nothing.
His composure is sickly, every breath he takes - laboured and drawn out as he pushes himself closer to you, like he's trying to meld himself against you - seems to taunt you.
"we can have a 'fucking conversation' or we can start fucking," he grunts, rolling his hips into you as he watches your eyes roll in frustration, though not enough to mask the tell tale signs of arousal evident on you - a sheen of sweat glistening on your collarbone and highlighting your lust blown pupils.
"that's my girl," he grins, pushing your panties to the side and rubbing his digits through your slick, circling his index finger around your hole before plunging two in to prep you for his dick.
Your breath hitches as he begins to finger you, back arching off the bed as you try your best to remain impassive, unwilling to give him the emotional satisfaction of 'winning' the argument just because you let him get his dick wet.
With an arrogant smirk still residing on his features, he pulls his dick out - longer than it was thick, his tip cut and a blushing pink - teasing you with the head by slapping it on your soaked folds before slipping it in and groaning.
A stifled whine escapes through your sealed lips, the sound muted and restrained but desperate enough for coryo to hear and throb inside of you as he continues to sheath himself further.
"know it feels good kitten, y'dont have to hide," he taunts, patronising and knowing without a doubt that you're still mad and as a consequence refuse to explicitly vocalise any pleasure.
His thrusts start deep and slow, hitting that spot inside of you each time to chip away any composure you thought you had, your own forearm hiding tears of pleasure brimming at your waterline for how deep he was going, an abundance of emotions - alongside the sharp contrast of anger and pleasure - leave you feeling feverish and flush with confusion as he stimulates your most sensitive erogenous zones.
He coos at your dazed expression, your face ruddy and warm as he successfully fucks the anger out of you, quelling any urges you may have to shout by leaving you stupid and vulnerable due to the warmth of him inside you coupled with his measured, languid strokes.
Your hands are trembling. Your legs are shaking. Your chest is heaving. And the nickname sits on the tip of your tongue, yet you swallow it down.
"You really wanted to test me huh kitten?" Minho grunts, "Wearing that cute little slut outfit."
"Who said I was wearing it for you?"
“God, you’re such a fucking brat,” he sneers, tightening his hold on your hips before resuming his unrelenting pace. Thick cock stretching you open like it's the first time. “Fine. You want me to be jealous? Want me to say that I won’t share you with all those other men?”
And even if he’s mocking you, the thought has your pussy clenching. 
“Maybe I don’t want to share you,” he continues, although a bit softer. As though speaking to himself. “Maybe I won’t. Won’t fucking share you with any of them.”
“Gonna fuck my cum so deep into this pussy…you have my baby,” he exhales. “So then they know who you really belong to, yeah?”
“Is that what you want?” Another slap to your clit. “Wanna have my babies, kitten? Wanna carry me around? Wanna know that you own a part of me?”
You can’t think straight. Can’t fathom what he’s really saying to you, but it’s everything. Delicious and dirty and somehow, exactly what you need.
“Yeah? Oh, I know,” he nearly coos, and you feel his cock twitch. He’s close. “Then I’ll let you. Let you have my babies. Get you so pretty and pregnant. Make you mine—”
“Minho!,” you gasp before you’re cumming harder than you think you have in weeks. Flinging your arms around his neck in order to keep him as close as possible.
He’s beautiful. And he feels like heaven. It’s all you can truly comprehend as the warmth spreads through your cunt and makes a home in your pussy. As he keeps it there even long after you’ve both come back down.
"Still mad at me?" Minho mumbles into your ear, kissing the top of your forehead as both of you lay, sweating and euphonious on the bed.
You say nothing and grunt in response, cuddling closer to him, to catch all of his warmth.
"Don't worry kitten." Minho chuckles, "We'll have our anniversary tomorrow." You doze off to sleep under the tone of his voice, "A proper anniversary."
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kierahn · 5 months
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yandere ! ceo x stripper ! male reader for @rin-sama-writes.
[ nsfw, minors dni. ]
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hi, i read your ideas in my inbox and i just had to make a quick drabble about it :] i’ll be making a full one some other time though since i still have 3 prompts to work on. (also, i accidentally published your previous ask before i got to complete the draft, so it got deleted. i’m so sorry,, 🥹🙏)
this is more of a power bottom reader, but i'll do a couple of dom readers soon. this just is a small warm up lol.
× cero had a long and tiring day of filling up paper works, organizing documents, attending several meetings, and the likes; usual CEO stuff. so to reward himself for a job well done, he decides to ask his driver to drive him to your workplace after work. he deserved a treat or two from you.
× the moment he stepped foot inside the nightclub you worked at, it was like a message had been sent to all the present employees. everyone scurried away the moment cero blessed the room with his presence, rushing to prepare the v.i.p room that he had built specifically for you and him to have some fun alone; away from prying eyes. no one deserved to see you in that blissed out state but him.
× the performers that you worked with on stage stopped to inform you that a client had requested your presence in the v.i.p room.
× it was him again, the man whose name you learned was cero, dressed in designer clothes from head to toe and a branded watch around his wrist. everything about him screamed rich which made him an immediate target for you. it was so easy to have guys like him all hooked up on you like some moth drawn to a flame.
× usually, cero would tease you or whistle upon seeing you enter the room, but he was strangely silent tonight.
× you approach the leather couch where he was seated and noticed how his usually neat appearance seem to be absent today. his hair was slightly a mess and his tie was crooked. he looked tired overall.
× normally, you wouldn’t care much about his wellbeing. however, you couldn’t help but notice how cero didn’t seem to be performing his best today. his thrusts were sloppy and he wasn’t hitting the right spots for you to feel good. even prepping you was a major fail ! you ended up scratching his back when he tried to put himself inside, expressing your discomfort.
× with a sigh, you stop him. “i think i’ve seen enough,” you say exasperatingly, detaching yourself from him. his grip on your waist seem to tighten, a conflicted look on the ceo’s face. he almost looked like a kicked puppy.
× he tried to protest, but you stop him by holding up a finger to his lips. “look, sir, i can see that you’re tired.” you trail your hand to cup cero’s cheek and glaze your thumb under his eye. you stayed seated on his lap, cero’s tired eyes gazing up at your own.
× “i’m fine. i’ll manage, i just need you right now.” cero stubbornly protested, a slight rasp in his voice. his hands trailed down your waist to resume what you two were previously engaged in, but you grab his wrists gently. “say.. how about i do all the work tonight ?” you insisted.
× it wasn’t like you were worried about him, you simply couldn’t handle any more of his sloppy attempt to pleasure you.
× you left no room for an argument. you shut down his protests about how he possibly couldn’t let you do that, or how he had been doing just fine doing the work. maybe in a normal night he would be good at it, but not tonight.
× you got off his lap and positioned yourself in between his thighs. no doubt, he was still rock hard and raging due to your interruption, but cero still kept trying to insist that you didn’t have to.
× when he tried to grab a fistful of your hair to stop you, you grab his wrist first, sending him a look of warning. he really needed to keep his hands to himself.
× just as the thought crossed your mind, your gaze wandered over to his crooked tie. ‘that could work.’
