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grandline-fics · 2 days

Note

Hiiiii this is my first time requesting something so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense, but is it okay if you do some silly Headcanons of Ace, Shanks, or Crocodile with a serious s/o that is just the complete opposite when seeing something cute like a puppy??

DESCRIPTION: You’re completely serious until you see something cute

WARNINGS: nothing comes to mind

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Crocodile

WORDS: 1,933

A/N: Thank you for this request, sorry you had to wait so long for this and I hope you like how it turned out.

I've been making the most of this burst of energy and feeling well by getting as much writing done as I can. Here's hoping it lasts. As always thank you all for reading. Enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

You were a naturally serious person and you couldn’t help it. Sure you enjoyed spending time with the people you loved and cared about but when it came to expressing that emotion, especially a smile that went beyond the brief upturn of the corner of your mouth it was a rare occurrence. You made no turn to apologise for your personality, those that knew you had no doubt about how loving and loyal you were and they wouldn’t change you for anything. Ace especially adored you just the way you were. Besides he was the one that smiled constantly so he would always say you both balanced each other out perfectly.

There was also another reason why he liked how your smile and expressions of light-heartedness were so rare. He loved that they were mostly reserved for him and if anyone else got to see them then they’d try and take you from him. Obviously Ace knew that was impossible but he still liked to think of something that was intimately yours and his. However one day Ace and the rest of the crew stumbled across a sure fire way to get passed your natural stoicism completely by accident and it was all Ace’s doing.

“Hey check it out! My little brother’s crew got posters!” Ace called out the the crew one day with a proud grin as he read over the story that accompanied the Strawhat crew’s introductory bounties. Playfully you rolled your eyes despite your expression remaining as calm as always as you approached your boyfriend. You’d heard him talk countless times about his little brother and had heard about the small crew he’d assembled from the time Ace briefly reunited with them in Alabasta but apart from the Captain and his second in command, Zoro you hadn’t seen their appearances until now.

“They attacked Enies Lobby?” You asked, letting out a low whistle of respect at the new crew’s reckless actions. The rest of the crew listening finally took notice too, all of them could repeat Ace’s adoring speeches about Luffy word for word by now so hadn’t really taken noticed of the second division commander’s announcement until now. “At least they know how to get the world’s attention.” You mused, taking the pile of posters into your hand to inspect the totals. Your eyes flicked over the likes of Luffy, Zoro, and Robin with familiarity. They already had bounties so it was nothing new. For Sanji, Nami, Franky, and Usopp you took in their features to recognise them in future. In Ace’s mind his little brother’s crew were like family too.

Finally you pulled out the last poster and a strange noise broke from your lips, startling everyone in the crew as they looked at you. The noise had been shocking enough but to see your eyes all but sparkling and giddy smile light your face threw them off even more. “He’s so cute!” You grinned at the picture of Chopper in your hands, overcome by the adorable reindeer. “Ace! Why did you hide this from me!”

“I did!” Ace protested, recovering faster than the others since he’d been privileged to see this side of you before. “I told you there was a reindeer thing on Luffy’s crew!” Wincing when you lightly flicked his forehead.

“He’s not a thing! He’s adorable!” You admonished before smiling broadly at the bounty photo again. ”He looks so soft, I just want to hug him.” Ace watched you with a deepening pout, jealous suddenly of a photo and hoped you and the reindeer never crossed paths.

SHANKS

Sometimes your seriousness felt like a curse when you were on Shanks’ crew. While everyone else followed their Captain’s whims of adventure and revelry without any thought of consequences or limitations, you felt alone at times in being the one to offer a voice of reason when the occasion called for it. While you knew your crew was an immensely strong one, practically undefeated you also knew how quickly the tide could turn against anyone who wasn’t careful. In the unpredictability and cruelty of the life you’d all chosen for yourselves, it was better to be safe than sorry. When you and Shanks became a partnership in a physical and romantic sense, that weight of having to be the serious and level-headed one only seemed to increase.

Thankfully Shanks was the perfect partner to have, even before you were a couple he would boast to anyone that would listen that he knew you’re every emotion despite the neutral and serious expression you had. As imperceivable as you appeared to many, Shanks could read you like a book. It was also a little infuriating that he knew your weaknesses and what would make you show your feelings a little more to others. You don’t even know how it happened but Shanks liked to make a game out of it, whoever could make you a full smile got anything they wanted. Obviously Shanks wasn’t allowed to take part and the game was only when you permitted it such as when you were all in a safe territory. In all the crew’s attempts no-one had ever won.

On one evening you sat beside Shanks as you waited patiently for the others to start making their first of many turns to get a reaction out of you. As always, everyone that was taking part was filled with swagger and ‘had the winning technique’ but after a couple hours with your expression as unmoving as always, the bolster had ebbed into mass dejection and turning to their drinks for consolation. The only people truly enjoying their night were those that knew better than to try and Shanks who laughed happily and pulled you close. “Imagine if they found out how easy it was.” He grinned in your ear. Quickly you glanced at him, amusement in your eyes while you expression was masterfully neutral.

Just as you were about to relax you heard a rustling behind you and you looked towards the noise while the others paid no notice. Which was why they hadn’t known what took your attention until you’d gotten out of your seat to investigate and you let out a surprised squeal when you found what it was. Having never heard the sound from you before the crew was frozen in place and their eyes bugged out when you reappeared, the largest adoring smile on your face aimed at the bundle of fur in your arms.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Ben muttered as he watched you settle back into your seat beside Shanks, your attention raptly on what he now saw what the answer to Shanks’ game was. “A kitten? They smile for a kitten.”

“Well anything cute, but yeah.” Shanks grinned, looking over your shoulder to lightly scratch under the kitten’s chin as it purred.

“He’s just like you Shanks, look.” You cooed, the smile never leaving your face as you adjusted the kitten against your chest to show it only had three legs. “He’s coming with us, by the way.” You added before getting lost in pouring affection onto the tiny creature. Shanks let out a small amused huff. All the other times you’d pleaded to bring all the cute animals you came across onto the ship, he had to restrain himself from giving in to your every wish and tell you no, this time however there was no room for arguing and he wasn’t going to if it meant he got to enjoy your smile more.

CROCODILE

“Crocodile, you might want to go to do some damage control before they murder someone.” Crocodile looked up from his stack of paperwork to see Mihawk had already left his doorway. There was only one person that the swordsman would warn him about, you. With a heavy breath he rose and walked down the hallway and opened the door to see you sitting at your desk, papers fisted tightly in one hand while the other was clamped against your head as you tried to rub the knot causing a tension headache away. Slowly you lifted your head at stared at your lover with cold fury.

“If that clown blows the budget I’ve assigned him one more time I’ll kill him and I don’t care how valuable he is to the face of this business.” You seethed, watching him approach and set himself against the edge of the large desk. You eyed him evenly watching as a growing smirk appeared on his handsome face. Obviously you didn’t share his humour in this situation but then again you were the outwardly colder of the couple. Compared to your constantly serious expression, Crocodile came across as a sweetheart. When his large hand fell over yours and lightly coaxed your fist to relaxed you only then realised how tightly you’d been holding the now wrecked papers. With a sigh you discarded them with a swipe before returning your hand to Crocodile’s hold. “Out of curiosity, is there anyway we can just get rid of him and hire a normal clown to take his place?”

“As much as I’d love to fulfil your wish, my love sadly he’s needed and the Marines would notice a fake.” Crocodile chuckled.

“You give them too much credit.” You muttered evenly, you had more faith in Buggy’s ability to stick to a spending budget than you did in the Marines as a whole. You glared at your ruined paperwork that had caused your anger and the untouched bundle of work that you couldn’t bring yourself to touch. Sitting back in your seat, you dropped your free hand to pinch the bridge of your nose while your eyes closed slowly.

“Headache still there?” He asked, watching you nod. Crocodile made a note to punish Buggy in his own way later on but at this moment you were the priority and he grinned triumphantly when the surprise he was withholding until later on was now just what you needed. Crocodile stood and pulled your hand, a silent request for you to stand. “Come on, I know what will help.”

“Unless it’s putting a sea prism stone boot up the clown’s ass I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come now, entertain me.” Crocodile urged smoothly, leading you out of the office and down the corridors. “I’ve never steered you wrong have I?”

“Apart from seducing me, corrupting my innocent soul, and leading me into a life of crime? No.” You said sarcastically earning a laugh from your lover. The only thing he was guilty of in that list was seducing you. You were already a criminal and far from innocent when he met you.

When you both approached the basement you gave Crocodile a suspicious look before realisation hit you. Without him needing to say anything you hurried into the area only you and he entered, the Bananawari enclosure. You approached the warmest section and gasped in excitement to see heavy cracks had appeared in the cluster of eggs in the centre. Crocodile smirked as he stood beside you, it seemed your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. In moments the eggs broke open and the newest additions of his pets appeared eliciting an excited laugh from you. With a bright smile that only Crocodile got to see you started to talk affectionately to the newborns as someone else would a puppy or baby. To him there was no better sight in the world.

“Oh you’re all so precious, yes you are.” You grinned. “Would you all like to meet your dear, possibly delicious Uncle Buggy?”

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

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littlerat2 · 3 days

Text

"Is now a good time to tell you we're dating?"

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety

Warnings: Kissing. I think that's it but as always, please feel free to let me know if there's any I should add!

Word Count: 822

AO3: Currently unavailable, cause I'm posting this on my phone, and I have no clue how to post on AO3 on mobile, and I'm on a bit of a time crunch, but it should be available on AO3 in a few hours (unless I forget).

Summary: Just some fluffy Prinxiety I wrote very late at night. Probably a little OOC, but it was like, 4 AM, so shhh. Originally wasn't gonna post it, but my friends really liked it, and one threatened to eat my social security card if I didn't XD

Authors Note: Thank you so so so much to @logan-the-artist and @cats-soups for beta reading this fic!! And thank you guys for your kind words, and also for just like, being fuckin' awesome people!

Virgil awoke missing the warmth Roman provided. They’d spent the night cuddling and watching Disney movies, and Virgil had actually gotten some good sleep. But now his prince was gone. He wasn’t there to kiss the pinch out of Virgil’s browline, and play with his hair.

He wasn’t having it.

He got up to look for his prince, shivering as his feet touched the cold floor. He checked the time. It was ten AM, about two hours before he usually got up. He briefly considered going back to bed, but goddamnit, he missed Roman, and he wanted a kiss.

So he walked out of his room and down the stairs sleepily. He was met with Patton, who was tidying up in the kitchen, humming a happy little tune.

“Oh, hey there, kiddo! You’re up early!”

“Morning, Pat,” Virgil mumbled with a yawn. “Have you seen Roman?”

“He’s in the living room with Janus and Remus,” Patton smiled. “Logan might be in there, too. I’m not sure.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said, offering a sleepy smile as he walked towards the living room.

That was a problem. Roman and Virgil hadn’t told the others they were dating yet. Not for Roman’s lack of trying. He’d been ready to tell the others for a few weeks now, but Virgil insisted they wait just a little longer. He wasn’t sure why. He knew the others wouldn’t care, but that didn’t calm his nerves. Thankfully, Roman was being very patient. He said they’d tell the others when Virgil was ready.

Virgil wasn’t ready to tell the others, per say. He didn’t want to have that awkward conversation just yet. But he was ready to stop hiding. And he really wanted to kiss Roman’s stupid face.

Then it was settled. He’d decided. He was going to kiss Roman’s stupid face in front of everyone. And then, he wouldn’t have to hide the fact that he wanted to kiss his stupid face ever again.

He stepped into the living room. Janus and Remus were listening to Roman talk about a podcast about gay vampires Virgil had gotten him into. He waved his hands wildly with each passionate word.

Virgil loved how passionate he could get. He loved listening to him talk about his interests. And he loved that he got to share this interest with him. He loved how excited he was to share with Janus and Remus, just like Virgil had been with him.

He made eye contact with Roman. The way his expression softened, just enough for Virgil to notice, and no one else. Oh, it had him smitten.

He all but sprinted towards Roman. He stood on his tiptoes, pulling Roman down by the collar of his shirt. He pressed his lips to Roman’s, his heart pounding in the way it always did when they kissed.

He could feel Roman’s initial surprise fade into contentment, if the way he smiled against his lips was anything to go by. Virgil smiled too, as Roman wrapped his arms around his back, warm and gentle.

He could feel Janus’ and Remus’ eyes on him and Roman, but oddly enough, he didn’t quite care. All he really cared about right now was the lips under his, and the man they belonged to. They were addictive.

He wanted to remain ensnared by Roman’s mouth, but figured he should probably let the taller man return to his conversation. So he leaned against Roman’s chest with a content hum, enjoying his warmth for half a second before looking up at him. A smirk grew on the prince’s face, his eyes alight with mischief, trained on something behind Virgil.

He turned around, seeing Janus’ and Remus’ mouths agape, shock plastered on their faces, as well as Patton’s, who had emerged from where Virgil did just a moment ago.

Roman burst into bright laughter that made Virgil’s chest warm. “Is now a good time to tell you we’re dating?”

The other three just gaped at them for a moment longer, not saying anything even as Logan walked in, his brows furrowed in confusion at the scene.

“Would anyone like to explain why we’re staring at Roman and Virgil?” He asked.

Janus just sputtered for a moment, before giving up. Remus took this as an opportunity.

“I- you- Virgil is dating my brother?”

“You didn’t know?” Logan asked, and Virgil shot him a look.

“You knew?”

“I may be trash at social cues, Virgil, but even I have picked up on the smirks you two share during dinner and movie nights,” Logan deadpanned. “And, my room is right next to yours. You two keep me up all night talking. You aren't exactly quiet.”

Virgil winced lightly. “Sorry about that.”

“That's quite alright. It’s well worth it.” Logan smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling softly. “You two have seemed far happier than I've ever seen you. I'm glad.”

“Aw, thanks, Lo.” Virgil elbowed Logan softly.

“Of course.”

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fuck-i-love-october · 9 hours

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yoo how would u feel writing an angsty oneshot of wolfstar? here is the vision tell me if u see the vision:

remus bandaging sirius up the night after a full moon because as a wolf, he'd hurt sirius _bad_ on accident and the idiot had tried hiding it from the mauraders.

guilt and impromptu love confessions ensue xx

I would absolutely love to fulfill this for you

---------

Remus' head was pounding. He glanced to his left side, empty. Glancing to his right Remus was met with kind dark brown eyes and an overly-sympathetic smile. He hurried a glass of water into Remus' hand, grabbing his wand.

"Moons..Hey. You feeling alright? Head bothering you?"

Remus only nodded, bringing the glass to his lips. Sirius waved his wand around, uttering the mantra of some miniscule little spell McGonagall had taught him 'coincidentally' one day when Remus was at his worst. Remus offered a nod of appreciation, setting the half-empty glass down on the stone floor beside him.

"Thank you, Pads. Hows everyone above ground?" Remus chuckled dryly at the connotation, vaguely he watched a pained expression wash over Sirius' face. Concern bubbled up but he hadn't bothered asking before told.

"Everyone's alright. Prongs came down a few times to check up on you. Peter was busy but he poked his head in a time or two. It was mostly just me and you, Moony." Sirius lopsided grin made that sentence all the more special, still Remus felt as if though something was left unsaid. He remained weary as half-accepted the answer, taking Sirius' hand as he offered. The pair headed upstairs, and then back to their dorm.

James smiled as the door crept open, pulling his shirt over his head. He waved all enthusiastically. Peter peaked up from his book and offered the same sentiment. "Hey! Moony! How're you feeling?" Remus gave the same auto-responsive answer as he had minutes before, the effects of the spell finally coming into play, his head easing. James grabbed his bag, motioning for Peter as the pair left the room, headed hastily to the girls dorms, happily on their way to game night. Remus usually wasn't up for social events as it was, but especially not after a full-moon. Sirius, of course, opted to stay behind. Both in support of Remus and regarding the fact that his brother would be there. Sirius said all was forgiven, but Remus could tell there was more to be said.

Sirius offered an enthusiastic little wink, motioning to the isolation around them. "Oh no, just us, alone, whatever shall we do?"

Remus snorted, shoving Sirius' shoulder. Only, Sirius let out a pained wince, instinctively clutching up at his shirt.

Remus' eyes shot wide with panic. He couldn't have. Surely..

"Pads..whats wrong?"

"Nothing, Rem. No it's nothing-"

"Let me see."

"Remus. Really-"

"Sirius. Seriously. Let me see.."

Remus ignored his alliteration.

Sirius shook his head. Remus gave him a desperate, worryful expression. Sirius had no choice but to lift his shirt off, tossing it as an array of gasps ensued.

Remus' heart plummeted looking at the sight before him. Sirius had a gaping wound across his left shoulder, deep claw marks that surely would scar in time. Remus couldn't think. For the first time, a literacy genius stammered.

"Pads...I..Why would you tell me? I'm so- fuck, I'm so sorry-"

Sirius' eyes filled with tears. Remus had seen the other cry not but three times in all the years he'd known him.

This was wrong

Wrong

Wrong.

"Let me- sit down, Sirius. Let me fix this. Let me try- to fix this.."

Sirius was in no mind to be arguing. He sat as asked of him, eyes puffy as he stared toward the ground. Remus rummaged underneath his bed to grab supplies from the emergency kit he'd never hoped he'd have to use. As he returned to Sirius it was silent. Remus' hands were shaking, still his movement was gentle as he cleaned the wound.

What a gentle being

For such a terrible monster

Remus muttered a thousand and one apologies as he pulled a roll of bandages from his bag. Sirius looked up at him, biting back tears.

"It wasn't your fault, Moony. It's alright. I'm alright, honest." And Sirius smiled. Sirius smiled, wasn't that all Remus needed to start bawling his own eyes out, staring into the dark brown likes of the others. He sniffled, tears running hot down his cheeks, looking through a sea of glassy eyes to the next pair, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never mean to hurt you. You're my everything, Pads- I couldn't..I didn't.."

Sirius, a smile still present on his face, reached a hand up to cradle Remus' cheek, despite the pain it brought him. He wiped away the stream of incoming tears.

"Us against the world, Moony. You think a scratch or two is going to change that? Always and forever will I love you."

Sirius was no fool to his feelings, but this one felt different. This confession, these words they weren't..like they always were. Remus' eyes shifted from distraught to hopeful as he gazed back to his Star, his world, finding that in this moment he had nothing to lose.

Us against the world he replayed as his next words came out in an overly-honest jumble.

"I love you, Sirius. I mean love you. I am in love with you. And I hate myself for it. But you..are my everything. You're my everything.".

Sirius' expression shifted. Barely notable, something he's certain he would have missed had he blinked. He stared forward with the most honest eyes that the man who knew nothing but to run had ever given to another being. And oh, Remus knew.

"I'm in love with you, Remus Lupin. And I'm a total and complete idiot for it, too. So many times should I have told you..So many times should I have tried."

A clear and complete thought from someone who's life was nothing but grossly over-exaggerrated chaos. Remus smiled, leaning down to give Sirius, his Sirius, a kiss.

Remus had always imagined that it would be messy, or rushed. In the hours he'd spent thinking about it, only ever did he associate Sirius with haste. But this was gentle, purposeful. It was slow and careful. It meant something.

They heald each other's gaze for a moment afterward. Remus finished bandaging the other and confidently they can say the next hour and a half were spent with seconds to spare between messy and purposed kisses, a new feeling pushing aside to nestle itself beside Remus' heart.

A wolf knew nothing but to hurt meets a dog that knew nothing but to love. And together they remained. Maybe love is meant for the kind, gentle moments between glances and kisses.

Maybe, Remus thinks,

Love means to look past the ugly, cruel monster one becomes if only to hold the gentler person that monster knows to become.

#marauders #james potter #peter pettigrew #regulus black #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders era #james fleamont potter #the outsiders #jegulus #wolfstar

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tangledinink · 10 months

Note

Are you ok after the newest Cass update??

aw jeez.

.... im gonna finish the silly thing im drawing nad post that. and THEN ill... read it....

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phoenixrisesoncemore · 2 years

Text

The Nameless Enemy: Speculations on My Favorite Baddie, Part 4

“It was an admirable thing and altogether precious.”

Gas cloud surrounding the star Fomalhaut.

go to part 1 | go to part 2 | go to part 3 | this is part 4 | go to part 5 [coming soon]

We never see Sauron—at least not in The Lord of the Rings—and that was funny to 13 year old me. When I first followed Frodo on that journey to Mount Doom I wondered at the choice to name a book after a villain who doesn’t actually appear in it. There’s the arrow of red light from Barad-dûr’s highest tower, of course, or the dark cloud with the reaching arm that rises over Mordor at the moment of Sauron’s defeat, but both of these function as suggestions of his presence or the weight of his attention only; they are the interpretations of the events as seen by others. Likewise, the one and only time Sauron speaks we receive his words through an intermediary—a contrite Pippin who has sneaked a peek at the palantir.

But Sauron is always there. The threat or the fear of him is always just at the edge of our peripheral vision: in the far-flung, millennia-long plots[1]; in the metaphors that put him everywhere all the time, disembodied limbs reaching to encompass all of Middle-earth (“his arm has grown long”) or disembodied eyes searching[2]; in the almost campy performance of evil on display when he orders his minions to steal only black horses from the Rohirrim; in the capitalized pronouns; in the metonymy and other evasive forms of address his orc underlings use to circumnavigate invoking him. In poor Sméagol’s other self[3].

In the ever-increasing weight hanging from Frodo’s neck: our antagonist is on that journey, too, literally and figuratively barreling towards his own destruction.

Along that journey Tolkien tells us numerous names and epithets for him—103 according to Richard Blackwelder’s A Tolkien Thesaurus—not counting the many he goes by in other texts. One of those is “The Nameless Enemy.” This word—“nameless”—is first applied in this way by Boromir at The Council of Elrond and later by Faramir, suggesting that invoking the name “Sauron” may be considered dangerous or even taboo to the Men of Gondor.

But “nameless” is far more appropriate than this simple explanation can express.

Sauron is fundamentally a shape-shifter, a deceiver, the one who sees but is never seen. A cursory reading of the major Legendarium texts reveal a character who appears full of contradictions. He is explicitly characterized by his love of order and efficiency, and yet he is said to have “adored” Morgoth, a being most closely associated with chaos, destruction, and nihilism. He is the technologist, the planner, the maker of Black Speech[4], the one who turns Morgoth’s grand desires into plans of action—like Saruman he “has a mind of metal and wheels.” But he is also Thû, the Lord of Werewolves; Thû, the Hunter; and also Thû, the Necromancer, a master of cruelty and twister of body and spirit. He is the “reformer” who seeks the rehabilitation of Middle-earth, who “was indeed not wholly evil,” who seeks the material betterment of his subjects—so long as he has their worship and obedience. But he is also the catalyst of the final defilement of Númenor where he ends as the high priest of Morgoth, master of lies and disinformation campaigns, and promoter of human sacrifice whose cultivating of humanity’s most horrific traits ends only with the reshaping of the world.

Yet unlike Morgoth, nowhere in the works we collectively call Tolkien’s “Legendarium” does Tolkien ever tell us Sauron’s original name.

Names carry a lot of weight in the Legendarium. Inside the Secondary World of The Lord of the Rings characters like Treebeard express to the reader the importance of names to what and who things and people are. Teenage me was well aware of this. Way back in 1994 I was sure that if I just knew Sauron’s missing original name I could make sense of his contradictions. So I scoured every volume—Letters, Unfinished Tales, The History of Middle-earth—hunting just that information, but without success. 20 years later, at the end of a decade spent not thinking much about Tolkien, Sauron, as far as I knew, was still The Nameless Enemy in both the Primary and Secondary worlds.

Then one night…

I had recently seen The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies and my head was buzzing with Dol Guldur questions. During the wee winter hours of mid January 2015, as I was link-hopping through a Google search, I think I must have made my way back to the “Sauron” entry on Wikipedia[5] which is where (rather ironically) I finally got my answer. Somewhere in Tolkien’s endless linguistic notes he had given his penultimate baddie an original name[6]: “Mairon.”

The name Mairon thus means “admirable/excellent one”, a masculine noun derived from the adjective maira “admirable, excellent, precious” or “splendid, sublime” – “only [used] of great, august or splendid things”[7].

Suddenly Frodo’s description of the Ring just before he fails to throw it in the fireplace at Bag End came bubbling up from my memory, and I opened my nearest copy to find:

Frodo drew the Ring out of his pocket again and looked at it. It now appeared plain and smooth.... The gold looked very fair and pure, and Frodo thought how rich and beautiful was its colour, how perfect was its roundness. It was an admirable thing and altogether precious[8].

Well then. It was at this very moment, in my frustration at having known the answer for 20 years without knowing I knew it, that I threw my one-volume copy of The Lord of the Rings against the wall and screamed a few choice words at Tolkien’s ghost. If he heard me, he hasn’t responded, which is probably just as well.

This isn’t exactly new to Tolkien fandom (certainly not on Tumblr!). This shocking bit of trivia—that Sauron’s original name meant “precious” of all things—is something many fans have already commented on, often with incredible insight, but there are other aspects of this name that I have not seen addressed in meta form, and it’s those I plan to focus on here.

Note: if there is any aspect of Tolkien’s work that I have always felt too ignorant to fully appreciate, it is the linguistics. I beg your indulgence. Chances are high I am about to bull up this china shop.

Locating “Mairon”

The name “Mairon” appears in a selection of linguistic notes dated from the mid 50’s to late 60’s which were compiled for publication in the 17th volume of the journal Parma Eldalamberon (PE17). This body of work consists of glosses and detailed etymological information for words, phrases, & passages in Tolkien’s constructed languages that appear in The Lord of the Rings. Though written after and in response to The Lord of the Rings, the work appears to have effected Tolkien’s understanding of the Silmarillion if Tolkien’s words to Rayner Unwin can be trusted: "Time has not been wasted. I have done a great deal of work on the Silmarillion largely as a consequence of thinking about the points raised.”

The name “Mairon” comes from the primitive root MAY-. PE17 lists several entries for this root, written down at different times, between which there are two main glosses. They are, in order: ‘make’ (in the sense of art) and ‘excellent/admirable.’

A number of roots related to MAY- are also listed including (A)MAY- (‘suitable, useful, proper, serviceable, right’); it’s inverse, PEN- (‘lack’); and MA3- (‘serve, be of use‘ but also ‘handle, manage, control, wield’ and ‘hand’).

From the root MAY- meaning ‘make’ are derived the words ‘maire’ (noun: a work of high and beautiful art), ‘maita-’ (transitive: to make with art, design, compose), and ‘maitar’ (noun: artist). From the first MAY- entry meaning ‘excellent, admirable’ are derived ‘maira’ (adj: admirable, excellent, precious) and ‘maina’ (noun: a thing of excellence, a treasure). And from the second MAY- entry meaning ‘excellent, admirable’ is derived ‘maira’ (adj: admirable, splendid, sublime. Only of great, august or splendid things).

The name “Mairon” is derived from one of these two instances of the noun “maira,” but it’s not hard to see the connection between “Mairon” and some of the other glosses—as a Maiar, especially a Maiar of Aulë, Mairon is certainly a “maker.” The association with “usefulness” also makes sense for a being interesting in order and efficiency. Additionally, as Jonathan McIntosh points out in The Flame Imperishable, the fundamental evil of The Ring—why it cannot ever be used for good—is the fact that it represents the objectification of a person (Sauron), who deliberately turned part of himself into a tool, taking the idea of “usefulness” to terrifying levels.

Throughout his history Sauron repeatedly appears in situations where he either plays a supportive role or pretends to play a supportive role. He is the “admirable/excellent” pupil of Aulë. He switches allegiance and serves Melkor, maintaining the sole admirable quality of seeking no power for himself but only for his master. He provides knowledge to Men in the East and imagines for the inhabitants of Arda a better (material) future. He offers his knowledge to the Elves of Eregion as a part of a plan to jointly fulfill those hopes for the future. As he descends from “benevolent reformer” into madness and murder in his quest for control, we might even guess it is at first only because his perceived ends have overshadowed the means of their acquisition. When the threat of Numenor comes, he once again plays the role of subservient adviser, but this time there is nothing genuine about it. These associations with service are appropriate especially as all of the entries for the root MAY- show the name of the lesser order of Ainur, the “Maiar,” being derived from it as well.

According to Christopher Tolkien, the term “Maiar” first appears some time between 1951 and 1958. The entries for “Maia(r)”/“Maya(r)” in the linguistic notes compiled into PE17 can be dated to between 1955-1960, the same period which the notes that contain the name “Mairon” date to.

These words—one the name for an individual (Mairon) within an order of beings and the other a name for the entire order (Maiar)—are closely related. Considering the fact that most Maiar were associated with service and a subordinate position (most served under a Vala) and all were in some sense “makers” (fundamentally subcreative and even demiurgic beings), perhaps we can say that prior to his corruption, Mairon was a kind of exemplar of his order—not just a maiar, but the maiar, “the definite article, you might say”[9]. This in itself might explain why he was so integral to Morgoth accomplishing so many of his designs during the First Age. As one of if not the most powerful of and exemplary of a class of beings made to serve and be useful, he was likely a very effective asset, and that sheer effectiveness might well be something to be admired for. But how does the meaning of his name compare to other Ainur?

There are relatively few named Valar and Maiar in the Legendarium. For some of these, etymological information can be very sparse. Below follows a list of names and meanings taken mostly from PE17 and from various later volumes of The History of Middle-earth[10]. Since “Mairon” is a Quenya name, I have supplied all other Ainur names in Quenya and only included translations in other languages where I deemed it necessary for clarity.

Valar

Aulë (Q): Invention

Estë (Q): Rest

Irmo (Q): Master of Desire

Manwë (Q): Blessed One

Melkor (Q): Mighty Arising/One who arises in Might

Námo (Q): Judge/Ordainer

Nessa (Q): Young

Nienna (Q): Weeping/She Who Weeps, derived from “nei” (tear)

Oromë (Q): Horn-blower, from the Valarin “Arômêz”

Tulkas (Q): Strong/Steadfast, from the Valarin “Tulukhastāz” (yellow-haired)

Ulmo (Q): The Pourer, from the Valarin “Ullubōz”

Vairë (Q): Weaver, derived from the root “wey” (weave, wind)

Vana (Q): Beauty/Beautiful One

Varda (Q): Sublime/Lofty

Yavanna (Q): Giver of Fruits

Maiar

Aiwendil (Q): Lover of Birds

Arien (Q): Maiden of Sunlight/Maiden of the Sun

Curumo (Q): Cunning One/Man of Skill

Eönwë (Q): etymology unknown but perhaps derived from “haste” or “hawk”

Ilmarë (Q): Starlight

Mairon (Q): Admirable/Excellent; from maira: Admirable/Excellent/Precious/Splendid/Sublime

Melyanna (Q)/Melian (S): Dear Gift

Olórin (Q): Dreams/Dreamer (in the sense of Elvish memory/imagination/inspiration/fantasy)

Ossë (Q): etymology unknown but perhaps derived from “spuming” or “foaming”

Salmar (Q): derived from salma/“lyre”

Tilion (Q): The Horned

Uinen (Q): etymology unknown but perhaps derived from “water” or “seaweed”

No doubt there is a lot of subjectivity in how one can categorize these names—is Melkor’s association with Might that different from Tulkas’s association with Strength?—but for the purposes of this exercise I’m going to take a stab at it.