× without explaining any further, your hands worked to undo cero’s tie. he didn’t seem to have any violent reaction towards it, so you assumed that he was fine with you doing so.
x as soon as you finished removing his tie, you held his wrist together and tightly tied them up together with his expensive tie, much to his surprise.
x “for now, i’ll do all the touching.” you say with an edge to your tone, meaning that what you said was absolute. “if you try to touch me even once, you’ll have to forget about getting what you want.”
× cero furrowed his brows at your words. were you ordering him around ?
× but before he could express a single word of protest, a jolt of his thigh caught him off guard. he bit his lower lip to suppress the lewd sounds that threatened to escape his lips.
× your tongue wrapped around his tip sent him into overdrive. he immediately hardened inside your mouth, a small groan escaping his lips.
× “wai..t, y/n– ngh!” his muscles tensed when you started to move. holy shit. it was as if all his stress melted away.
× it was a foreign feeling for cero to feel so stripped of his control over his own release. it was all in your hands now.. or well, mouth.
x as soon as you got a hold of his whole length in your mouth and you assured that there would be no gag reflex holding you back, that was when you went all in. cero’s ragged breathing and low moans filled the spacious room, along with the sound of your muffled groans.
x it took him a lot of willpower to hold back from forcing you down on his cock and hitting the back of your throat, but he knew that he couldn’t touch you. damned tie.
x cero threw his head back, cold sweat dripping from his forehead as his fingers twitched and itched to lay a hand on you. a quiet whimper escaped from the ceo’s lips when you slowed down to tease him a little.
x when you looked up at him, you were met with cero’s eyes that held a hint of pleading. a plead for relief perhaps. it was quite a new sight, but not an unwelcome one. you were so used to seeing him act so prideful about making you feel good, seeing him in this state wasn’t so bad.
x a slight chuckle. the vibration from your mouth was, surprisingly, enough to make the ceo finish inside your mouth. you slowly pull out, his load staining the inside of your mouth and your tongue white.
x who knew he was this sensitive. you avert your gaze to study cero’s aftermath. his hair clung to his skin that glistened with sweat, eyes clouded with bliss, and he panted heavily like some dog in heat.
x you couldn’t help but smile in mischief at the realization that you could put a powerful man like him in such a state.
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wordsinhaled · 9 months
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my ‘crowley loves aziraphale’ post needs a companion because there needs to be absolutely no doubt that aziraphale is ABSOLUTELY as gone on crowley so…
here i am just thinking about aziraphale’s “smitten, i believe…you’re being silly 🥰” and “why don’t you wait inside? you like waiting inside” (aziraphale knows what crowley likes, what makes him happy!). it’s aziraphale telling crowley he gets plenty of use out of the[ir] bookshop and it’s aziraphale making sure crowley feels welcome to come in whenever he likes and that it’s crowley’s as much as his to the point where crowley just feels comfortable making hot chocolate there
it’s the way he touches crowley so easily (hand on the shoulder in the s2 finale, arm around the waist in the graveyard support, hand on the chest and sliding down, the way aziraphale clasps crowley’s hand in both of his with such enthusiasm in 1941 when it could’ve been a prim handshake, the way their hands almost curl together when they’re dancing at the ball…)
(and that last one makes me unwell, because if their ball had been during the actual regency they would both have been wearing gloves… but at aziraphale’s ball, their hands can touch without any layer between, and he even seizes crowley by the hand to pull him onto the dance floor like he’s waited his entire life to do it)
thinking about the way aziraphale has always looked at crowley from the very beginning, soft, soft, so impossibly, unbearably soft. the way he darts little glances at him whenever he can, like he’s indulging himself in looking
thinking of the way he takes obvious pleasure in introducing crowley to people and saying they go back a long time. thinking of how when gabriel spoke about one person making everything alright aziraphale immediately thought of crowley
thinking about how we’ve always seen them dine or drink in public places but then in 1941 they’re having a private candlelit dinner, just the two of them
thinking of the way aziraphale looks at crowley at the end of the season - as crowley’s putting his glasses back on for the final time - in this earnest, intent, searching way. even in the midst of this argument he’s thinking why are you closing yourself off from me? you don’t do that anymore, we’re not like that anymore. it’s like he’s trying to read crowley’s features, like everything will fall into place if they just look at each other properly
thinking of how aziraphale touches his own lips after the kiss like he can press the memory of crowley’s mouth into them to keep forever
in short… aziraphale loves crowley so much it’s devastating
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meangirls-imagines · 1 month
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Hi. A request here (ignore it it's breaking any of your rules).
I was thinking of Regina George being with masc fem!reader that is actually a softie. I like the idea of a relationship with the dynamic of a mean girlboss and a soft nerdy type, especially if Regina is significantly shorter than the reader.
Imagine the shorter Regina pinning reader against a wall. Or Regina calling reader her 'puppy' because of how she always follows her around the school like a lost puppy or how she lets Regina tell her around without complaints.
Possessive power bottom Regina x Service top Reader (with reader managing to get on Regina's nerves by talking back) 👀
Fire and Ice
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Description: For as long as anyone can remember, it had always been Regina and Reader. The complete opposite from each other, it worked perfectly. But, what were the school's power couple like behind closed doors?
WARNINGS: smut, fluff, slight dom/sub dynamics, reader being a little shit
Y/N Y/L/N and Regina George.
Best friends to lovers.
The couple had been deemed North Shore's power couple before they even stepped foot in the hallway. The two had gotten together in sixth grade, proudly open ever since.
As they grew up, Y/N grew into more of a masculine person. She loved sports, hockey specifically, baggy clothes, she cut her hair shorter, got more buff. She was a completely different person now than she was in sixth grade.
Regina, on the other hand, hadn't changed a bit. She was still obsessed with the color pink, designer brands, makeup. Still as feminine as ever.
She always made an exception for Y/N, some days opting to wear the girl's hockey sweatshirts (that were too big on her), a custom made pink jersey with Y/N's last name on it. Everyone knew the two were together.
The question that wouldn't leave anyone's minds:
Who was the top?
The students of North Shore were extremely curious. Most of them assumed it was Regina. But, there was that small percentage of people that thought Y/N was the top.
That small percentage was going strictly off of physical attributes. Y/N was more masculine, she was taller, she didn't take shit from her girlfriend. She had to be the top.
The 90% that believed Regina was the top had right to do so. Y/N followed her girlfriend around school as if she was a lost puppy. It was cute, how much Regina had Y/N wrapped around her finger.
The two had the same class schedule, so they always sat together (more like Regina sat on Y/N's lap), they always went to lunch together, walked the halls together. Regina was always watching Y/N at hockey practice and always at her games.
There was also that time Regina and Y/N got into a mini argument in the hall that one day.
Regina was on a mission.
She had heard from Gretchen who heard from Karen who heard from Taylor who heard from Josh that some girl was throwing herself all over Y/N and her girlfriend wasn't trying to stop it.
She spotted Y/N next to her teammate Mark's locker, the two no doubt talking about the upcoming tournament they were going to play in.