The vast majority of these names (or titles as the case may be) refer to either distinct material objects, concepts, or aspects of Creation (e.g. sunlight, birds, fruits, horns, beauty, youth, desire, dreams, strength, etc.) or an action or role associated with such (e.g. weaving, inventing, weeping, pouring, foaming, etc.). Such names and titles make sense for beings whose Primary World counterparts are the gods and goddesses of myth, associated as they are with their individual domains. Of the remainder, a handful of Valar names function like honorifics or expressions of awe (e.g. Blessed, Mighty Arising, Lofty) that point to the owner being particularly possessed of power or favor or of being worthy of veneration. The remaining names are Maiar names, and could also be viewed as honorifics, but they do not fit as cleanly into that category, though they each reference the name’s owner as possessing a positive quality. They are Melyanna (Dear Gift), Curumo (Man of Skill), and Mairon (Admirable/Excellent).

“Man of Skill” prompts the question “what kind of skill?” According to Hammond and Scull’s Companion and Guide, the Mannish translation of Curumo—Saruman—is derived from Old English and references “device, design, contrivance, and art,” as would be fitting for a Maia of Aulë. In light of this, it is interesting that Mairon, who was already perceived at the time his name was chosen as “mightiest in the lore” of Aulë, is given a name not associated specifically with artifice and design, but rather with the more generalized characteristics of admirability and excellence. Excellence in what? Admirable for what? This lack of specificity places him, perhaps, more closely in alignment with Melyanna whose name, “Dear Gift,” is derived—like Sauron’s nom de scène “Annatar”—from the root ANA- found in the word for “gift” and associated with the ideas of “to” or “towards.” We might even say that Melyanna’s name implies both relation (a gift requires an object—person or otherwise—to be given to) and the direction of that relation (towards another/away from the self). What then are we to make of “The Admirable”? Instead of asking “admirable for WHAT?“ maybe what we should really be asking is “admirable to WHOM?”

Who Will Admire You Now?

To be admirable requires another (at least theoretical) person to do the admiring. As with Melyanna, the name “Mairon” necessarily implies a relationship and a specific direction to that relationship between the name’s owner and another party, in this case someone capable of admiration. But whereas the idea of “gifting” associated with Melyanna’s name involves movement from her outwards, the direction of action here is reversed—inward instead of outward, from the admirer to the admired.

In letter 183 Tolkien writes of Sauron in the Second Age: “When he found how greatly his knowledge was admired by all other rational creatures and how easy it was to influence them, his pride became boundless.” It is around this time that Sauron begins his quest to obtain worship as a god-king in Middle-earth. His pride is later greatly injured by Ar-Pharazôn’s choice to parade him in chains as a captive through Armenelos. This was a public act, a “showing off” of Sauron, a once mighty god now a humbled prisoner. This was Pharazôn exerting power over Sauron through manipulating how others saw him. It was this humiliation that Tolkien says influenced the magnitude and cruelty of Sauron’s revenge. While the text does not explicitly reference shame here, we can infer it. Shame is pride’s antithesis and is also explicitly associated with Sauron in The Silmarillion.

After his defeat by Luthien and Huan, Luthien obtains ownership of Sauron’s fortress by threatening to shame him before Morgoth. If he does not give her control of it, she says, she will rip his spirit from its house and make him flee naked back to Angband: “[t]here everlastingly thy naked self shall endure the torment of [Morgoth’s] scorn, pierced by his eyes, unless thou yield to me the mastery of thy tower[11].” Later, at the end of the War of Wrath, Sauron presents himself to Eönwë for pardon. Eönwë, however, explains that Sauron must present himself to the Valar for judgment instead, as Eönwë, himself, is not able to judge one of this own order. At this we are told “Sauron was ashamed, and he was unwilling to return in humiliation and to receive from the Valar a sentence, it might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith; for under Morgoth his power had been great.”

Each of these moments are turning points in the trajectory of Sauron’s arc. We don’t hear more about him after he retreats to Taur-nu-Fuin. We can wonder whether he ever even returned to Angband[12] or if he remained hidden until he came before Eönwë. In each of these moments Sauron’s image of himself, the image of himself to others, or what he imagines that image to be plays a fundamental role. That is to say pride—but also shame—plays a fundamental role.

The Silmarillion is filled with cautionary tales about pride. Melkor’s own Fall is the result of his pride, spurred by his time alone searching for The Flame Imperishable, his refusal to work in tandem with the other Ainur in an act of subcreation, and his frustration at not being able to create ex-nihilo as Eru could. He is shamed by the circumstances of his defeat and imprisonment in Valinor and the weakness he exhibits after his return to Angband. His Fall ultimately results in a degradation of the very characteristics that give him his name, “Mighty Arising.”

How might this play out differently in manner or magnitude for a being who may be, in some ontological way, fundamentally tied to receiving the admiration of others and to providing service to others? Does the dance of pride and shame become a kind of feedback loop, a kind of void of its own, like the Ring, itself?

During his eons of time in Middle-earth, the being we call Sauron was known by many names, most of them anything but flattering. Sauron means “The Abhorred”; its parallel in Sindarin, Gorthaur, means “Dread Abomination” or alternatively “Mist of Fear.” Later notes link the names to the root THAW-, glossed “cruel,” while earlier notes link them to the roots SAWA- and THUS- which carry connotations of stench.

As if something has gone off or gone rotten.

These names and the glosses of their roots represent inversions of attributes associated with the name “Mairon”: no longer Admirable but Abhorred, no longer suitable, no longer of service, no longer a maker of art.

But what did Sauron call himself?

Nameless

In PE17 we read the following regarding the name Mairon: “This was altered when he was suborned by Melkor. But he continued to call himself Mairon the Admirable, or Tar-mairon 'King Excellent' until after the downfall of Numenor.” Mairon, himself, did not stop using that name, but someone else, presumably the other Ainur did. They struck him from the rolls, so to speak. No longer an exemplar of their order, he was no longer worthy of either the name Mairon nor the title Maiar[13].

He continued to hold onto this name for himself until after the fall of Numenor. What changes at this point? His physical form having been obliterated, this once-nimble shape shifter can no longer appear fair in the eyes of others. Possessed now with only the Ring’s power of domination and the ability to inspire terror, The Admirable is unlikely to ever again experience the admiration that we might guess is foundational to his very being.

We do not know what Sauron called himself after this point. After his defeat by the host of the Last Alliance he flees (again bodiless) into the East until he can grow a new form—a slow process in his weakened state and bereft of the Ring. Upon his return to Dol Guldur he is given the name “The Necromancer,”[14] but it is never stated that this is what he calls himself.

By the time of the War of the Ring, Aragorn is of the belief that the Dark Lord does not allow the name “Sauron” to be spoken by his subjects. [15] Though it is not clear that anyone but Elves and a few of “the wise” among Men and Dwarves left in Middle-earth would know what the Quenya name “Sauron” even means, it is reasonable that those who you want to view you as a god-king should likely not be calling you “Abhored” while doing so. Still, this doesn’t tell us what name he used for himself.

We do know that “by the end of the Third Age […] he claimed to be Morgoth returned.” Did he really believe that? Tolkien never tells us for sure whether he had actually descended deep enough into madness to believe he was Morgoth. Sauron had preached Morgoth’s return for centuries in the Second Age as Morgoth’s “high priest.” Perhaps the choice to present himself under that name in the Third was expedient: if there was historical knowledge that the entity “Sauron” was overthrown in the Last Alliance, it may be that presenting himself as that same entity would not have inspired the devotion he needed. This would hold with the pattern from his time in Numenor when he converted Men to the worship of Morgoth because, as Pharazôn’s captive, he could hardly demand worship of himself.

This is again part of a trend. Sauron sees but is never seen. The fundamental being, the fundamental and authentic who that was before the Fall is always obscured and never appears in the text. Even Melkor gets some hint of close narrative written of him during the Ainulindalë, in the moments when he was still fully One Who Arises in Might. But not The Admirable. His earliest close narrative appearance in the Legendarium is in the story of Beren and Luthien, long after he has fallen to evil. And it begins with Sauron weaving a web of terror and illusions from within Dorthonian to ensnare Gorlim.

Sauron is a master of crafting images, especially of himself. Melkor diffused his being across middle earth, making it into his Ring, in order that he could control it, tarnish it, destroy it. Not because he wanted to do anything good with it, but because it wasn’t solely his. Sauron splits his Being, pouring some of it into his own Ring, and making of himself an object. He does not spread his Being any farther than that, but he does spread his image—the image of himself he has crafted—such that by the end of the Third Age, while located materially at the top of his tower, he interfaces with Middle-earth (and the Reader) almost entirely through servants and underlings, second hand accounts, stories and legends, fear of The Eye. This Sauron is practically a gestalt entity, a negative space giving shape to terror.

How long has it been since he encountered another on honest terms? If he cannot honestly encounter another being in the world on honest terms, how can he fulfill the relational role his name implies? What happens to The Admirable when no one can truly see him any longer, when no one can admire him (to say nothing of will)? And what might that tell us about what he called himself to himself? About what name he associated with “I”?

Consider for a moment Treebeard, whose name grew longer over the ages and became like a story, listing out his relation to all the other things in the world with which he had meaningful contact. Or perhaps Tom Bombadil. In The Flame Imperishable Jonathan McIntosh explains Tom’s confusion at the repeated questions about who he is in this way: “Goldberry and Tom are referring to the mystery of names. See and ponder Tom’s words in Vol. I p. 142. [‘Tell me, who are you, alone, yourself and nameless?’]. You may be able to conceive of your unique relation to the Creator without a name... But as soon as you are in a world of other finites with a similar, if each unique and different, relation to Prime Being, who are you?”

What about those “other finites” each “unique and different”?

Those who fall under the force of Sauron’s dominating will all seem to forget their names. The Mouth no longer knows his, I suspect the Nazgûl don’t either. They are no longer “others finites” that Sauron might relate to. They are extensions of him, perhaps less literally than the orc armies that sway and lose their nerve for battle when Sauron takes his attention off them, but they are extensions of him nonetheless. The Mouth of Sauron has even transformed his identity such that he is a part of Sauron’s body!

Near the beginning of this essay I mentioned the presence of Sauron in “Sméagol’s other self.” Sméagol had spent hundreds of years alone with nothing to talk to but the Ring, the distillation of some significant portion of Sauron’s being. Sméagol’s conflation of “I” and “we”, himself and the Ring, is about more than just the dangers of long-term isolation. It is the burden of the Ring that has subsumed and overwritten his sense of “I.” This would be the ultimate fate of all beings in the world under Sauron’s dominion. Sauron may still recognize he is “in a world of beings,” but his end goal requires they no longer be “each unique and different.” Ultimately his domination will require the erasure of their fundamental and authentic who as well.

Like the solipsistic dyad that is Sauron and the Ring, Sauron’s last Fall is a vicious circle in which the world becomes him and he becomes nothing, no longer able to be related to by others and no longer perceiving authentic others to relate to. He has burned the bridge at both ends and now his ability to exist in a relationship with other beings, the thing that gave him his identity as Admirable, has been destroyed. Maybe that means that Once-Mairon, or the part of him brooding in the top of his fortress, needs no name to refer to “I” in the dark corners of his mind.

Maybe he truly did become nameless, even to himself.

----------

Addendum

Some time between 2007 and 2015, I must have encountered some bit of the relevant PE17 passage...somewhere...possibly on a Tolkien wiki or someone’s blog post, but it was distinctly only that part that tells us that “Tar-Mairon (King Excellent)” was what he called himself around the time of Numenor, not that it was his original name. This, in isolation, sounded so suitably narcissistic that I assumed, at the time, that it must simply be the name he adopted at some point during his Second Age empire building. I didn’t think much more of it.

Weirdly, I actually have a very vivid memory of reading this not online but in (I thought) Sauron Defeated. I even have a clear mental picture of how the sentence looked on the page, as part of one of Christopher’s notes on the content of “The Notion Club Papers.” And yet...there’s nothing in there. My mind, it seems, has created an entirely different origin for that bit of information.

Human memory is terrifying.

Lastly, hey, if you got this far, thank you for reading! I started writing portions of this particular piece in a state of shock about 7 years ago, long before I knew what “metas” even were; I just haven’t had the emotional will to finish it for the last 2 or 3 years.

Part 5 of this series (A Wizard, a Demon, a Cat, a Reformer, a Satanist, and a Bureaucrat) will happen. I hope before the end of the month, but I am really gonna try to shoot for “less than 7 years from now.”

Notes

Discussed here: The Inverted Mountain. This is, incidentally, the one and only place in the narrative where where the narrator gives us a peak at what Sauron is actually thinking.

Someone wrote a bit about this: that Sauron in The Lord of the Rings could be seen as more acutely present and embodied in the text via these metaphors, as separated limbs and parts. Does anyone know who I am thinking of? I would love to remember where that thought originally came from so that I can give this person credit.

Discussed here: Tolkien the Horror Writer

This isn’t strictly true depending on what you accept as “canon.” This next part isn’t an original observation of mine, but as before I can’t remember whose observation it is (help? Where did I read this?): again depending on what you accept as “canon,” Sauron represents the only person in the Legendarium to have actively participated, like Tolkien, himself, in conlanging, a kind of “ordering of reality,” discussed here: Ordering Reality.

”Which... *averts eyes* ... *slowly crawls under covers* ... *then under bed* ... *digging sounds* ... *mumbles from the center of the Earth* I edited a few times back in the day.

Tolkien, via Pengolodh, states in the Essay “Quendi and Eldar: Note on the ‘Language of the Valar’” that the names given for the Ainur, with the exception of Oromë, are not their right names (which they do not share) but rather their titles. However, these titles nevertheless were awarded due to said Ainu’s characteristics and nature. This revelation naturally leads to the question of who gave them their titles. If some names come from the Valarin, then presumably they either titled themselves or each other—that is, unless we are to understand that the Quendi gave them titles based on their functions which were then translated back into Valarin.

Helge Fauskanger, “A Name for the Dark Lord”.

This passage appears to have been conceived very near to its final form from the very first extant draft of this conversation, before the conversation even fit within the narrative of the greater story: “Bingo drew the Ring out of an inner pocket, and looked at it. It was plain and smooth without device, emblem, or rune; but it was of gold, and as he looked at it it seemed to Bingo that its colour was rich and beautiful, and its roundness perfect. It was very admirable and wholly precious” (HoMe VI: The Return of the Shadow “Of Gollum and the Ring”). To be clear I’m not suggesting that Tolkien had the name “Mairon” in mind when he wrote the first draft of the passage from “Shadow of the Past” or even had those qualities in mind as representative of some early and unstained iteration of his villain. I suspect Bingo’s reaction to the Ring is simply Bingo’s reaction to a powerful and malevolent object.

In “Robot,” the first episode of Doctor Who to feature actor Tom Baker in the lead role, the newly regenerated Doctor tells his soon-to-be companion, UNIT Medical Officer Harry Sullivan, "You may be A doctor, but I'm THE Doctor - the definite article, you might say."

Several come from HoMe X: Morgoth’s Ring, Part Two: “The Annals of Aman.”