The blonde had turned Y/N by her shoulder and fixed her with a glare. "What the fuck, Y/N?" Y/N looked at her girlfriend confused. "What do you mean, Regina?" The blonde glared harder. "You're gonna tell me you don't recall the slut that was throwing herself over you in your last class?"
Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, how did you even find out about that? Nothing major happened." The blonde got an angry look on her face and pinned Y/n against the locker, glaring at the taller girl.
Y/N just smirked, keeping a mental note for later, letting Regina have her moment. The blonde looked up at her girlfriend. "You better not let anyone touch what's mine. You got that?" They had gained an audience, everyone watching in anticipation for Y/N's next move.
The girl just smirked and allowed Regina to claim her publicly before the blonde stormed off, clearing a path in the hall like the Red Sea.
Regina got a text 15 minutes later from Y/N.
Y/N❤️: I let you have your moment in the hall. But when we get home later, you're not leaving that bed.
Regina's heart raced in anticipation.
"Fuck, Y/N."
"Take it, Regina."
The blonde was on the verge of her third orgasm. When they got home that day, Y/N had decided to show Regina that she was the only girl for her. Her solution? Making Regina feel good.
She had made her cum twice with just her fingers and mouth and was on the verge of making her cum for a third time with her strap. Regina's brain had been turned into mush as all she could focus on was Y/N.
"Fuck, Regina. You take me so well. Can't believe you thought I'd entertain the thought of another girl taking me from you."
Regina couldn't speak. Her senses were overwhelmed with Y/N. The girl was making her feel things that only she could make her feel.
"I'm all yours, Regina. Forever. I don't want anyone else. But, there's one thing I do want. And that's for you to cum on my cock." She reached a hand down in-between Regina's legs and began to rub the bundle of nerves that rested there.
The blonde felt her eyes roll back. Y/N's cock was hitting all of the right places. She felt her climax rapidly approaching as Y/N pounded her.
"Cum for me, Regina. You can do it." Regina felt her entire body tense as she came around Y/N's cock. The girl continued to slowly thrust, allowing Regina to ride through it. The blonde shook from the aftershocks of her climax and the feeling of Y/N's slow thrusts.
Y/N was peppering her face with soft kisses as she came down. "You looked so pretty, Regina. So beautiful. Wanna make you cum again, pretty girl."
Regina gushed around Y/N's cock. With the way her girlfriend was talking to her, she would let her make her cum as much as she wanted, but Regina's body had limits.
Y/N continued the soft kisses. "Will you let me make you cum one more time, sweet angel? Just one more. Then we'll be done. Please." The blonde nodded, pulling Y/N into a more heated kiss. Y/N's thrusts slowly sped up as the blonde moaned into her mouth.
Regina was officially fucked out.
Y/N smirked and sped up her thrusts. "God, Regina, I can't believe you thought I'd go after someone else. Not when you take me so fucking well. Only want you. Only want your pussy." Regina felt heat wash over her body at Y/N's words.
"'M gonna cum. Y/N, please." The blonde's words slurred together as Y/N's cock began to hammer in and out of her. Y/N smirked and began to rub Regina's clit again. "Cum for me, baby. Come on, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock."
Regina saw white as the pleasure bubble burst. Her whole body felt like it was ascending to another dimension as Y/N whispered sweet nothings to her as she came down.
Y/N pulled out and went into Regina's bathroom to grab a wet cloth. She came back and gently cleaned between her legs, whispering praise at Regina's whimpers. She threw the towel to the side, making the blonde drink some water before pulling her into her arms.
"I'm yours, Regina. Forever. No one compares to you, baby girl." Regina sleepily smiled at the girl's words and drifted off.
The next day, when the two walked into the school, everyone's question was answered. Regina walked limped while wearing the pink hockey jersey as Y/N walked next to her, a huge smirk on her face.
That 10% of the school that had guessed Y/N would never let anyone else live it down.
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mariespen · 3 months
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The Love in Pain ☾ ゚ 。⋆
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jj maybank x fem!reader - hurt/comfort ✩°。 summary: the one and only time JJ wasn't there. warnings: mild description of nausea, description of injury, hurt/comfort, mild swearing
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
Your legs intertwined with JJ’s as you relaxed onto his body. The two of you sat together at the chateau, half-listening to what Pope and John B were rambling about. You felt JJ’s soft touch absentmindedly drawing shapes into your thigh while your fingers danced across his own. 
“It belonged to one of Denmark Tanny’s close friends, maybe it’ll connect the dots.” Pope said, looking around the room at you, JJ, John B, Kiara, and Sarah.
“It’s far fetched, Pope.” John B replied.
You perked up at the spark of an argument, starting to listen in more to what they were saying. JJ looked at you, confused, until he listened in too and made the same connection that you did.
“It’s not!” Pope protested, opening his mouth to start reasoning again before John B cut him off.
“It’s an old abandoned house, man. There’s been nothing there for years.” He sighed, still feeling let down from their previously failed attempts to find out more about the legendary gold.
You sat up, squirming out of JJ’s hold on you to listen in, hearing Pope slowly convince John B. Your first reaction was the urge to go with them. JJ hasn’t let you go on any of the adventures yet, but you were ready to fight him on it.
“I’ll go.” You announced and JJ immediately sat up after you, looking at you with immediate denial. 
Pope’s eyes shot up and the rest of the pogues looked at you, waiting for JJ to say something. JJ met your eyes, looking at you like he was looking at a crazy person.
“No, we already talked about this.” He said, grabbing your cheeks with his hand and pinching them softly, turning your face to meet his eyes when he sensed that you weren’t listening, “Baby, look at me. Absolutely not.” 
“Jayj-“ you started trying to give him the most innocent look you could muster up.
“No! Completely not okay.” He repeated, letting you go and sitting back on the couch, arms crossed at his chest.
“C’mon dude.. if she wants to go..” John B said, smiling at you.
“Really not helping my case here, man.” JJ said, rolling his eyes and pulling you back down to his chest, holding you close before you sprung back up.
“JJ come on! I’ll stay out of your way I promise!” You protested, looking at him like your life depended on this.
“Absolutely not,” He said, shifting to pick you off of his lap and standing up, “You’re damned if you think I’m bringing my girl into this.” He finished, walking off.
“He’s happy tonight.” Kiara scoffed, crossing her legs and giving you an apologetic smile, “If it helps, he’s the only one who doesn’t want you to go with.” She said, shrugging it off.
But you clung to it, rolling your eyes and laying back down on the couch, feeling lonely without JJ. While they kept talking, you got up, going to find out just how pissed off your boyfriend really was. You found him in the kitchen, a beer in hand while he zoned out at the wall.
“JJ.” You said, making yourself known and trying to stifle a smile when his eyes lit up at your presence.
“Hi, ma.” He said, setting his beer down and starting towards you with a slim smile.
“C’mon, baby.” You said, meeting him in the middle of the kitchen and draping your arms around his shoulders.
He looked at you with doubt in his eyes, his hands finding your hips as he let his head drop to the crook of your neck. The two of you stayed like that for a while, taking in each other's presence. Eventually he pulled away, his body towering over yours as he kissed you gently, savoring the taste of your chapstick.