More here: Fixation and Attachment Can Lead to Missing Fingers

There is one caveat to this: Tolkien mentions Sauron one last time in a note on a draft of “The Fall of Gondolin” where he appears to be considering whether it was Sauron and not just orcs who was responsible for capturing Maeglin and bringing him to Angband. This would have been well after Sauron’s retreat to Taur-nu-Fuin. Could Sauron have seen this as his chance to re-enter Morgoth’s presence in triumph rather than defeat?

More on that in the previous entry in this series: part 3

After reading the early drafts of The Hobbit, I’ve been convinced that the earliest iteration of The Necromancer was conceived as being the character Thu who has retreated to Taur-nu-Fuin (called Mirkwood by Wizards, Dwarves, and Hobbits in this draft) post his defeat by Luthien. These earliest drafts of The Hobbit were written before there appears to have been any concept of a Second or Third Age, so their temporal and geographic location seems to be Beleriand sometime during the First Age or just after.

The question of why The Mouth of Sauron uses “Sauron” to identify the Dark Lord when addressing Gandalf and company at the end of Book V if Sauron does not permit his subjects to use this name has been addressed numerous times in fan spaces, and these discussions have generated a number of plausible explanations. Perhaps certain high-ranking subjects are permitted to use this name under special circumstances, such as when addressing persons in the West who knew The No-Longer Admirable as “Sauron”—this is the explanation that Hammond and Scull seem to land on in their Companion and Guide. It is not hard to believe that Sauron would control his image differently depending on who that image was facing; he’s a skilled propaganda artist after all, and the fear factor would have taken on a different flavor depending on where it was directed. It’s also possible that the Mouth’s comments can be written off as an authorial invention of whoever Tolkien wants us to believe “wrote” or at least “told” that part of the story (Pippin?). Said author may have chosen to use the name “Sauron” in place of whatever name The Mouth actually used in order to maintain consistency in the narrative.

#tolkien #sauron #silmarillion #the lord of the rings #mairon #annatar #linguistics #ainur #maiar #parma eldalamberon 17 #thank god that's done #seriously if you want a more enjoyable and less dry analysis of his name and nature just go read These Gifts That You Have Given Me #which remains the best scholarly exploration of Sauron through creative writing that I have ever read #like seriously the first time I read it it was like checking off all these points regarding sauron and his nature #and I was just nodding my head for months and going yes someone gets it thats it exactly #like single best interpretation of the whole sauron wants to be but is terrified of being seen

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oh-look-car-horns · 2 months

Text

Wondering what boop count your 3 letter word corresponds to? I gotchu:

Using a python script I wrote, I booped myself 50,000 times, saving an image of my boop-o-meter every 500 boops. Before we get into the results, there are two important limitations to this study that I should mention:

Firstly, because I only recorded the boop-o-meter every 500 boops, if a message appeared for less than 500 boops it may not have been caught.

Secondly, every now and then my computer would lose a boop or two when a click wouldn't register. This is seen in the 500 and 1000 boop images below, which in reality read 498 and 994 respectively. Because of this, boop values are slightly lower than they appear.

With that out of the way, lets dig in.

0-999:

From boops 0-999, the boop-o-meter displays your boop count, and changes color as you boop

Boop count: 0 Boop count: 500 Boop count: 1000

Boop fact: the colors do not change after 1000

LOL:

Between boops 1000 and 1500, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'LOL'. This likely took place at 1000 boops, but maybe it said 'MAX' or sumn for awhile at first? Idk this is already the misinformation website so not my problem.

Boop count: 1500 (actually more like 1490 ish)

More results below the cut

OMG:

Between 1500 and 2000, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'OMG'. Again, this probably happened at 1500 but who knows. Maybe staff made it 1523 for the bit or something.

Boop count: ~2000

WOW:

The boop-o-meter remained at omg until the 3500 boop readpoint, when it switched to 'WOW', meaning this transition happens somewhere between ~2980 and ~3480.

Boop count: ~3500

Boop fact: 'WOW' is the second longest reigning message

*-*:

Between 5000 and 5500 the boop-o-meter switched to '*-*'. You get the idea at this point so I'll speed it up.

Boop count: ~5500

WHY:

The boop-o-meter changed to 'WHY' between 6000 and 6500 boops. For science. That's why.

Boop count: ~6500

PLZ:

Next was 'PLZ', switching between 7000 and 7500.

Boop count: ~7500

AAA:

I'm not sure what bloody urine has to do with anything, but for some reason staff felt is was important to display, switching between 7500 and 8000.

Boop count: ~8000

;_;:

Huh the colon makes that one look weird. 8000-8500.

Boop count: ~8500

Boop fact: That fucking cat haunts me in my dreams

0_0:

I realized after I set my pyautogui script running that my computer wouldn't turn off its screen because of the clicking, so there was a strobing blue light in my room all night. This encapsulated my expression while trying to sleep (8500-9000).

Boop count: ~9000

MAX:

After 9000 it displayed 'MAX'. This was cap. (9000-9500 switch).

Boop count: OVER 9000 (9500)

<33:

I miss my wife. 9500-10,000.

Boop count ~10,000

TUM BLR:

THE HOLY GRAIL. The boop-o-meter switched to displaying 'TUM BLR' between 10,000 and 10,500 boops. Because my actual boop count was slightly behind my theoretical, I'd guess that this change happened at 10,000 boops.

Boop count: ~10,500 (likely switched at 10,000)

Summary:

When charted the boop curve looks as follows:

Boop curve: 0 - 10,000 boops

My script continued to run until 53,000 boops, but no further changes were observed. Again, there were quite possibly more messages at lower boop values, but my ass is not checking. Maybe I should have scaled my sampling accordingly, but it is what it is. Thank you for joining me on this journey, and if you have any corrections or more information, please add it to this post.

Boop fact: Terfs DNI

#boop #boop o meter #april fools #april fool's day #april fools day #python

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luveline · 17 days

Note

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.”

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.”

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.”

“What channel did you say it was on?”

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.”

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention.

She whips her head to follow him.

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before.

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is.

“Should we go help?” Emily asks.

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found.

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief.

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe.

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says.

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello.

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?”

“That’s the right one, the very first door.”

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.”

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock.

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.”

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you.

You let it happen. “I hate your building.”

“What the hell?” Emily whispers.

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.”

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow.

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers.

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?”

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?”

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks.

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.”

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does.

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.”

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.”

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.”

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.”

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.”

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.”

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.”

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated?

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.”

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.”

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office.

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father.

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.”

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.”

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?”

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?”

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?”

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.”

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?”

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it.

“I thought you said Rain.”

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.”

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing.

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite.

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise.

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.”

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.”

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go.

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?”

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.”

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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5sospenguinqueen · 2 months

Text

Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

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animeismyhappyplace · 4 months

Text

The Devil's Salvation

Synopsis: Lucifer's heart is hurting due to the recent extermination. In an effort to help shift some of the pain Y/N, his assistant, attempts to distract him with her body.

Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel.

Word Count: 5K (5,930)

Trigger warnings: 18+ only!!!

Boss/employee relationship, power imbalance, biting, marking, hickies, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, brief oral (m.recieving), sex on furniture, cowgirl, dick riding, possessive language, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweets, dear), fluffy ending, some Dom/sub/switch undertones, descriptive sex scene, Lucifer is a total cutie, some very minimal angst directed at extermination day rather than the characters.

The sky in Hell is dark and bleeding red as another extermination comes to its gruesome end.

Lucifer is slumped over his desk with a sour expression on his face as he throws one of his rubber ducks across the room "another year, another fucking blood bath" he grumbles to himself as he hears footsteps coming to his invention room.

He hears a few knocks as a soft voice breaks the silence "it's over Lucifer, can I come in?" His assistant Y/N asks quietly.

Lucifer's red eyes light up as his mood perks up "of course dear! Come in, come in~" He leans back in his chair, letting loose a small yawn scrunching his nose as he does.

He glances at the rubber duck laying on the ground, and then back at the woman in front of him "what brings you to my office?.." His voice remains soothing as he finally looks at her properly for the first time that day, she's wearing a red dress shirt with a matching striped skirt pretty similar to what he is wearing ‘cute, very cute’ he can't help but think with a small smile. Her dog-like ears flat against her head as she bows to him.

"I wanted to check on you sir, I know extermination days are taxing on your health" she frowns as she takes in his appearance, his hat has been placed on his desk, his staff nowhere to be seen and his eyes have large bags under them.

Lucifer gives out a soft chuckle, before putting one hand to his temple "yes, yes thank you for your concern, my dear. You are right, these kinds of days can be exhausting to say the least"

He glances at her noticing her ears still firmly pinned to her head so he tries to offer a small smile but it doesn't seem to work very well, she can see right through him.

"It's reassuring to know that someone cares about me in this shit hole, you're truly the best assistant I could ask for”

A small blush settles on her cheeks and her ears perk up a little as she shakes her head dismissively "it's my job to worry about you sir" she chuckles softly almost under her breath.

"As per usual for this time of year I've cleared your schedule so you have no commitments for the rest of the day" she's smiling as she speaks but Lucifer notices her brow is furrowed ever so slightly.

Lucifer raises his eyebrow, taking notice of the sour look on her face.

“Your concern is appreciated, and I’m grateful to have you by my side"

He pushes himself forward in his rather large chair and sighs.

"It’s nice that you cleared my schedule for me... I need a rest”

His tone remains soft with a subtle hint of affection, but his attention is captured by your worried expression.

"What’s wrong?" He asks in a soft tone.

Her eyes slide off to the side focusing on one of the mountains of rubber ducks, she sighs as she collects her thoughts before looking back at his scarlett eyes.

"The head exterminator, Adam, has made contact sir and he wants to meet. Wouldn't tell me why though" her brow furrows again more deeply this time as anxiety sinks into her heart.

Lucifer frowns as he processes the information.

"Adam made contact?" He takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

"And... he didn't tell you why?" Lucifer's voice has a slight hint of suspicion, and his expression turns more serious as Y/N shakes her head solemnly

"No, he refused to answer my questions, just said "arrange the meeting bitch" and flew off with the others" her nose crinkles in disgust as she thinks back to the arsehole angel.

Lucifer grunts in frustration as he stands up from his chair.

"That man sure is arrogant... but this is rather suspicious” Lucifer strokes his chin, pondering this sudden event.

"I'll take care of it, no need for you to worry~" Lucifer offers a reassuring smile and a gentle pat to her head, although the frown on his face shows a hint of his frustration.

Y/N starts to speak but thinks better of it as she watches Lucifer pull out his phone while walking into the hallway.

He comes back a few minutes later and explains that his daughter Charlie will be taking charge of the meeting so she can pitch her hotel to the angels. Y/N nods in understanding as he speaks.

"I'm sure she'll do brilliantly sir" Y/N smiles and Lucifer can't help but smile back at the young assistant, and chuckles at her words.

"Charlie will do great," Lucifer agrees "She's certainly more than capable of handling the meeting"

As Lucifer talks, he starts to pace around the room, his gaze distant as he thinks to himself.

The young woman tilts her head to the side slightly as she watches her boss "what's on your mind sir?" She presses gently, taking note he seems more lost in thought than usual.

Lucifer's eyes trail back to his assistant.

"I'm just thinking, my dear. It's strange that the head exterminator would make contact as opposed to showing up at the doors" Lucifer's brow was still in a puzzled expression.

Without much detail he continues to speak, sounding more concerned "It's.. not a great sign.. something's wrong, I feel it in my bones..”

Y/N walks towards Lucifer and takes a hold of the cuff of his pearly white jacket gently.

"Please stop worrying sir, I'm sure Charlie will do fabulously at this meeting and you'll know soon enough what Adam's plans are. Please sit and rest"

She pleads as she gently guides him back to his chair. Lucifer's eyebrows raise at her sudden action, but his eyes warmth and comfort as she urges him to sit back down.

"You're right.. I'm just letting my depression get the better of me HA HA” he tries to fake a laugh but it's hopeless, and walks back to his chair, sitting down.

There is a long stretch of silence, but he gives her a charming smile, offering one last glimpse of comfort.

“Thank you, my dear”

"of course sir, let me get you something to drink"

She bows as she leaves his study to find something to calm his nerves

Lucifer leans back into his seat, the tension slowly receding as he waits for her to come back. He glances at the rubber duck still lying on the floor, and rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. Despite his efforts to stay calm, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about this whole predicament.

Y/N returns quickly with some tea "this should help soothe some of your worries sir" she smiles as she pours him a cup of the warm beverage. Lucifer nods, his smile growing as he sees the cup in her hands.

"Thank you, my dear. You know, you're very perceptive of my needs.. I'm quite lucky to have you as my assistant" he says as he takes the cup from you.

She smiles brightly while nodding "I should hope so Lucifer sir, I've been working for you pretty much since I arrived in Hell"

Y/N clears away some of the papers scattered across his desk, keeping them safely to the side so as to not potentially spill tea on them.

Lucifer chuckles as he takes small sips of the tea, his eyes taking in the details of her movements as she clears up his desk.

"Indeed you have, you've been the best assistant I could ask for.."

Lucifer's tone is much warmer now, and he takes a big sip before continuing.

"Although I suppose I've never asked, how long have you been here in Hell in total?”

"Only a few years now but I guess it's not so bad down here, especially since I get to work for you" she smiles as she holds the tray the tea was on to her chest waiting for him to finish up. Lucifer's cheeks heat up as smiles, taking a few more sips and finishing up the tea.

"Well... I suppose I can't argue with that, especially when you say it so sweetly" Lucifer chuckles, brushing his hand through his golden hair.

"It's good that you feel right at home here. I'll admit, Hell can be a bit... overwhelming when you first get here”

Y/N clears away his used cup and places it off to the side as she's cleaning up she notices him walking up to a large window, looking down at the carnage left behind by the angels with a deep frown set into his usually delicate features.

"Sir?" She asks softly as she sees his shoulders tense up.

Lucifer pauses at the window, taking in the destruction as the bodies litter the streets.

His mood seems to have shifted dramatically from his previous lightheartedness, as his expression becomes very serious.

He glances back at Y/N, taking notice of her concerned glances.

"Hm?..." Lucifer says, his tone sounding rather calm "oh, it's nothing. Just.. observing, is all.”

Y/N sighs sadly before joining him at the window to see what he's looking at and when she does, she understands.

She can see the devastation left behind, sinners dead bodies piling up, the streets ablaze as overlords fight for new unclaimed territories. She can see the weight it leaves on his heart.

"This was never what I wanted you know all those years ago" he sighs but doesn't look at her, even with his attention fixed outside she can see the hurt swirling in his usually shining eyes.

Y/N lifts her hand tentatively to Lucifer's back in an effort to comfort him, even if it's only for a moment.

Lucifer turns his focus from the carnage back to the younger woman, and is caught slightly off guard by her sudden and kind gesture.

Lucifer’s red eyes are full of sorrow as he looks back at her, the weight of his burden clearly settling on his soul.

As her hand rests upon his back, he finds himself calming down, almost as if just her touch was enough to soothe some of his suffering.

"you can't blame yourself sir, you couldn't have known what would happen" ears twitching as she frowns at his pained expression, rubbing slow circles against his back.

Lucifer sighs sharply, leaning his back against her hand as she calms him with soft circular motions.

"You're right, I couldn't.. but I still do..." Lucifer mutters, his voice sounding much softer now.

There is a brief moment of silence, where he appears to just absorb the comforting warmth coming from her touch.

"That's a lot of weight to carry... even for a king" her hand stills on his back for a moment as she pulls away moving back towards his desk away from the window.

"I have a feeling things are going to change, very soon sir. Thanks you and your family" Y/N smiles as she rests against the edge of his desk.

Lucifer’s eyes dart over to her as she steps back and leans on his desk, his smile returning slightly at her optimistic words.

"Yes, I have that feeling too...."

Lucifer mutters thoughtfully.

"But regardless of what comes, I hope that you will always be here by my side, helping me carry whatever weight the future holds..." Lucifer says, his voice sounding slightly solemn yet also reassuring.

"You're my king Lucifer, I will be here as long as you desire" as silence slips between them Y/N clears her throat before speaking again "I'd say you use a distraction right about now sir"

A sweet and genuine smile touches Lucifer's lips as he raises an eyebrow.

"A distraction?.." Lucifer's voice is

playful as the gears start turning in his head.

She hums sweetly as her fingers drum anxiously against Lucifer's desk her eyes on his carpeted flooring "well Lilith has been gone for years now, you've been alone all that time"

Her eyes flit up to look at him "you must have been so lonely sir, you should look into fixing that" she watches for any changes to his body language with a barely hidden smirk.

Lucifer takes a moment to digest her words letting out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.

"You're being rather bold my dear..."

Lucifer smiles softly while shaking his head with his eyebrows raised and a blush spreads across his pale cheeks

"Ah.. well.. I've not been entirely alone now, have I?..." His tone is playful, but she can feel the flirtatious nature behind them.

She bites her lip while smiling "you're right Lucifer, I've been right here"

She bats her eyelashes at him acting as sweetly as she can whilst pushing herself just off the edge of his large desk "and I'll always be right by your side sir"

As she bats her eyelashes at him he chuckles, a blush deepening his cheeks slightly.

There's a brief pause as his eyes scan over her body, taking notice of the cute way she's leaning on his desk. He speaks coyly back at her.

"Is that so?"

"Tell me dear, if I... needed someone to lean against.. would you be ready?”

Y/N leans forward to grasp his hand gently so he could pull away at any time "haven't I already shown I'm ready to stay by your side?"

She looks into his eyes as she tugs on his hand prompting him to come closer "I know how much Lilith leaving hurt you but I wouldn't do that ever"

Lucifer's heart skips a beat as he watches her take his hand, tugging him inches closer.

It takes him a moment, but Lucifer gently pulls her closer, until she is right in front of him, their bodies almost touching.

His breath catches as his eyes stare back at her doe like expression, he can't quite believe how cute she looks right now, her nose almost touching his own. Lucifer pauses, and glances down at her lips. His eyes flicker from her lips, and back to her eyes.

"You really won't, will you..?" Lucifer mutters quietly, sounding a bit breathless.

"The sweetest sinner in all of Hell" he almost whispers with a smile as his hands cup her face, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her cheeks

His tenderness shocks her though it really shouldn't for how long she's known him and she closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying their closeness and his tender touches

Her hands sneak up to his red striped dress shirt, pulling him ever closer bridging the gap between their bodies. Her lips stop just short of his own, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath.

She looks into his eyes and waits for him to decide if he really wants this, wants her.

Lucifer's heart almost stops as she pulls him close, his mind spinning rapidly making him dizzy as he realises how long it's been since he's felt affection like this. His eyes fixate on her cherry red lips, watching as she gets so close he can feel her body heat. He hesitates for a moment as he worries what will happen if things go wrong but he leans forward needing to take this risk.

Lucifer closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her so tenderly as though she'll break the second he lets go, and his hands grip her body tightly, pulling her even closer.

Y/N's hands grip Lucifer's waist as his hands move to pull her face closer, deepening their kiss.

Her chest is heaving slightly as he kisses her with more passion than she's ever felt, leaving her breathless.

Her cheeks are a deep shade of pink when Lucifer finally pulls away, she giggles as he bites his lip red irises watching her intently

Lucifer's breath is still staggered as he pulls away from her lips, red-faced and blushing. He pulls himself away from her, as a light-hearted grin spreads across his cheeks.

His eyes glance down to her lips, and his brows raise.

"It seems my assistant has gotten a bit too familiar with me~..." Lucifer teases with a playful smirk.

She gasps pushing at his chest playfully while giggling at his teasing words "who in Hell could blame me when my boss looks like this"

She bites her lip as she intertwines their fingers pulling him towards the lavish chair seated behind his desk, she gestures for him to sit as her hungry eyes rake down his form.

Lucifer chuckles as he allows her to pull him towards the chair. As he sits down comfortably, he notices the way she's looking at him and he smiles, his golden eyebrows raising up in a flirtatious manner. He gives her a playful wink.

"You're a real handful, my dear.. I hope you know that?”

She smirks as she climbs into his lap, licking her lips as he lets out a surprised grunt "oh I'm counting on it sir"

A sly smile forms on Lucifer's face as he glances up at her.

He lets out a little laugh, amused at her boldness. His hands trail softly up and down her sides, his fingers tracing little circles against her skin as he bites his lip muttering with a grin "fuck sweetheart you're going to be the death of me”

Y/N shifts slightly once in his lap, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable, looping her hands around his neck as she steals his lips in another kiss.

Her tongue licks over his bottom lip as he hungrily accepts her affections.

Lucifer's body immediately responds to her touch, his entire frame heating up as she kisses and nibbles softly at his lip.

His fingers tighten around her hips, pulling her closer, and his other hand trails her body from her hips all the way to her neck.

Lucifer pulls back ever so slightly, his breath staggered, feeling as if he might melt from the heat rising between them.

"You're lucky I don't get visitors often sweetheart, who knows what vicious rumors would be spread if you were caught in my lap" Lucifer mumbles in between kisses.

Y/N's kisses trail across Lucifers lips to his rosy cheeks then down to his jaw as she starts nibbling at the delicate flesh "I'm sure you'd find a way to silence them"

Hearing Lucifer's sinful groans, her hips start to gently rock back and forth as her tongue laps at his neck, sucking harshly in the places that make his groans deepen.

Lucifer's breath catches in his throat as his back arches slightly with every gentle kiss. Just the feel of her breathing heavily against his neck drives him crazy, the heat rushing through his body and spreading like a fever.

He bites his lip to prevent himself from letting out any more noises, his head lolling back slightly as she sucks on his neck. A breathy groan escapes him without notice, as his breathing grows more rapid, his cheeks redder.

"f-fuck I need..." He whines as his hands fly out to grip steady onto her hips, grinding the growing tent in his pants up against her.

Her skirt starts to ride up as his body jolts from the stimulation, her breaths leaving her throat in hiccups as she feels him poking at her inner thighs.

"L-Luci~" she moans breathlessly, her hips stuttering as he rubs against her clothed core.

Lucifer's jaw muscles tighten as he grips her body tighter, almost going mad listening to her sweet sounds.

Her voice sounds like a soothing melody to his ears, and he can't hold himself back any longer. He begins to kiss her throat, and even licks the skin between her neck and shoulder biting softly.

Y/N whines as he teases her body, lolling her head back to give him more space to mark her neck and shoulder.

Lucifer pulls back once he's satisfied with his work eyeing the claim he's laid on her body. Her breath catches in her throat as he lifts her from his lap onto his desk.

"My dear, I dare say you've never looked more divine than you do right now" he bites his lip as she's laid out before him, her chest heaving and her legs spread as he slots himself between her thighs.

Y/N runs her fingertips along the edge of her skirt before she starts to slowly and teasingly tug it upwards revealing more of her body to her king.

Lucifer watches her slowly and teasingly tug your skirt up with interest. His eyes trailing up her body, taking in every inch of her skin as she reveals more of herself to his greedy eyes.

A breathy groan escapes him at the sight as he grips the meat of her thighs tightly. Spreading her legs out as he licks his lips at the damp patch on her underwear a low whimper escapes his throat "you'll surely drive me mad, sweetheart"

He utters softly, as a blush spreads across his cheeks. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. Her cheeks heat up at his sultry words making her whine in embarrassment and hunger "Luci please"

Her hands reach out to grasp at this forearms, gripping tightly as she tries to wiggle her hips looking for some attention to be paid to her heated skin.

Lucifer's mouth twitches at the pure desperation in her eyes, his hands trailing up and down her legs before moving back to the top of her thighs to her thighs. He gives them both a quick squeeze, drawing her attention back towards him.

His soft whispers carry a hint of playful teasing.

"Pretty desperate for my attention huh?" Lucifer asks in a low voice as his red eyes watch her reactions carefully.

She nods helplessly as her eyes fog up with unshed tears, his teasing touches pure torture as his fingers leave heat and desire everywhere they touch.

"N-need you to do something, anything... Please baby" she pleads as her arms reach up above her head to grasp at the edge of his desk.

Lucifer bites his lip, and he can't help just how much her words excite him... her hunger is so apparent, so raw, and the way she begs for what she wants does nothing to help the problem in his pants.

He leans in closer, his eyes darting to her neck and jaw before he quickly dips his head down, his mouth placing a short peck of a kiss just above her collarbone.

His kisses continue down her body until he reaches the band of her panties. He gives her one firm look, as if to say ‘tell me know if you need to stop’, but she shakes her head and lifts her hips, wiggling them teasingly making him smirk.

"Who knew my soft spoken assistant would be so greedy?" he mutters with a smile as his thumb pushes into the wet spot on her panties making her gasp at the sudden stimulation. Enjoying her reaction he moves his thumb up slightly to rub against her clothed clit, grinning widely when her thighs tremble.

"This is what you wanted right sweetheart? wanted my fingers to play with your cute little pussy?"

Her head nods aggressively as she bites down on her tongue to stifle the wanton moans waiting to escape.

She can't help but rock her hips forward against his hand wanting more, needing more as her skin feels like it's been set alight with passion and desire.

Lucifer chuckles softly as he watches her squirm under his touch, licking his lips as he feels her slick coat his thumb.

"Ah ah ah, you need to use your big girl words if you want something from me" he grins wickedly.

"Need your fingers Luci" she pouts cutely when he raises his eyebrow at her.

A smirk spreads across his pink cheeks as he pulls her panties down her legs and throws them off to the side, sucking in a breath as he admires her naked body, wetness and need shining across her skin "Yeah? where do you need me hmm?"

A stray tear streaks down her cheeks as she whines "n-need your fingers in my pussy, fuck please Luci! I-I need-"

Lucifer grins wickedly as he watches her squirm under his gaze, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip of her nose then to her cheek and he even places a soft kiss on her fluffy ears before straightening back up. He smirks at her desperation, sliding his fingers into her dripping pussy and grinning widely as she lets out a shaky moan.

Y/N's head lolls back and her eyes roll as she finally gets the stimulation she needed, whines tumbling out of her strained throat as her hands turn white from her gripping so hard at his desk "f-fuckk..."

Lucifer watches her closely, his fingers curling inside her wet heat, relishing in the way she squirms and begs for more.

He leans down once more, his lips brushing against her neck as he murmurs, "Talk to me sweetheart... Tell me how good I make you feel?"

His fingers curl upwards his thumb swipes across her clit making her almost cry as the pleasure wrecks through her shaking body.

Her thighs shake as sweat starts to pool against her forehead, her hips bucking wildly at the onslaught of pleasure Lucifer is giving her "I- you- fuuck so fucking good, love your t-thick fingers Luci”

Lucifer chuckles softly, pleased by her response as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her wet pussy faster, his thumb continuing to tease her clit with feather-light touches.

He can't help but lean down to place another kiss on her collarbone. His teeth graze along the soft skin, eliciting a shiver from his lover.

Y/N's sweet moans and the wet squelches of her abused pussy fill the quiet room, a strangled cry leaves her chapped lips as his fingers bump a spongy spot in her tight walls, he almost stops his movements as the realisation hits making him chuckle "Theree it is, that's the spot yeah sweetheart?"

She rocks her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers as her moans pitch up in volume, she can't help but babble as the pleasure builds "there.... fuck d-don stop" another desperate whine "gonna cum... fuck! fuck! FUCK!”

Lucifer smirks as he watches her lose control, her body arching off the desk in search of more pleasure. His fingers curled deeper inside her, finding that spot again and again as he relished in the power he held over her.

Her eyes roll back as her walls clamp down on his fingers, his thumb rubbing tight circles over her throbbing clit until her high slowly ends.

Her breathing is erratic as her high tingles over her limbs before slowly ebbing away leaving her body limp, when her eyes can fully focus she sees Lucifer slurping up the wetness coating his fingers.

The sight alone is so sinful it sends fresh waves of need flooding through her veins as her hands reach out for him.

Lucifer grins mischievously, watching her every move. He licks his fingers clean with a soft moan, savoring the taste of her on his tongue.

"You're irresistible," he murmurs, his voice rough with need.

She gently guides Lucifer down to sit in the plush chair "your turn baby~"

Y/N licks her lips as she sinks to her knees before him, running her hands over his strong thighs. Slowly moving her way up until her fingers hit his pristine white belt, she discards it off to the side of the room as she works on pulling down his suit pants, smiling sinfully as she notices the wet spot soaking through his boxers.

Lucifer groans softly as he feels her hands on him, his cock twitching in anticipation. He watches her with hooded eyes, a mix of desire and possession in their depths. Her thumb rubs over the wet spot making his hips jump at the sudden pleasure.

"You like making me cum on your fingers this much Luci?" she grins as she flicks her tongue over the wetness moaning softly at the first taste of his pre.

"I love seeing you so submissive, it drives me wild," he answers, his voice deep and husky. He watches her hungrily, his eyes locked on the sight of her teasing his cock “and those cute little moans you let out? Truly sinful baby”

She hums to herself as she pulls the suffocating materiel down his legs joining the growing pile on the floor, her eyes widening as she takes in the size of his cock for the first time mumbling more to herself than to him "such a pretty cock”

His eyes squeeze shut tightly as her delicate fingers reach out to explore his body, her pink tongue licks up the length of his cock so suddenly it makes Lucifer suck in a breath as he groans "definitely going to be the death of me sweetheart... f-fuck~"

His cute reaction makes her smile and raises her confidence. This time she flattens her tongue, rolling it over his slit taking the time to lick up all the precum drooling over his cock head, moaning as it coats her tongue and bottom lip.

Lucifer's breath hitches at the sensation, his hips jerking forward almost involuntarily. He bites his lip, trying to keep control as she lavishes him with her attention "such a good fucking girl f'me"

His soft grunts and groans raise in volume as she starts to suck on his swollen heads, flicking her tongue over his slit as her hands pump his length "f-feels too good baby... You gotta stop or I'll cum too quick, wanna cum in your pretty little pussy"

She giggles but concedes giving him one last long lick up the length of his cock following the thick veins she finds before she allows him to lift her onto his lap.

Once settled she gives him a deep passionate kiss tasting herself on his tongue as his hand dips between their bodies to line himself up, rubbing his cock over her clit once then twice before finally sinking into her tight pussy.

Lucifer's hands grasp her hips tightly as he feels himself sinking into her wet heat, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He groans deeply into their kiss, his tongue dancing with hers to muffle their sounds of pleasure.

He holds her hips tightly in place as he fills her up fully "y'gotta stay still for me sweets or I'll finish right now 'kay?"

She nods as she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as she adjusts to his massive size.

Her body shakes as his thumb rubs on her swollen clit making broken moans slip from her throat as he suddenly thrusts his hips upwards making them both groan " 'kay you can move now, you gonna ride me pretty girl?"

Her arms loop around his neck as she starts to slowly lift up then sinking back down so he's filling her to the hilt. After a few slow movements her desperation increases, finding a place to steady both of her feet she starts to bounce on his cock, the angle making his head hit her sweet spot with every thrust.