“It’s dangerous, I won’t let you get hurt.” He said, sticking to his decision on the outside but slowly being worn down by each second.
You knew how to get what you wanted.
“I’ll stay right by your side, yeah? You can protect me, Jay.” You said quietly into his ear, softly tracing his face with your fingers.
He sighed, letting his head fall to your shoulder as he thought about it. You kissed his hair gently and let him hold you for a while until he emerged again, looking at you with a defeated face. You smiled innocently at him, hope rising in your chest.
“You can’t get hurt, you have to stay with me.” He said and you nodded eagerly, kissing him and smiling with excitement.
“Yes, yes of course. I’ll stay right by you. Thank you!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him again as you felt him ease up at your excitement.
You walked proudly back out to the rest of the group, dragging JJ behind you as he looked at everyone like he just lost the fight of his life. They all looked back at you, mostly out of amazement that you won over JJ (again). You tried to listen for the remainder of the night, trying not to fall asleep in JJ’s arms as John B and Pope attempted to figure out a plan. He kissed the top of your head, squeezing your hand to reassure you, but mostly to reassure himself.
The next morning you were woken up by JJ making every attempt to be quiet. You opened your eyes, seeing him frozen in his last position, trying not to wake you up.
“Sorry, pretty girl.” He mumbled, a little disappointed that his plan to sneak off and leave you in the safety of the house had failed.
“Jayj..” You groaned, getting up and dressed in the clothes Kiara had let you borrow. 
You put them on, a fairly basic outfit with nothing insufferably tight. The shirts and pants were stained with dirt, like most of their clothes were. You got dressed, the fitting purple t-shirt and jean shorts complimenting your body in an odd way. JJ sat at the edge of the bed in his normal sleeveless tee with cargo shorts. He smiled at you as you walked over to him, straddling his lap and kissing him softly.
“So pretty, m’lady.” He said with a joking grin, standing up and spinning you around.
You headed out, meeting up with the rest of the group in The Twinkie. The drive was rocky and JJ kept a death grip on you, checking to make sure you didn’t want to turn back at least every five seconds.
“Dude, she’s fine.” Kiara said, rolling her eyes when he asked you if you ‘were completely sure’ for the 14th time.
“Didn’t know it was a crime to care.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes and looking away, trying his hardest to seem unbothered.
The six of you eventually got to the site of the old and abandoned house. The walls looked like they were rotting off of the structure and the house itself seemed to be at a permanent tilt. “Jesus..” Sarah sighed, letting John B help her out as JJ held your hand tight, following them. Pope and Kiara came out last, surveying the area with the four of you.
“Not looking too promising.” John B said and Pope sighed, shaking his head and walking forward.
The front door was hidden behind thickets of overgrown plants, but once Pope fought through the guarding vines, the door popped open easily. Everyone began to walk in, wielding a flashlight and the occasional knife. JJ pulled you aside before you could even step foot in the house, looking incredibly nervous.
“You have to tell me when you want to go, m’kay? Stay next to me at all times.” You nodded, smiling and kissing his cheek.
“I got it, JJ.”
You walked into the house behind JJ. He held your hand so tightly that you could almost feel yourself losing circulation. You weren’t in any place to complain, though, so you kept walking next to him.
The house was old and it smelled moldy and wet. You could’ve sworn you felt water droplets on your back at least five times. The walls were clearly rotting and you couldn’t look at them without accumulating a feeling of dread. Slowly, you were regretting your decision. That was, until, Pope spoke up.
“I found something!” He yelled from the opposite direction as you and JJ. You started to turn back with excitement before JJ squeezed your hand tighter and pulled you behind him once again. 
JJ led you back through the hallway, obviously a little skeptical as to how Pope’s plan was going to play out.
“Hey uh.. Pope, buddy.. what the fuck is this place?” JJ asked as the two of you stumbled across a dark hole with steep stairs leading down to another floor. Pope’s voice echoed from below, along with a few comments from John B and Sarah. 
“Come on, man. Be brave for your girl.” John B teased and JJ scrunched his face in frustration.
“Whatever, dude.” JJ said, starting down the steep steps first, helping you down every chance that he could. 
The basement smelled even worse than the first story. You nearly puked the moment that the scent of something rotten hit your nose. It took you aback and you stumbled a bit before JJ caught you, keeping you up with one of his big hands on the small of your back.
“JJ.. I need to sit down.” You said, the nausea returning as you inhaled again. 
You found a pile of old hay bales in the corner of the room, not far from where Pope and Kiara were trying to figure out the map, and took a seat. JJ started to sit down next to you, but Pope called him over for his flashlight. JJ got up, looking back at you quickly before going to Pope with hesitant steps. 
The hay bales didn’t make your sickness any better, and you held your head in your hands, regretting this already. After a bit of listening to them talk, you could’ve sworn that the floor was sinking. Hoping it was simply your stomach getting to your head, you decided to brush it off. However, the sinking feeling persisted and eventually you felt significantly lower than before. You went to move off of the hay bales and to ask JJ to take you back to the van, but you heard a deep crack below you.
The sinking feeling became all too real as you felt yourself plummeting down, the hay bales dropping much faster and leaving you free-falling. You felt minute after minute pass as you fell, your sense of time crumbling with the rise of your fear. In all reality, the fall lasted just around 5 seconds. Your ears rang as you crashed against the broken pounds of hay and hard concrete floor, your head pounding as you laid back, unable to move as hay scattered your body.
You didn’t hear JJ yelling your name or the creaking of the old ladder that John B set up to try and save you. Eventually, you didn’t see the light of your own flashlight anymore or the hay beyond you. Your fingertips started to go numb and you felt frigid with cold until you eventually saw black.
On the surface, JJ watched as you fell with utter horror. He ran to you as the floor gave out, watching you plummet down into an old secret storage room. He yelled and screamed for you, deciding to try and jump down but immediately being stopped by a very panicked John B, eventually getting a ladder and rushing down it. His tears spilled over your body as you flicked in and out of consciousness. He tried to keep himself together, attempting to talk you through it.
“C’mon pretty girl.. let’s get you safe and sound, yeah?” He whispered, wiping his own tears as John B and Pope helped him lift you from the spot you fell at.
You didn’t fully come to yourself until you felt JJ’s arms holding you to his chest like a child as he panicked and brought you back to the Twinkie. 
“Jayj?” You whispered, holding your face in your hands as he sat you on one of the seats, scrambling for anything that could resemble a first aid kit.
“Shh.. shh baby. M’here, JJ’s gonna keep you safe.” He rambled, trying not to look at your injuries. 
“Baby..” You said, voice breaking as the pain hit you.
He looked at you after grabbing a half empty bottle of a wound disinfectant, a slightly stained cloth, and a few bandages. You became more afraid when his gaze lingered on your face as his eyes welled with tears and he winced from simply seeing you in such pain.
“It’s okay, princess. S’okay.” He mumbled, trying to keep his hand still as he poured water on the cloth and padded away some blood from the smaller scratches.
“It hurts, JJ!” You cried out, tears burning the cuts on your face.
“I know princess, I know.” JJ replied, looking up at you and carefully picking you up to set you on the floor of the van instead, becoming level with you, “I got you.” He whispered into you before setting you in his lap.
His cautious touches lingered on your sensitive skin as you relaxed into him, trying to distract yourself from the pain of your own tears. You could feel his short breaths and soft sniffs from above you.
“Scared me, pretty lady. Scared me so bad.” He admitted, holding you a little tighter, grasping onto your scarred body like he wouldn’t ever be able to hold it again.
“S’okay..” You whispered to him, kissing the side of his head.
He gave you a sad smile before letting you relax into the base of a seat, cleaning and bandaging the injuries that he could.
“I love you, JJ” You said, holding his hand for comfort.
“I love you too, princess.” He said, kissing your cheek and brushing hair out of your face.
After a little bit, the rest of the group emerged from the house with boxes of papers and other things with the same moldy smell. JJ held your mouth and nose in his hand as your headache came back during the drive. When you finally got back to the chateau, JJ brought you inside and seeked out help.
He left a kiss on your forehead before whispering sweet nothings into you and promising to always keep you safe. You believed him, holding his shaking hands to your body, trying to let his love heal you.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
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drac-kool-aid · 9 months
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Y'know, something that gets me, is that in the book, Dracula's intentional predation of Lucy starts off with an accidental meeting. Sure, Lucy slept walked, and an argument could be made her path might have been supernaturally influenced, but I say she'd already been a known sleep-walker, and she went directly to a place she was familiar with.
Her stumbling onto Dracula's hiding spot in a very vulnerable state was just an accident, and from there, he intentionally set out to harm her, and through that, everyone around her he could get.
This is sort of related to Jonathan, too. Had Mr. Hawkins not come down with a bad case of gout, Jonathan wouldn't have been sent to Castle Dracula in his stead. Sure, Dracula probably would have had his fun with Hawkins before inevitably killing him, but I doubt he would have drawn it out so long or taken so much delight.
Dracula never sets out with a master-plan to attack Lucy or Jonathan. They just end up in his path and spark his interest. We know that if he isn't interested in you, he'll kill you. He'll, he breaks Mr. Swales neck doesn't even bite him. But the two victims he decides he's going to make suffer the longest he possibly can, he just stumbles upon and goes "oh this will be fun". Later, we see him start choosing victims as a way to retaliate, but for the two inciting incident victims upon which the rest of the story hangs...its just wrong place wrong time.
The reason this struck me is that I was misremembering. For some reason, which I now believe due to thinking about the *through gritted teeth* Coppola film, is that Lucy is sort of hand-picked by Dracula to be his victim. And yeah, the fucking film ain't subtle in its blaming of Lucy's victimization on the fact that she was Too Pretty and Too Flirtatious and Dracula psychically drew her into the garden in a flowing diaphanous dress, but it's really her fault....I hate this movie.
Like, i just read the films Wikipedia plot synopsis, Dracula "psychically seduces" Lucy before biting her. He chooses her out of everyone in England deliberately.
And just...no. That's not what happens. Lucy got so stressed from her wedding that her latent sleep walking started again. Mina gets so tired from the constant stress she falls asleep without meaning to. Lucy went to their favorite spot...Dracula just happened to be there and took advantage and both Lucy and Mina weren't floating along softly into a garden with a fan letting their hair blow, but cold, scared, and covered in mud and blood, and forced to sneak back to the house that way, facing not only the supernatural but the very ordinary horrors of being caught outside at night by a strange man.
Idk. The tragedy is that Dracula didn't set out to fuck with these people. It's just that they were the ones who crossed his path that he took an interest in, and he decided to draw it out as long as possible.
(Oh fuck, this is the crew of the Demeter too. It isn't like Draculas got some big plan. He just decides he's going to play with his food. Had he boarded any other ship it would have ended up the same way.)
I guess in conclusion, I find it odd that adaptions seem to need to find a reason for him doing what he does. Like, Coppola has to conjure up a whole reincarnation backstory at one point, but I don't understand why!! Let Dracula just be an opportunist, his casual cruelty knowing no reason. That makes him scarier.
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lavender-romancer · 2 months
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Starving
Astarion x (Durge) Reader
CW: angst, fluff, sexual tones
He needed you. But in his dark pit of starvation he feared he pushed you away past the point of return.
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*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*
You didn't seek love in Astarion no matter how much you wanted it. What would affection and adoration do for him when what he really needed was a friend, a confidante. Someone he would never think was using him. After so many years of abuse that violated his very understanding of intimacy and consent, you wouldn't dream of overstepping any boundary in existence. Trying to talk him off a metaphorical ledge of ostracism was more important than physical urges. He didn't need to feel alone or terrified someone would hurt him again. Whilst Astarion could easily protect himself, you decided that when he wasn't hiding in the shadows you would protect him from any enemy he came across.
After saving Faerûn the two of you had decided to live together, much to Astarions confusion, you wanted to stay close to him. Offer up your blood freely to him and create somewhere that felt safe for him. He was still plagued with nightmares, but you began reading deeper into alchemy to try and help him through his trances.
He never understood why you were so supportive of him. 200 years and he never met anyone so genuinely dedicated without expecting much in return. All you asked was that he wouldn't run away if they had an argument and that he wouldn't feed on any other people. It was simple and there was a deep rooted respect between the both of you no matter how much you flirted with one another, there was a boundary. It had never been crossed, he had never been touched without giving his consent, just as Astarion would never touch you or bite you without consent.
Why you had decided to help and live with him after everything that happened was beyond him. Why not Shadowheart? Or maybe Halsin? Even Gale would- Astarion had to stop himself in thought as he remembered how utterly boring he found Gale. He was much better company, even with a very slight fondness for the wizard, Gale was hardly a casual conversationalist. Mostly resorting to threats about hurling a fireball at someone or casually reminding everyone he was a walking bomb. No, Astarion was more fun. Maybe that was why you liked being around him? But he had become so comfortable with you, he found it so easy to talk about his past when the two of you would sit by the fire in your respective arm chairs and read.
Those moments in front of the crackling logs were monumentally special to him, he had no idea how to express his gratitude
You expected so little, asked for much less and respected him. Whenever he would make a mistake or break something he would immediately start profusely apologising, still mentally conditioned to expect a physical punishment regardless of remorse. But all you did was ask for his help to clean up the mess and you both moved on, you were two barely functioning adults but seemed to help one another. You still remembered little from your past, your childhood or anything in between but helping Astarion gave you a purpose that mattered. It was hard to focus on your own shortcomings when you had a whiny (bitchy) vampire to live with and help. But it worked. The two of you were trying to be normal and doubted that you could on your own.
Whilst the two of you had your own demons you were in a pact of some sorts, neither of you wanted to leave the other to deal with those demons alone. Your other companions were constantly confused by whatever your relationship was. Assuming it was romantic and sexual but, being even more confused upon finding out it wasn't. There was always a feeling something would happen between the two of you, but neither you, nor Astarion would admit it. Both of you too scared that you would lose the other forever if anything romantic happened.