Sweat starts to coat both of their half naked bodies, pain starting to set into her limbs but the pleasure he's giving her is too good for her to break, her head falls back and his hands grip her waist tight helping her to rock up and down at a steady rhythm.

Lucifer's hands tighten on her waist, one sliding down to the small of her back while the other grips the flesh above her ass cheek as she rides him.

He groans deeply, watching as his cock sinks into her tight walls with every movement and rocking his hips in time with hers "love this tight little pussy~ could have been fucking you like this for years if I'd known how well you take me sweetheart"

Y/N preens at his praise, doubting her efforts. Her throat constricts with every moan but if feels so good she couldn't care less "need you to keep fucking me Luci, love your cock sooo much feels too good”

Lucifer's eyes glow a dark red with lust as he looks up at her, one of his hands sliding up to grab her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples between his fingers the other dripping lower to play with her clit, drilling his hips up into her dripping pussy "I'm not stopping until you cum on my cock sweetheart~”

The pleasure he's giving her is too much for her spent body, her thighs start to shake as the coil tightening in her stomach threatens to snap "yes yes yes Luci baby shit!~ m'close so fucking close" her walls start to calm down on his cock.

"Fuck" he grunts, his thrusts becoming jerkier and harder as he feels her start to tighten around him "Come on sweetheart, let go~ need to feel you cum on my cock~"

He gives her two more powerful thrusts, mumbling words of encouragement in her ear nibbling on her earlobe.

"that's it pretty~ look how your walls are clamping down on me, I'm fucking you so good your body won't let me pull out"

Gasps fall from her lips like the most unholy prayers as her body stills the pleasure flooding wildly through her veins, shaky moans tumbling from her lips as she cries his name over and over until she can barely speak any longer.

Lucifer's thrusts match hers, pounding into her as he feels her walls start to spasm around him. He groans deeply, his own pleasure starting to build as he watches her cum hard on his cock.

He can't help but whine loudly as her orgasm triggers his own, his body shaking as he dumps his load into her quivering walls crying her name as he holds her tight to his body.

Lucifer places soft kisses on each spot of her skin he can reach as she comes down from the high, she returns his affections leaving purple and red blotches down his neck and the along his jaw wanting to show all of Hell her handy work, possessiveness shining in her eyes as she watches his blissed out face.

Lucifer smiles softly at her, his eyes filled with pure adoration. He nuzzles against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to her collarbone.

He hums lowly in his throat, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as he leans in to nip at her neck gently.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, slowly pulling out of her body and readjusting so they're more comfortable.

"You're truly mine, aren't you sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice husky with tiredness.

Her fingers reach upt o cup his face gently as she looks into his eyes "for as long as you'll have me, sir" she winks cheekily at him placing kisses along his jaw hiding her heated cheeks.

Lucifer chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down her sides to soothe her sensitive skin.

"That's my girl," he breathes out before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow deep kiss, lifting her body into his arms to carry her to his bedroom.

Beautiful banner by: @/saradika

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itadorey · 6 months

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𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x gn reader summary: rumor has it you're dating gojo satoru genre: fluff, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, humor(?) notes: i just think he's the type of dude to do this, sort of an au bc geto never goes rogue. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO !! wc: ~1.8k

"hey, wanna go get lunch?"

you come to a stop when you hear a low voice, turning around just in time to see gojo approach you. his hair is styled, you note, white strands falling gracefully and framing his face in a way that you haven't seen since the two of you were in high school. his usual blindfold is nowhere to be seen, and your eyebrows furrow slightly when you notice a new pair of sunglasses perched on the slope of his nose.

"what?"

"do you want to join me for lunch?" he asks, leaning against the wall as you glance at the time on your phone. you tuck it back into your pocket before looking at the folder in your hand, turning to glance in the direction of your office before giving gojo a nod.

"sure! just let me drop this off in my office, yeah?" you say, smiling when he nods in agreement. "i'll be quick and on the way back i'll stop and ask shoko if she wants to join us."

you whirl back around to make your way to your office, only to be stopped when gojo clears his throat.

"actually, i meant you," he begins, shoulders tense as he motions to you with his hand before pointing to himself. "and me. just us getting lunch at that cafe you really like."

"oh! okay, yeah that sounds good," you chirp, feeling slightly confused as you give him a little thumbs up. he relaxes at your words, nodding slightly as he watches you. "i'll be right back and than we can head out!"

gojo's eyes never leave your form as you disappear down the walkway, and he takes a few deep breathes before turning around and slipping his phone out of his pocket before sending a text to shoko and suguru.

satoru: they said yes.

lunch at the cafe ends with you and gojo meeting up at the end of the day and getting dinner as well. it isn't until you're out of breath, laughing way too hard over a silly story gojo shares with you, that you realize that the two of you haven't hung out together in a long time.

high school is probably the last time you can recall going out with gojo alone. the difference in your skill levels meant that the two of you didn't really cross paths after graduating, especially with the way that gojo always seemed to be sent out on mission after mission by the higher ups. any and all hangouts were usually coordinated by shoko or suguru, and most of the time gojo wasn't able to have a full conversation with you due to having to take care of a more-than-tipsy suguru.

you can't help but focus on the way your heart seems to ache with longing as you watch gojo laugh along with you, and it's in that moment that you realize that you've missed the teasing, smug boy that you knew well before life became just a little bit more cruel. the way he looks at you after your laughter dies down makes you wonder if he missed you as well.

"here's your check!"

"oh, thank you," you say to the waiter, reaching over to grab the slim book. gojo's hand intercepts your path, snatching the check presents away before you can even attempt to stop him. "hey!"

"dinner's on me," he says with a grin, sliding his card into the clear sleeve before handing it back to the waiter. your eyes remain locked on gojo even as the waiter walks away, a scowl on your face as you stare him down.

"you paid for lunch," you state, your eyes darting down to his lips when they pull up into a slight smirk.

"yeah."

"so dinner was supposed to be on me," you argue, clamping your mouth shut when the waiter returns with gojo's card. he takes it from him with a smile, messily signing the receipt before sliding out of his seat. his lips part into a handsome grin as he holds an arm out to you, eyes sparkling as he waits for you to link your arm with his. you rise from your seat reluctantly, gingerly slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow and letting him lead you outside.

it isn't until he's holding the door open for you, watching as you cross the threshold, that he finally speaks once more, tilting his face down to let you catch a glimpse of the teasing glint in his eye.

"besides, what kind of date would i be if i let you pay?"

gojo seems to become a permanent fixture in your life after your shared lunch and dinner.

you can't find it in yourself to complain about the new development, especially not when you're standing in your kitchen and you feel gojo's hand press against your lower back as he squeezes past you, giving you a soft smile as he tries to steal a bite of whatever you're cooking. those nights usually end with you swatting at him until you push him out of the kitchen, rolling your eyes and ignoring the way your heart lurches when he wraps his arms around you in a loose hug in an attempt to tug you along with him.

hangouts with shoko and suguru also become more common, and the four of you often find yourselves meeting up for drinks or a movie night, sometimes joined by nanami when he deigns to grace you with his presence. it's during these times that your emotions get the best of you, seeing everyone talking and laughing so happily that it almost feels like nothing ever went wrong. like amanai riko and fushiguro toji never happened.

and when gojo notices your sudden quietness and wordlessly wraps an arm around your shoulders to tuck you close to his side, you feel yourself falling just a little bit more for the white-haired sorcerer.

you're not surprised to find out that somewhere along the way, you've fallen for gojo satoru. a part of you believes that it was inevitable; he's always shone so brightly, drawing people in regardless of whether or not they're aware of the fact. you just happen to be the latest victim.

although your heart yearns to be closer to him, you know that you're content with being nothing more than friends. satoru is someone who is easy to admire, and you're all too happy to admire from a distance, content to bask in the tenderness that accompanies every friendly moment you've shared with him thus far. his status as a special grade sorcerer also takes up a large portion his life, and you fear that attempting to be anything more than friends with him would only end in you being a distraction.

but that all changes three months after the dinner with satoru that started it all.

"you're both late."

"sorry about that!" you apologize, giving shoko a sheepish smile as you slide into the seat satoru had pulled out for you. his knee bumps against your thigh as he takes his own seat, and you feel your smile grow a little wider when he leaves it resting against your own.

"what? were the two of you too busy making out in his car or something?" suguru chimes in, stifling a laugh when he sees your eyes go wide. you don't get the chance to respond as the waiter approaches, and you're saved the embarrassment of attempting to stutter out your drink order when satoru butts in and says it for you.

suguru wiggles his eyebrows playfully as you give him a flat look, and your mild annoyance dissipated when you feel satoru take your hand in his as he begins to play with your fingers. easy conversation begins to flow, and before you know it, you're enjoying your favorite drink and teasing suguru for the things he drunkenly did at your last get-together.

"so," shoko begins once there's a lull in the conversation, eyes glinting mischievously as she lets her gaze flit between you and satoru. "now that it's been a couple months i gotta say, i didn't think satoru would ever actually work up the courage to ask you out to lunch."

"what do you mean?" you ask, missing the way satoru's hand freezes against yours.

"i just didn't think he'd actually go through with it," shoko says with a shrug. "but i gotta say, i'm glad the two of you are dating. you both seem a lot happier lately and it's nice to see."

"dating?" you ask, tensing up at her words. the entire table seems to freeze at your question, and you're met with confused expressions from everyone as you glance around the table.

"yeah," shoko answers cautiously, sharing a bewildered look with suguru.

"what?" you ask dumbly, blinking slowly before turning to satoru just in time to see him nodding. "since when."

"since," shoko says, pulling out her phone and scrolling through some messages. she hums when she finds what she's looking for, turning the screen to show you a message from satoru three months back saying "they said yes". "three months ago according to this text."

"what?" you repeat, shaking your head lightly to try and gather your thoughts.

"yeah," satoru says quietly, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he lets go of your hand. "i asked you out on a date."

"no, you didn't," you say in response, turning your body to face him.

"yes, i did," he insists, running a hand through his hair before pointing to shoko's phone. "three months ago. lunch at the cafe, remember?"

"you asked me to eat lunch with you. you never said it was a date!"

"oh, i didn't?" he asks, head tilting slightly to the side as he tries to remember.

"no!"

"oops!"

"what do you mean 'oops!'," you hiss, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms. "this entire time i've been dealing with my feelings for you only to find out that you've been telling people we've been together this entire time!"

"well is it too late to ask you to accept all our hangouts these past few months as dates?" he asks cheekily, grinning at your confession. you huff at his words, softening slightly when he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder. "please?"

"fine," you mutter, squeaking when he leans up to press a kiss to your cheek. the laughs from shoko and suguru remind you that the two of you aren't alone, and you feel your cheeks heat up when the realization that they've witnessed everything hits.

"well," you start, raising your gaze to finally address shoko's original comment about your (new?) relationship. your breath catches in your throat when satoru lifts your joined hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and earning a smug smile from suguru. "i gotta say, i'm also very glad that the two of us are dating."

satoru snorts at your words, and you roll your eyes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around you. his gaze doesn't leave you as he speaks, even though his words are also in response to shoko.

"yeah, i'm definitely happier."

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk imagine #gojo imagine #gojo satoru imagine

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

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doctor who but i've never watched it

and so it begins again. the people asked for it. the people got it. i will ensure the people regret it.

i have never watched this show, or seen an edit, but i am a thorough researcher and i feel that i've got the essence of it.

this is what i have gathered. academicians worldwide take note.

Firstly, so I don't anger anyone, I accept and acknowledge that the tardis is blue and not yellow. My misinformation was from a Drarry fanfiction, and I had hitherto regarded Drarry fanfiction as the absolute truth.

There are doctors, and there are at least fifteen of them. At least two of them are David Tennant, which I can respect.

I'm not sure why the doctors are doctors, because I can find no trace of any medical procedure except for one doctor who licks things, which he learned from the previous doctor. If this is sufficient reason, I apologise for doubting their credentials.

On the other hand, if they are doctors thanks to a postdoctoral degree, this is also fine, though I have never seen anyone study anything. There is however a doctor, and there were people upset about her, but the fandom pointed out she set the tardis on fire, which is apparently a very doctor thing to do. Setting things on fire is absolutely something any research scholar would love, so again, apologies for doubting their credentials.

At least one doctor is gay. It is probably one of the David doctors, which checks out. He says someone, I think a dentist, is hot. I envy the maybe-dentist.

A t least one doctor is trans. I was unable to find them. But they exist. Oh yes, the fandom assures me they exist.

David Tennant as well as Ncuti Gatwa were fanboys, first of the show, and second of David Tennant, and thus they got into acting. Just a fun tidbit from me, since I am now the authority on this fandom.

There are time machines with which the doctors have sex by piloting them, which is questionable because the time machines are only partially sentient. I am not sure if the time machines are the tardis. But the tardis is blue, and not yellow, of that I am certain.

There was a stage play. Or maybe that was a metaphor for the production budget of the early seasons. I am not sure, but toddler David Tennant watched it. I assume no one took a 3 year old to a stage play, so through scientific deduction, it must have been a metaphor.

At some point, Death is an agony aunt and they have to spill secrets to it, or drown in a lake of human skulls. Who is this they? It's so obvious that the fandom sees no need to explain it, and neither do I. I do know it though. Of that you may remain certain.

A David doctor has a niece and she likes being his niece.

A David doctor has a best friend named Donna. He kisses her head. She supports his fruitiness. It is wholesome. It killed him when he lost her.

Slight tangent, but younger David doctor looks like Andrew Garfield. Current David in photos does give Ben Barnes energy. Any Wolfstar shippers, I believe you've found the Wolfstar kid. It is David Tennant.

A lot of people are David Tennant. A reliable Pinterest post on Doctor Who, clearly well researched, gave me the statistic that 15% of Doctor Who is David Tennant. From the amount of David Tennant that I ran across in my research, I don't understand it but I don't doubt it, either.

Speaking of Andrew Garfield, he in involved in this somehow. I am not sure how, but you cannot escape Andrew Garfield. He is even a part of fandoms he never acted in.

There is an individual named Catherine, I think she is the actress, but she could be a character. She seems to have much less knowledge about Doctor Who lore than I do. David Tennant finds it funny. Maybe he would find me funny, too.

The doctors installed some things in the tardis, from a wheelchair ramp to a jukebox. I don't know why a jukebox was needed. If I'm honest I don't know what a jukebox is. I don't know what the tardis is. But it is blue, and not yellow.

There is a French catchphrase.

Something happens in Wales. I don't know what it is, but something always seems to be happening in Wales in these fandoms, so I don't doubt it.

There is an old Doctor Who in a wheelchair, and he is happy to see a David doctor.

They go around in space, and do things. Who is this they? You and I both know the answer, so we needn't talk about it.

The show intro is "doo wee doo".

There is an alien who is not a mouse, the alien is The Meep, and uses the definite article as pronouns. David doctor is supportive of this, which is very good.

I found baby Yoda in the show, but apparently they call it a 'goblin' there, and someone doesn't like it.

There is a lot to do with time. There is a time hole, and things happen, and people die and are resurrected. There is danger, but it is fun.

They have CGI, and it is not good, which is the best thing about it. Who is they? Please stop asking me. It is rather obvious and something I definitely know.

Someone's boyfriend dies and the boyfriend is then resurrected but then gets lost with his boyfriend but then is reincarnated as a girl who would still call herself the someone's boyfriend but then she is replaced by the boyfriend but he's different now. I apologise for any errors that have crept it, but the tardis is blue and not yellow.

Someone named Martha is a doctor, and someone is very proud of her for it.

The eleventh and twelfth doctors like bow ties.

David Tennant wants to be ginger. David Tennant always gets what he wants. Who can refuse David Tennant? David Tennant is then ginger.