“What wine would you like?” You asked, walking into the front room holding two bottles of red. Astarion was sitting in his armchair illuminated by the fire. The orange hue danced around the shadows of his face and it made you want to take him in your arms and never let go.
“Whatever is older, darling. Things do rather improve with age you know.” Astarion replied with a slight smirk and you rolled your eyes.
He couldn't take his eyes off you as you left, the way you leant against the doorway showed the curve of your stomach and hips. Astarion had to snap his brain out of it as he realised he was staring at the curve of your breasts as you turned to leave. Why was he so unbearably horny today? He supposed it was the night that he usually fed on you. Maybe his bloodlust created a different kind of lust all together? He had been admiring you like this for too long now, it couldn't be bloodlust that made his cock twitch and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sparing quick looks as you made a confused face when you were reading and got to a word you struggled with, he loved when you would ask for help so openly and without shame . It was something he desperately envied about your character. Your nose would sometimes scrunch up when he would tell you how to pronounce the word because apparently it was “stupid to have silent letters”. But recently, especially when he had been feeding on you, he couldn't stop wanting to touch you. He wanted to pull you close and never let you go, fuck you for hours and never leave your side.
“I made something for you. Well. Decanted I suppose.” You walked back into the front room with two goblets of wine and a vial of something tucked under your arm.
“What's that?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. After setting the goblets down you handed the vial to him. He already knew what it was before looking more closely, he could smell it. Your beautiful sweet blood.
“For your convenience.” You smiled down at Astarion but he didn't look best pleased. You thought this might be easier, at least for you. Everytime he fed on you all you wanted was to touch him, get some kind of friction because to your shame it made you so ridiculously aroused.
“When did you…” his voice trailed off and your palms began to sweat.
“Do you not like the idea?” You asked sheepishly, ready to snatch the vial back.
“Well, darling, the feeding process is a nice experience and it…” he was trying to find any words to retain the physical closeness you had whilst feeding. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you last time it happened?”
“What makes you ask that?” You sat down in the armchair adjacent to his.
“I…” He felt if he opened up that things would never be the same. So it was easier to close everything off again. “If you would like to change things I can go back to stalking other pretty things in the night.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Sometimes you're impossible. This is more convenient for when I'm not here or when I-”
“When you eventually leave, you mean.” The words crawled out of his mouth with such malice.
“I did not say that, Astarion. Stop acting like a child and communicate!” You yelled back as the heat rose into your face and your eyes began to prick.
“Oh shall I get on my knees and pray to the saint that has allowed me to exist with her blood? There are plenty of places I can get it if you won't offer up your neck for free!” He fired back, getting just as riled up.
“I'm freely giving you my fucking blood! I'm still giving it to you. What difference does it make? I try so hard. So fucking hard to make you feel secure and understood but you react to everything like a child!” You stood up and walked a few paces towards the fire with your back to him.
“I didn't realise I was such an inconvenience in your pretty little head.” Astarion almost laughed, a petty attempt to get a rise out of you when he was quickly running out of options to keep you close to him. You stayed quiet for a moment, one hand on your stomach, the other leaning on the mantle above the fire as if you were bracing yourself for the pain to follow.
“I just want the best for you. For our friendship and I…” your voice broke as you choked down the urge to sob.
“Yes, our precious friendship.” He sounded so vindictive that you wondered if he really cared about you at all.
“Do you not want it? Our friendship?” Your voice was so small and defeated.
“Oh, making me the bastard in this situation is just pathetic. After two hundred years of pure shit where I was always in the wrong and punished for it I don't want to hear it anymore!” He roared back at you. When he stood up you actually flinched, a fleeting thought crossed your mind that this was when he would ignore every warning and just drink you dry.
“I-” You tried to speak but you couldn't. All you wanted was to cry, just let it all out because the emotions were too much for you to carry anymore. The carnal desire you felt for him, the deep and earnest care you felt and the sense of responsibility for his well being. It always seemed that you were in control when really he held all the cards.
“Fucking hells.” Astarion muttered angrily before storming upstairs. You could finally sit back in your chair and cry.
Staring into the flames that usually brought you so much comfort but now, they just made you yearn for a life that was never lived. So long ago he said you were the only person he had ever truly cared about, that he would never hurt you and never leave your side. Those longing looks you'd steal when he'd laugh or the way you played into his flirting from the first day you met him. To this day you remembered nothing before the nautiloid, but, you knew Astarion. You knew he'd be there when you came home and would listen to your anxieties. He had always been in your life as far as you were concerned. So why had everything changed over something so ridiculous as the way you gave him your blood?
You pulled your knees up to your chest and sobbed, he wouldn't be there when you woke up and you knew it was all over. He's gone now, he's running away from your grasp and you'll never get him back no matter what you want from him- the voices in your head told you. You hit your forehead repeatedly trying to get them to shut up but they wouldn't subside. Why did you ever think he loved you? That he needed you for more than a pretty little snack? You wait around hoping he'll take more fucking interest in you when he wants nothing more than your beautiful blood. You should drain him of every drop in his body. It would serve him right, the decimation of a monster.
You wanted to scream. To pull out your brain and scrub out the voices, hurt yourself to a point where you would no longer care about what Astarion did to you. But how could any pain, any anguish overcome the love you felt for him? The Urge. The Urge was clawing it's way out of the depths of your psyche. How could it really be gone when it had penetrated every memory you currently held. You didn't know life without the torturous spasms and depraved thoughts. You thought they might end with the death of your butler but, no. The Urge was ever present.
The fire crackled and lit the shadows of the room, yet you couldn't feel its warmth as you sat cold and alone. He was your warmth, your sun, your stars. Whenever you spoke to him your day would be brighter and your head clearer. Seeing him would make you smile and make you feel safe. You cursed yourself, you should never have been so dependent.
He felt like shit. Utter shit. Why had he exploded like that? What was the point when you didn't do anything wrong, it was your neck he drank from and yet he felt some kind of authority? No, it was not his place nor his decision and he really did feel like the fucking idiot. As he was about to leave his room to apologise he heard it. The noise that haunted him whenever he heard it. Your sobs, that permeated into his soul and made his dead heart ache. He adored you so deeply that whenever it felt like you were pulling away he would double down on harshness. It made him feel in control of the situation because, if he was the first to leave then he won.
Astarion sat down quietly on the stairs. Wanting to wait till your sobs subsided but they seemed full of a sadness that would never subside. All you ever did was help him, try to find a way for him to walk in the sun, sate his bloodthirst and yet… sometimes in his irrational brain it felt like you were trying to find a way to fix him so you could leave. When he was broken you could fix him in a never ending loop. But as soon as he was put back together there was no reason for the two of you to exist together. He would never get to be close to you, never touch you or hear you laugh. But now, due to his own stupidity you would leave anyway but this time with hatred for him.
Just his luck that he would be turned into a monstrous vampire, be threatened with turning into a mindflayer but the true evil was always inside of him. It felt ridiculous when he pondered on it. He was so at home here with you, so comfortable and safe but it was never enough. The evil inside of him would always rise up and ruin everything around him.
He felt like such a fucking bastard to make you cry. Make you feel so lonely that you would feel the need to cry, which you rarely did. Once or twice in the many years you'd known one another he had held you as you cried. Whispered words of support and affirmation as he held you close, it was such a rarity that he reminisced on those moments more than he cared to admit. Being able to be a comfort to you was ridiculously cathartic for him.
For centuries he had been a death sentence to everyone he got close to. Cazadors favourite errand boy, collecting lost pretty souls for him to gorge his ascension depravity on. He would never overcome that guilt, not that he should- it was his cross to bear. But being your comfort, your home… it made it all less soul crushing. When Astarion was with you he felt worthy, like he had a purpose to be your protector when you were really his. He felt safe and respected and if he ruined that then maybe he deserved to step into the sun.
Deciding it would be better if he slipped away quietly he waited for your sobs to subside. Suspecting you were asleep he crept down the stairs and stayed to the back wall, hoping to avoid his shadow being plastered on the wall in front of you.
“Is this it then?” You said quietly and it surprised even Astarion that his hiding skills had become so lax of late.
“What?” Was all he could say, bewildered at why you would care if he would leave.
“Is this it? Are you leaving me?” You slowly stood up and faced him, your eyes still watering.
“I thought it might be easier if I left when I thought you were asleep. It appears my hiding deficiency needs some serious attention.” He tried to smile and make some joke to thinly veil his panic.
“Please. Don't, Astarion.” You took one step closer to him and he wasn't sure if you were referring to him leaving or the poorly timed joke. The silence continued into what felt like hours to him. Having no clue what the right response would be, he could only remain quiet and hope that you wouldn't tell him to leave.
“Do you want to leave?” You asked, looking down at the floor and trying to hide the very clear tears in your eyes.
“I- if it would be best for you then I will.” Astarion was teetering between each foot, one closer to you and the other closer to the door. Maybe if he left now it would all be less painful, he could learn to forget you. But if he stayed, what if you grew to hate him? He couldn't survive it.
“But do you want to leave?” You asked again, surprised by your pleading tone.
“I don't know.” Was all he said and it was enough for you to lose all hope, you wanted to cry until it hurt but it wasn't fair on him. If he wanted to leave then you shouldn't be restricting him.
“If this is the last time I ever see you, I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the best thing for our friendship because I couldn't remain your friend and-” You interrupted yourself, because it wasn't fair to practically guilt trip him.
“In all the time I have known you, you have only made decisions to better others. But, what do you want?” Astarion turned to fully face you, no longer edging towards the door.
All you wanted to say was that you wanted him. You just wanted him, in whatever form that would take it didn't matter as long as he stayed. You could remain friends, though you'd always crave more but, it was better than never seeing him again.
“I want,” you paused, pondering on a response that wouldn't send him running away into the night. “I want you to be happy.” Astarion looked at the floor and smiled.
“My ever generous confidante. That can't be the only thing you desire, the only thing that you want. My happiness is inconsequential compared to your own.” He wanted to reach out, show that you didn't have to worry about him. Prove that he could stand on his own without needing you but he wasn't so sure it was true. The constant insecurities he had were only amplified by the possibility that you would see his shortcomings and push him away.
“Inconsequential? How can you even consider that? I care about you more than myself sometimes and I don't see it as a weakness. We support one another, help one another and what is the point of any of this if I have to pretend that something matters more to me than your happiness? You have no idea how important you are, how loved.” You said it without thinking and the fear was evident in your eyes to Astarion as he had the same look on his own face.
As much as he wanted your adoration, your love? It absolutely terrified him. Was it all just bloodlust? Was he using you as some willing blood bag? If he stopped feeding on you at any point would it all fade away into nothingness and he'd realise none of it was love, it was his insatiable hunger? The silence between the two of you felt cursed, the one to break it would have to be a stronger man than he was because he was too scared to say a word. Rooted in place, not able to flee because of that look in your eyes. He couldn't leave whilst you looked so terrified, he had an urge to take you in his arms. But he didn't, he stayed in place
“Astarion?” You sounded terrified.
“Your life would be so much easier without me.” He sounded so genuinely exasperated, unable to understand why you would want him in your life. His eyes welled up and he looked so beautiful in the light of the fire and, you couldn't help but feel more drawn to him.
“And?” You replied, more determined than ever to prove how you cared for him.
“That's all you have to say?” He asked and you nodded, it elicited a laugh from him that sounded hollow and yet relieved.
“You make my life better. It feels enriched and happy, you are the only person who calms me and comforts me. The only one I am completely comfortable with, the only one I want to be around this much.” you held one of his hands tentatively.
“You’re shaking, darling.” Astarion softly told you, leading you to your armchair and sitting you down.
“If your only reason is that it is better for me, please stay. I want you to stay here with me and we can carry on as we always have and-” he stopped you mid sentence putting a hand up.
“I don't think we can continue as we always have my darling.” He let out a sigh and you dug your nails into the arm of the chair.
“Then…what do we do?” You asked, still feeling like you were shaking and feeling even more pathetic by the minute.
“I mean, I don't know how any of this works, what comes next or what you exactly want from me.” whilst he couldn't reach your gaze he didn't seem upset.
“Well what do you want from me?” Your voice was strained and anxious, you were so completely convinced he would tell you that he wanted space from you.
“More, more than this. I don't… how the hells do you do all of this?” He sounded a mixture of happy and confused.
“Slowly. If that's what you want, it's not exactly that much of a transition from how we were. Less longing glances and more actual contact I suppose? I haven't ever had a companionship. Well, if I have it's before I lost my memory so this is… intimidating.” Your eyes flicked from the floor to Astarions anxiously.
“I don't remember ever having it either. We really are the weirdos of our odd little group aren't we. Even La'zel has probably had a companion. Losing to La'zel when it comes to romance is not something I plan on continuing.” Astarion held your hand tighter, looking up into your eyes.
“I care about you, so much.” You placed a hand on his cheek and he leant into it.
“Stop being so nice to me. Makes me feel like a good person. Ugh.” Astarion mocked disgust but you knew he loved the praise.
“Only leave me if you want to. Will you promise me that?” your thumb stroked across his cheek and you saw a single tear fall across your hand.
“Darling, I will never want to leave you, and the fact that you willingly give me a choice makes it clearer that I want to stay with you.” Astarion pulled your hand up to his face and kissed the back of it before hugging you around your stomach. Leaning his head on your lap. You finally relaxed and stopped shaking, stroking his hair in the firelight, you both existed in perfect happiness.
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
Text
You Want Your Avatar To Become Fully Na’vi, But Neteyam Is Firmly Against It (SFW / Slight-Angst)
Reader is Fem! Avatar
CW: Angry Neteyam, he means well, he’s just scared :’), reader is in her avatar body during argument, things for the humans of Pandora aren’t doing so great, this was NOT meant to take this long, i dont think this came out well
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“Absolutely not! It is out of the question!” Neteyam harshly dismissed, turning his back on you.