A David doctor gets a happy ending.

Someone yelled at Neil Gaiman about this. It was a mistake. He said that since it had already been done, he wouldn't want to give David's character a happy ending in S3, that would be a trifle unoriginal.

A lesson to be learned, Good Omens fandom, just a bit of advice from your son, do not yell at Neil Gaiman, it does not go well. Rumour has it he murdered the people who complained about him always wearing black. Of course, there is the fact that he doesn't exist, but that doesn't seem to have stopped him.

The doctors manifest in the previous doctor's clothes, which is apparently so last season. The tardis also manifests. I don't know where, or how. But it is blue, and not yellow.

I know, there was a lot of lore, so many of you thought I wouldn't be able to gather it all. But look how much research I did! I've got it better than maybe-actress-maybe-character Catherine, I'm sure :"]

Anyway, all the major plot points are covered above, so anyone who hasn't watched Doctor Who, feel free to refer to this and impress your Whovian friends with your knowledge! [not to be judgemental, but what a dreadfully Dr Seuss name, I rather like it]

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muntitled · 6 months

Note

omg hi pookie bear , hru ?

i’m going feral and have a request <\3 hmm what if anton hasn’t seen his gf in a few months because she stays in the states . they usually make sure to call and check in with each other every night but maybe for the last few days she hasn’t been responding too much but only because she’s flying to go surprise him ! so basically a bit of angst then fluff at the end loll (and a little smut if ur up to it 🤓👆🏾) .

also, can i be 🎀 anon ?!

Of course, my darling! Thank you for the lovely request, I literally had so much fun writing this omg.

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 | 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐞

- Pairings: Anton Lee x Fem!Reader

- Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Codependency, Angst, Jealousy, Relationship Paranoia, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Spitting, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Unprotected Sex, Needy Sex

He wouldn't call himself obsessive.

That's not the correct word. Infatuation would probably best explain the tempest of emotions rattling through his brain when his phone rings, signaling a video call from you.

Sungchan's chest rises and falls with the extremities of their evening workout. He barely keeps himself toppling over when he and the rest of the group watch Anton lumber to his bag in large, quick steps

"Yo?" Sohee asks, anatomically defeated as he races to catch his breath.

"Carry on, without me," Anton throws over his hunched shoulder. He is cupping his phone with both hands when he enters one of the many bathrooms peppered throughout the gym, letting his feet guide him almost robotically into a stall while his finger swipes to answer the video call. At the sight of your relaxed smile, Anton exhales lightly.

He knew it's particularly bad to form dependant relationships, but he couldn't exactly help himself, can he? Your voice is just so light when you say, "Hi," and his is equally shy as he replies with his quiet "Hi yourself."

Anton can not help himself from being so incredibly infatuated. He's diving headfirst into codependency, but hey, at least he is aware.

At least he is aware that he would do quite literally anything for the girl in trapped in his phone, and you would do the same for him, therefore it is of no surprise at all when he airly says, "You're so pretty,"

His voice is barely above a whisper and his eyes are bright as he buries the lower half of his face in the comforting fleece of his black sweater. "Really pretty,"

An airy sort of chuckle escapes the confines of your lips, and Anton's pulse begins to race as he takes note of your tongue swiping over your bottom lip. "Anton, did you hear anything I just said?" If it weren't for the slight hesitation that pollutes the sound of your beautiful voice, Anton would've gladly kept staring at your lips. But his heart sinks imperceptibly as he gazes back at you apprehensively.

"Uh- no," he says, "I was too busy thinking about how excited I am for you to get here." The panic only begins to set when your smile wavers.

"Oh... about that-"

"No," he whispers, "Please don't do that-"

"My boss hasn't exactly cleared me for a vacation day-"

Anton is livid, but his voice remains stable. "We have spoken about this for 2 months!"

"You know how my boss can be," you reply, "He hasn't given me off, Anton. I have no one to cover my shift, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, as the dreaded guilt begins to trickle into your voice. Anton's eyes narrow, and he brings his phone closer. Temporarily ignoring his whirlwind of negative emotions, Anton instead skeptically asks, "Where are you?" That doesn't look like your bathroom."

Anton's heart only sinks lower into the pit of his stomach when he notices a quick hint of alarm flash through your eyes before you're pulling the camera back into a more intimate aspect ratio as you prattle on. "Yeah, I just decided to head to the movies to make myself feel better. Maybe you should do the same," your voice is tight and layered with anxiety as if you were... lying to him.

Anton cannot imagine why you would want to do that, least of all to him. He knew when you lied because you both did it together. On myriad occasions.

He made you call up your part-time job on multiple occasions, rubbing smoothe, encouraging circles on your belly while you feigned an illness just to spend more time with him.

In high school, you had both lied to each of your parents about 'studying together' when in actual fact, those 4 had been excuses to make out messily in your sheets. Exploring confusing emotions until a simmering heat flowed through the both of you while Anton's large hands began to pet over new, various spots on your body.

He had never been on the receiving end of your dishonesty, not even since he left the country. But here you are, evading eye contact, stuttering over your words and lying...

to him.

"How's the team workout been, big boy?" He notices with grave finality how quick you are to not only change the subject, but to weaponize a nickname that you knew would have him melting for you.

Is this what you have both become?

Was he seriously being manipulated?

Was he...

Perhaps...

Being cheated on?

The thought sent a wave of nausea threatening to spill out of his badly pursed lips, and perhaps you realize, from years of studying Anton's non verbal expressions, that he was thinking of something very grave and very bad.

"Hey, didn't you say you only had five minutes?" Your voice is like the tingling goosebumps left in the wake of your nails raking across his skin and he shivers slightly.

"Yeah," his voice, although characteristically quiet, is guarded and you frown, perhaps noticing that you have a lot of making up to do.

Anton suddenly, quite literally out of the blue, asks, "Remember when you said you went bra shopping the other day?

"Yeah?" You ask, completely oblivious to the darkened thoughts polluting your boyfriend's mind. You watch his eyes tare into yours as he monotonously asks.

"Are you wearing any of the new ones right now?"

"Anton, aren't you in the middle of-"

He immediately cuts in, voice impatient and snide, "They can carry on without me, it's fine."

It was petulant, but Anton needed to know you still belonged to him. He needed to know that high school wasn't some sick fever dream you could just swiftly move past as if it meant nothing. He needed to know that.

"Can I see?"

You curtly comply, and you look around before pushing yourself further into the stall. You both found yourselves on opposite end of a cellular line, both silent with the weight of your attraction to one another, keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

"Please?" He asks, in an airy voice, "for me?"

Anton knew from the strike of guilt in his chest that it was not a morally correct thing to do, but what else was there?

You would be away from him, indefinitely. He would have to spend another evening, another week, another month without your body to hold onto. Not to mention, the jealousy at this new hypothetical boyfriend still hung heavily on his shoulders.

Besides, Anton's guilt completely disappeared when you begrudgingly pulled the string of your halter neck down until the material was falling flmisily down your torso, exposing your chest to him. Anton released a wobbly breath while his hand almost immediately went to cover the bulge, forming in his oversized pants. "Oh god," he whispered.

It was so remarkably mesmerising watching your boyfriend slips so easily into desire. You knew he was angry and that made this part of the mission remarkably uncomfortable, but instead, you choose to focus on Anton's lumbering breathing through the screen of your phone. His large eyes hooded and locked onto your breasts, still very much covered by your white lace bra.

Although he cannot see anything besides cleavage, Anton reckons he could cum just from this. That's how bad he needs you, that's how bad he yearns for your soft, grounding presence to be near him.

But your phone chimes. And just as Anton's jaw locks, you exclaim, "Babe, I have to go-"

"What?" The frown on his face is astounding, but you're already propping your phone up to pull up the strings of your dress.

His protests fall on deaf ears.

You could not very well tell him that you have already touched down in Korea. You couldn't tell him the unrecognizable bathroom stall was a sterile cubicle in the international airport. You couldn't tell him that you were closer than he thought.

"My movie is gonna start soon,"

His shoulders visibly deflate and your heart pounds faster in your chest.

"Skip it,"

"I'll call later okay?"

"Skip the movie."

"I love you,"

When you abruptly ended the call, Anton stared at his screen until the dimness turned to black, with only one question permeating through his restless mind.

'Do you?'

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"You say you hear me," Sohee's voice reaches the rafters as the group of boys leave the gym. "You hear me, but do you feel me?"

"Gross," Anton mumbles, leaving Sohee behind.

"It's a simple question," The older boy continues, "at what point does water become soup?"

"When any reasonable amount of seasoning is added," pipes up Shotaro, adjusting the straps of his work out bag along his shoulder.

"Don't encourage him," Eunseok grumbles as they all walk out into the cool night air.

Anton's gaze is still lowered to the floor, but his breath stutters momentarily at the sudden rush of the open air.

"So salt water can be considered soup?" Sohee scoffs, "That's what you're telling me right now?" The group groans in unison, all beginning to walk like a hive mind to the nearest restaurant. All except Anton, who is quieter than usual, whose only plans for the evening consist of wallowing in self-pity.

"Hey, um, I'm just gonna go home," he says, causing the group of boys to stop in their tracks. Anton evade their curious, worried gazes.

"Not when you look like you're about kill yourself-" Shotaro says, attempting to step closer to Anton, but only frowning when the youngest takes a step back.

"That's okay," he attempts to reassure his friends, "There's a beat thats been..." Anton does vague hand gestures to the side of his head, "I wanna go work,"

He was already walking away, head bowed, and headphones pushed over his head, walking into the night before his friends could even get a word in...

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

He could not describe his feelings as Jealousy. That somehow felt like to tame a word to describe the flurry of emotions hanging so heavily on Anton's face as he pushes the password into the door's keypad, before kicking his shoes off at the door.

Anger was certainly a part of it. The large monolith of emotions threating to burst right through him. He felt unpleasantly overstimulated, even in the silence of the apartment. He felt like anything and everything was threatening to have him burst at the seams, his emotions running along the rim of his usually calm and collected state of mind, ready to spill over and make a dreaded mess everywhere.

Anton's only plans for the night had been to lock himself in his dorm room, perhaps crying, perhaps screaming, perhaps knocking himself out for a couple hours with his prescription sleeping pills. Anything to make this horrific strain on his heart disappeared.

The baggy clothes he is accustomed to wearing somehow appear bigger and sloppier as he lumbers his way deeper into the apartment, heart sinking the more steps he takes.

"Oh look,"

Cold, piercing phantom pain zings through his heart, kickstarting every dormant sleepy cell in his body.

"A dinosaur,"

Anton thinks that he couldn't even move if he wanted to. His socks are glued to the threshold, watching you, or perhaps an apparition of you, laying lazily on his bed.

His bed.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, and you watch with furrowed brows as Anton brings his two hands up to his face. You immediately push yourself off the bed when he begins to slap lightly at his cheeks, whispering incoherently about asylums and potentially getting a contact high.

His cheeks are already bright red when you stumble your way in front of him.

“Woah, Big boy,” your hands are on his wrist, effectively stopping Anton from reddening the skin any further.

He can feel you. He can feel the softness of your palms struggling to enclose around his large wrists.

“This is real,” he whispers, watching with wide, doe eyes as a smirk curls at the end of your lips. Before you can reply in whatever witty or snarky remark you had cooked up, Anton was already bending his head until his lips were crashing down to yours.

He very surprisingly, very uncharacteristically pours his strength into the kiss until you were stumbling back rather clumsily into his room.

Anton crumbles into a flurry moans and groans as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, melting into a whimpering puddle when your tongue brushes against his. “B-But when?” he breathes out before reattaching his lips to yours, letting his hands roam unabashedly over every part of your body it can find.

The infuriating need to breathe causes him to pull apart from you once again, but he never strays too far. Anton’s fingers dig into your sides until he's pulling your dress over your head. He wishes to capture every single inch of your exposed body to memory. The way you look up at him with a light, relieved smile curling at the sides of your puffy, red lips.

You're so much shorter than him, and it sends his brain into a mindless, state of lust. He loves how big he feels when you two are together, in the flesh with no digital box separating the two of you.

“H-How?” He breathes out, noting immediate that you are in the same white lace bra from your earlier phone call.

There is a cheeky smile on your face when you pull his oversized shirt over his head, all while he stares you down as if you hung the moon.

“I always keep my promises, Ant,”

His body betrays him with a rough shiver and he groans as you push him onto his bed, discarding his shirt behind you. As you prowl your way on top of him, Ant throws his head back into the sheets, nearly hyperventilating at the sight of you straddling his hips. You lift your torso, immediately discarding your bra, and Anton’s hand flies to cup your breasts. This, he immediately decides, is what heaven looks like.

“Fuck, you're so fucking pretty, you know that?” Anton rarely ever swore, so to hear the crass words coated in his airy, breathless voice is enough to have you moaning into the air, arching your back as you push his face into your chest while you press your core down onto his irresistible bulge.

“Oh God, Anton.”

“Missed you so much,’ he whines, before enclosing his mouth around your nipple, almost instinctively pushing his hips up to meet your desperate grinding. You were quite literally humping like maddened adolescents brimming with too many hormones to know what to do with.

When Anton feels his cock twitching in his pants, he immediately pulls away.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, “I need to be inside of you,” he admits gravely, already getting up to switch places until you were underneath his large and lumbering frame, “I don't think I'll last long,” Another grave admittance. He pushes his hand into his sweatpants, and you watch, mesmerized as he reveals his large, aching cock absolutely leaking precum.

“I'm definitely not gonna last long,” you reassure before eagerly opening your restless legs, “We're gonna cum together, yeah?” Anton squeezes his eyes shut before squeezing the base of his twitching dick. All while you slip your own underwear down.

“Yeah,” he agreed before positioning his cock at your weeping enterance.

You both watch mesmerized as his cock begins to stretch the tight walls of your soaked cunt. The stretch, immediately causing a whimper to slip out of your mouth as you throw your head back into the pillows. You're clenching around him, while Anton coaxes himself into you with shallow thrusts. The rutting being just enough to spill a wave of pleasure over the both of you. He watches you moan with wide, pained eyes.

“I know, baby-” He whisper, “You're doing so good for me, you know that?”

“Fuck, you're so big,” is all you're able to say, effectively causing his hips to stutter.

“F-Fuck I'm not gonna last long-”

Instead of repeating your response, you bring your hips up to meet Anton's thrusts effectively, taking him deeper and deeper until he was fucking you with little to no restraint.

“Oh God,” you whisper, as Anton clumsily brings a hand up to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. Not even a minute later and you're both sitting in the crest of your respective orgasms, looking deep into each other's eyes as if you were communicating that fact. Anton nods, completely dazed.

“Close,” he whimpers, “I'm so fucking close,”

Anton bends his head, spitting directly onto your clit. The sight has your hips stuttering, as the first signs of your orgasm warms your lower abdomen.

“F-Fuck, Ant- I'm-”

The moment his hand travels to rub dizzying wet circles on your clit, you crash into your orgasm.

“Oh fuck- oh fuck-” He fights to keep his eyes open but your squeezing him so hard and Anton can't help but cum directly inside of you. Both your lips are hanging open as your boyfriend attempts to fuck every last drop of his seed into you. You're both releasing months worth of frustration.

The frustration of not being near one another. Of relying on a device to keep your relationship afloat. It all comes crashing down until Anton's is thoughtlessly collapsing on top of you - the weight of a giant landing your front, with his hand playing lazily, wiyh your breasts as you both fight to catch your breathe.

Despite the obvious discomfort, the very last thing you think of doing is pushing him away. Instead, you cradle him closer, raking your fingers into his hair while his eyes flutter shut.