“Neteyam, you are only looking at the possible downsides. I-.” “I do not find your death a downside, (y/n),” he cut off, whipping back around in anger.
He could not believe you were suggesting this, knowing how he felt about the subject.
You wanted to make the change, to ask Eywa to bond your human soul with your Na’vi avatar.
But there was no guarantee that the Great Mother would accept this request. 
In fact, it was highly likely that she would deny it, taking you to join her sooner than planned.
Like so many had before you.
“Well, living in my human body is not much different from death, is it?” you huffed, angrily crossing your arms.
“Do not talk like that,” Neteyam glared, pointing a warning finger at you, saying Eywa forbid in his head for good measure.
“It’s true! I am a human, Neteyam! Living on a planet where anything and everything can kill me! My bones aren’t reinforced with carbon like you!” you burst, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“All it takes is one misstep, one wrong move, one place I’m in at the wrong time. And I’m done. Finished.”
“I will protect you, then! But there is no way I can let you go through with this!” Neteyam exclaimed, his eyes having the tiniest flicker of...something.
It was fear.
This conversation was truly frightening him. 
You seemed dead set on this, not budging a single inch even after the screaming match you two had been having for the past hour.
“There is no guarantee that you will survive the transfer.”
“There is no guarantee that you will be there every time I need saving,” you countered, sharply.
“I WILL BE!”
“BUT WHAT IF YOU WON-?!”
“KEHE!” he loudly hissed, silencing you mid-sentence.
You looked at him, blankly. Shocked.
He had never hissed at you before.
“I will not listen to this any longer,” he said darkly, turning around and getting ready to walk out.
You could not let the argument end like this. 
And you knew you had to share with him what you had found out from the scientists.
"There’s been talk, Neteyam,” you started, the Na’vi boy stopping in his tracks.
He was listening.
“I overheard Norm and Max talking about the oxygen tanks that were left over from the first Great War. They said that they can only last for so long. And with no way to replenish them, they’re guessing we only have about a year and a half of air left before it completely runs out.”
Neteyam’s eyes shot wide as he turned around, looking at you nervously.
Fearfully.
“That is why I have been so persistent with this. If I do not make the transfer, I will either be sent back to Earth-.” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Or I will die.”
The horrible word sent Neteyam’s head spinning, his mind already coming up with images of you laying on the forest ground, gasping for air that was no longer there.
Both options were unbearable.
Your death was obviously out of the question. But going back to Earth? 
He’d never see you again. 
You’d go back to living with your people. And no doubt some human man would try to sweep you off your feet.
The very thought made his blood boil, and his heart burn.
Not you. Not his love.
He didn’t think he could physically function without you by his side.
Who would braid his hair? Who would cuddle him when he was tired? Who would help patch his wounds after battle?
The poor boy was so lost in his imaginary grief, that he didn’t even notice to walk up to him, until you cupped his cheek in your hand.
“Do you see now? The choice is death now, or death later-.” “Please,” Neteyam stopped you, pleadingly, his voice cracking as he rested his forehead on yours.
“Do not speak like that. Do not bring those pictures into my head.”
You sighed, allowing your thumb to caress his cheek as you placed a feather-light kiss on his lips.
“I will not go through it without your blessing, my Neteyam,” you assured, giving him a sad smile.
If Neteyam did not feel comfortable with you making the transition, then you would respect his wishes. 
Neteyam took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.
“You promise you will come back to me?” he asked, muffled as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
You cheesed, a small chuckle escaping your lips.
“I do not believe Eywa brought us together if she did not plan for me to.”
...
“Tìng mikun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok!” Mo’at exclaimed to the People, the Sully family, and the entire clan connected to the Soul Tree.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison, the bioluminescent ground pulsing on beat.
You, and your avatar body, lay naked at the base of the tree, unconscious as the undergrowth made tsaheylu with the nape of both your necks.
Neteyam kneeled nervously before you, saying his own quiet prayer to Eywa for your good health.
To everyone else, he seemed surprisingly calm about this, as if the whole ceremony didn’t faze him in the slightest.
But on the inside, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
If you were to die, he didn’t think he could take it.
He wasn’t strong enough.
When he watched the beautiful eyes of your human body shut, it felt as if his heart was being ripped out.
What if that was the last time he could look into them? 
His hands shook as he continued, the only one seeming to notice being his mother.
She knew how she felt.
She was in his exact place at one time. Years ago.
“Pori tireati, munge mì nga,” Mo’at walked over to your human body, shaking her hands above you.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.
“ulte tìng ayoer nì’eyng ngeyä ya!” she shifted to your avatar, shaking her hands above her as well.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.
“Tivìran po ayoekip,” Mo’at held her hands up to the air.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.
“Na Na’viyä hapxì!” she shouted, whipping her hands out to the People.
“Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”
Mo’at’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to chant, Neteyam practically sweating bullets.
It’d be quite a funny sight if the stakes weren’t so high.
“Lu hasey!” she shouted, silencing the crowd.
The ceremony was done.
Quickly, Neteyam crouched over you, carefully removing the oxygen mask from your face and placing it next to you.
He leaned down, placing two, gentle kisses on each of your eyelids.
You looked so peaceful.
Moving over to your avatar, he carefully caressed her face, looking down at her so lovingly.
Don’t get him wrong, your human body was beautiful. One of the prettiest he’s ever seen.
But when it came to your avatar.....well....let’s just say your features, and a Na’vi woman’s features, mix very well.
“Please wake up, my love. I am right here. I am waiting for you,” he encouraged, raising your hand to his cheek as he sadly smiled.
He knew passing through the Eye of Eywa was very tiring, but he would be there to cheer you on the whole way.
And just like that, you gasped, your eyes snapping open.
The entire clan went up in uproarious cheers.
This was the first time the transfer had worked in a long time.
“My (y/n)!” Neteyam sighed, relieved as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
He was at the brink of tears.
He was so, so proud of you.
That’s right. His soon-to-be mate was the one that survived. 
She was a strong, beautiful, and tough woman, Na’vi or not.
“It....worked!” you looked down at yourself, turning over your hands to get a good look at them.
I had truly worked. You were Na’vi now.
And you had seen Eywa.
Oh, she was so gorgeous. Her beauty was divine, and beyond complete comprehension, but she was still soft and kind, like that of a mother.
You would have to tell Neteyam all about it when you got a chance.
Speak of the devil.
“Neteyam!” you squealed as the boy quickly scooped you up bridal style, turning to the clan with a smirk on his face.
“AUAUAUAUAUAUAUAU!” he ululated happily, holding you close as he paraded you down the aisle, his smile nearly blinding you.
You laughed, wrapping our arms around his neck as the people of the clan cheered, some letting out their own shouts of joy.
As you two approached his ikran, you smirked, sitting yourself down on the saddle.
“I told you I would make it back,” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the warrior as he hopped on behind you.
“I am happy you proved me wrong,” he smirked, turning your chin with his thumb and index, landing a passionate kiss on your lips.
It was the type to leave you breathless when you separated.
Which it did.
As you stared at him, stupidly...lovingly. He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
“What am I going to do with you?”
...
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