All is quiet, and you vaguely believe Anton may have fallen asleep, but his voice is wide awake as he says, “I thought you were cheating on me.”

You remain quiet, hoping the soft petting on his wild curls was reply enough.

“I'm never letting you go back, okay?”

Your eyes are heavy as you continue to smooothe down his hair, and you whisper, “Okay”.

♡♡♡

#anton lee x reader #riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut #anton riize #lee anton #lee anton x reader #lee anton smut #anton lee smut #riize fluff #riize hard hours #riize #riize x imagine #riize imagines #anton fluff #anton #riize headcanons

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natailiatulls07 · 10 months

Text

When they lost her

2023 formula one grid & female!driver!reader

Warnings - Death, crying, car crash

Summary - After a horrible accident on track, the other drivers have to learn to cope with the death of someone very dear to all

Part 2

Y/n was always a joy to be around, always had a smile on her face, curious about how you are and would never fail to make someone laugh. Aside from her warm hearted attitude, she was also well known for being a incredible driver.

That morning, Y/n had brought in a selection of homemade baked goods to share amongst the drivers and the staff. Everyone extremely thankful for the goodies.

Only a few hours before, the driver was seen doing a wholesome interview with the fellow sky sport commentator, Martin Brundle.

“Martin! Hey do you want some cookies?” The women ran over to Martin who was flabbergasted by the girls upbeat attitude even though she had an intense race later that day.

“Oh thank you so much, now Y/n tell me how can you be this happy even though you have a fierce race today?” It was something many fans and viewers were keen to know, jealous of her calmness.

“Well in all honesty Martin, I am absolutely terrified. However, one quote that stuck with me in my 20 years of life is fake it till you make it! So that’s what I do” Y/n’s voice was sincere. “Well I got to deliver the rest of these before all the boring serious stuff begins so bye bye Martin and bye bye my loyal viewers!”

Waving goodbye to the camera, the girl ran off to find more people to share her delightful treats with.

“Radio check please” Y/n’s race engineers voice came through her ear piece, awaiting her reply.

“I’m a Barbie girl in world! Life in plastic, it’s fantastic” Her singing could be heard from the radio, alerting the engineer of her connection.

She sat snug in the sport car, eager to start the race. To left was one of her favourite British man, Lando, racing for McLaren. She raised her hand up waving in his direction, which he happily replicated.

It was long until the five red lights flashed off and the cars started down the track.

After about 20 laps of the track, it had started to heavily pouring rain. This was something that started to worry the female.

Soon enough the track had grown incredibly slippery, yet they were told to carry on with the race.

Only then did Y/n’s anxiety grew massive. Try to calm herself down, she had lost some focus on the race in general. This had caused her lose control over her car.

Spinning off track, the car had flipped over. The racing car landed on the ground completely flipped over. This had crushed Y/n inside with no way of escaping.

This also knocking the women unconscious.

Immediately the other drivers were instructed to return to their garages until they were given the all clear.

Upon hearing about the accident everyone had grown increasingly concerned with the lack of contact on the females part.

It wasn’t long before medics were sent out to Y/n. A curtain was pulled across the car, providing privacy.

“It seem that Y/n’s car as been covered with a curtain, whilst the rest of the drivers have been told to return to their pits” Martins voice was somber, he had his worries for the girl who never failed to brighten up his grid walks.

“Lewis, we have a red flag please return”

“Lando, red flag. You need to return to pit”

“Carlos, please return to pit. It’s a red flag”

All the remaining drivers had gotten the news off their engineers. Compliant, everyone made their individual ways to the pits.

“What is going on?! Where’s Y/n?!” Charles had anxiety pumping through his veins, making his way to her pit.

It was fair to say that all the drivers shared the same concerns for the young wholesome driver. She was their little sister, most had seen Y/n grow into the grown women she is today.

The medical team had made their way over to the flipped car, starting immediately to try and get the driver to safety.

They had pulled her unconscious body from the car. Laying her down on the ground, rushing to check her pulse.

Checking her neck. Nothing

Checking her wrists. Nothing

They had checked three times and each time receiving no pulse.

“No pulse…she’s gone” The solemn voice of a medic could be heard in the garage. By then, all the drivers and engineers were gathered around the main radio, everything fell silent at the short announcement.

Charles felt tears fall down his cheeks, his chéri was gone. To his left, you could see Lando’s face of surprise and sorrow, he had just lost his bestfriend.

That day all the teams joined together to grieve the death of the paddocks little sister. Fans paid their respects to Y/n’s family on social media.

Since that day, the paddock no longer felt the same warmth that she brought even on her harder days, it was something that was lost when they lost her.

#formula one x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #charles leclerc #max verstappen #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo

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fangswbenefits · 6 months

Text

The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation

Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.

Word count: 4.4k

Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist

If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.

But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.

The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.

You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.

Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.

It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.

And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.

Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.

So handsome…

A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.

“May I kiss you?”

You blinked a few times. “What?”

His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.

“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”

You blinked again.

What?

You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.

Great. Now I'm hallucinating…

He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”

Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.

Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.

“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.

“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”

She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”

You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.

Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”

Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.

“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”

The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”

As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.

“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”

He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”

Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.

He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”

“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”

“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”

Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”

You shot him a death glare.

He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”

This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”

His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”

You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.

Shadowheart scoffed.

“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”

You needed to change the subject.

Fast.

You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.

This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.

“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”

You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”

Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”

“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.

“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”

Fair enough.

“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.

But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.

Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.

She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”

“House arrest.” Astarion informed.

Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.

“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”

Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”

She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”

He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.

“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”

Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”

You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.

To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.

Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”

Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.

“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”

“On that much we can agree.” He mused.

She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”

“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”

You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.

That would be as far as she'd go, though.

“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”

You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.

“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”

The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”

Your stomach lurched violently.

He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”

Now, you felt positively sick to your core.

A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.

“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”

Gale grumbled something in agreement.

But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.

The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.

“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”

Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.

But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.

Astarion.

His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”

You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”

His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”

“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.

He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”

“You won't even deny it.”

“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”

You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.

Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.

He was there, but not really.

He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.

Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”

His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.

Right.

You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”

The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.

You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.

Had you been too dramatic?

Did it even matter at this point?

Maybe it was better off this way.

You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.

Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.

Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.

After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.

That was until you heard a distant voice.

A woman's voice.

Her voice.

“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”

You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.

And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.

“No - stop! Get off!”

He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.

“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”

“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.

He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.

You were going to die.

He was going to kill you.

“Stop! Please - Astarion!”

Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.

You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.

“ASTARION!”

The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.

“Wake up.”

How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?

Were you already dead?

Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.

“Wake up!”

The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.

“Get the fuck off me!”

You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.

He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.

Bergamot.

Rosemary.

Aged brandy.

It was him.

He was there.

The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.

Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.

He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.

“You're safe."

For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.

He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.

“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."

You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.

The door to your room burst open.

“What happened? What did you do?”

Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.

“She was having a nightmare.”

His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.

“Oh. Another one…”

You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.

But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.

“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.

Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.

You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”

Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”

“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.

Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.

You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”

“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”

You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.

She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.

Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?

He scoffed. “No.”

“What?”

“You'll have to stake me.”

You were utterly confused by his perseverance.

“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”

He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”

Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.

“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”

He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”

His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.

“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”

You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.

“What are the first two, then?”

You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.

Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.

“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”

But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.

You felt as though you might implode.

His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.

“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.

He was too good at getting under your skin.

More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.

“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.

“I aim to please.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives.

“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.

But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.

“Don't. Do not start…”

You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”

He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”

You were slightly taken aback.

“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”

Oh.

“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”

You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.

“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”

You felt a lump swell in your throat.

He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.

“What haunts you?”

You.

“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.

Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.

You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.

He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.

“We don't have to talk about it.”

You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”

“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”

Your heart hammered fast inside you.

He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.

A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.

Please kiss me…

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.

Astarion…

Almost there.

You could almost taste him.

Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.

Please… please…

As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.

You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.

A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.

“I can stay until you fall asleep.”

Your heart dropped.

Everything was conditional with him.

It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.

He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.

It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.

You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”

“I can stay.”

“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.

He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”

You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.

“Will you hug me?”

He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”

For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.

Open and caring.

You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.

His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.

“Am I too cold?”

You're perfect.

You shook your head vehemently.

But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.

“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.

You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.

Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.

Maybe this was all a dream.

Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.

That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.

His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.

“Astarion?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to us…”

The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”

Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.

You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.

Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.

“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.

He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.

Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.

It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.

Morning came and he was gone.

Of course he was.

Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.

He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.

You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.

His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.

You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.

Why did he always leave in the end?

Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?

You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.

He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.

You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.

As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.

“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”

You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.

“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”

Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”

Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”

You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.

“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.

“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”

“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”

Guilt hit you.

Of course she had.

Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.

And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.

A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.

No.

No fucking way.

You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.

“Who is it?” Gale asked.

“No one.”

Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.

“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.

Ava.

Next chapter: Broken - November 26

Series Masterlist . I don't keep taglists, so feel to follow this story on Ao3 🩷

#astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion scenario #astarion x you #astarion x reader

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leclercstarrs · 6 months

Text

best friends, cassie howard and maddy perez.

summary: in which things heat up when cassie and maddy approach you at a party.

warnings: switch!reader, threesome, face riding, oral!

notes: enjoy this draft while i work on new things! promise to post something good in a bit! p.s, this is not proof read, sorry babes!

Cassie Howard and Maddy Perez have been close for a long time now. They are used to sharing things, like lots of friends do. From clothes to beds when Maddy sleeps over at Cassie’s place to escape the yelling in her house, and now, you.

When the two girls heard from BB that you were throwing a party, they immediately told you that they’d be attending, and then went home to pick what to wear, even if the party wasn’t for another week.

Now, it’s the night of the party and they enter your house, getting stared at by guys from school as they move through the crowd of drunk teenagers. It’s impossible not to notice the blonde and brunette duo, their matching outfits showing off their bodies. Cassie is, of course, wearing the pink set, while Maddy has on the same set in black.

“Do you see her?” Cassie attempts to ask her friend, her voice going unheard considering the loud music. She stops walking in the middle of the living room, Maddy following her lead.

“Hey, have you seen the host?” Maddy asks a random boy beside her.

“(Y/N)?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Cassie nods. The boy points towards the kitchen and Cassie quickly grabs her friend’s hand, leading her towards the kitchen. “There.” The blonde grins.

“Damn.” Maddy mumbles, watching as you’re lying down on the kitchen island as Jules does body shots on your stomach, a group of people cheering her on. “I’d kill to be Jules right now.” Maddy jokes, earning a laugh from her friend.

“Jules, come on, you’ve had enough.” You prop yourself up and off the counter, taking the bottle of liquor out of her hand before she pours another drink. Jules has been doing this for a while now, to the point that her best friend, Rue, gave up and walked away. “Jules, go find Rue and get a glass of water.” You sigh as the girl tries to take the bottle back.

“God, the two of you are so boring.” She huffs, however, still following your advice and walking out of the kitchen, the crowd slowly exiting as well.

Getting off the counter and tugging at your dress, you pull the tight fabric down your legs a little. You then place the bottle on the counter after taking a quick swig.

“Hey.” Maddy and Cassie smile in unison when they approach you.

You try to hold yourself back from gasping at the girls, looking them up and down. “I see the two of you went for the matching look.” You laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Maddy rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue.

“Oh, it definitely was. You both look hot.” You grab two red solo cups from the counter, then taking the same bottle from earlier and pouring the two girls drinks.

“Thank you.” They take the cups and are quick to down them.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” Cassie suggests, turning to look at Maddy, then back at you.

You bite your lip as the two girls stare at you in anticipation, copying your move from earlier and checking you out, admiring how your dress fits on you. “Let’s go, this party could use some fun.” You cave.

“For sure.” Maddy and Cassie are quick to lead you upstairs and towards your bedroom.

“Cute room.” Cassie sits down on the bed next to you and Maddy, looking around the room.

You start feeling increasingly anxious, unsure of what to do and say. However, you push through it and try to remain calm. “Thanks.” You smile.

“(Y/N), don’t be shy. Take off my shirt.” Cassie says, her soft voice encouraging you to comply. Your lips part as you carefully remove the thin pink fabric off of her body, revealing her breasts.

“You’re so beautiful.” You hum, leaning towards her and pressing gentle kisses on her neck, before stopping when Maddy interrupts.

“Awh, what about me?” The girl on the other side of your bed whines, her lips forming into a fake pout. Unlike Cassie, Maddy proves to be more dominant with her actions, grabbing your hands and guiding you to pull off her black top. She tosses her shirt on the floor, Cassie then doing the same. “Here.” Maddy quietly says, once again taking your hands and placing them on her breasts. Her nipples are hard, Maddy’s entire body begging for you to touch her. You carefully massage them, eager but quiet moans escaping from the girl.

Cassie then moves closer to you from behind, stopping you from continuing on with Maddy as the two girls work on taking your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your small thong.

Maddy gently moves you hair out of your face, “Lie down, baby.” She instructs you.

You do as she says, lying back on the bed, unsure of what the girls have planned. Cassie climbs towards you, leaning down and kissing you, before positioning yourself so her cunt is hovering about your mouth. Now, you understand what she wants. “Say please.” You change your tone, feeling more confident in yourself.

The blonde whines, “Please.”

“Good girl.” Maddy chimes in. She’s now starting to work on pleasuring you, kissing up your thighs, until she reaches your cunt. You can feel her breath, it’s as if she’s waiting for you to make the first move, so you do.

Cassie fully places her cunt on your mouth as you slowly lick one stripe up her folds. “Fuckkkk…” She moans, desperate for more and starting to grind against your tongue.

“Keep going.” Maddy tells you as she starts to do the same to you, instead thrusting her tongue into you, earning muffled moans from you as you move your tongue around Cassie’s folds, coaxing out juices as you make your way to her clit. More moans abrupt from you and Cassie. Maddy is teasing you, her tongue flicking slowly on your own clit, your legs slightly shaky. Your hands make their way up Cassie’s waist, sitting there for a moment and guiding her hips with the movement of your tongue on the swollen nub. Cassie has different plans, however, her mouth dropping in pleasure as she drags her hands to her tits, getting you to massage at her nipples, adding to the wave of pleasure going through her.

“Shit, (Y/N).” Cassie gasps, her eyes rolling back.

“Doing so good for Cass, hm?” Maddy muffles as she eats your pussy.

Like the two of you are in sync, you and Maddy thrust your tongues deeper, Cassie going silent, unable to even make a sound as she desperately cums on your face. Moments later, you do the same as Cassie, Maddy sending you over the edge. Your juices flow out of your cunt, Maddy pulling away and licking her lips. “You taste so good.” She smirks.

Cassie gets off of you, her chest rapidly moving up and down as she relaxes after her orgasm. “You’re so fucking good at that.” She praises you.

Meanwhile, Maddy slides your panties back onto you, then moving towards your face. “Mm, Let me clean you up.” She gently grabs your face with her hands and kisses you, the two of you exchanging Cassie’s juices. Next to the two of you on the bed, Cassie grins.

“We should seriously do this again.” Cassie catches your attention and you and Maddy stop kissing.

“Obviously.” Maddy laughs.

#this is really long sorry yall🤓#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #euphoria x reader #euphoria x y/n #euphoria x you #euphoria imagine #euphoria fanfic #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x y/n #cassie howard x you #cassie howard smut #cassie howard x y/n #cassie howard x reader #euphoria smut

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lookingformoondrop · 7 months

Note

Hiiii! Thanks for writing for tcoal! If you have time can I get a yandere Andrew x reader? Thanks :)

Sure thing~ Once again, it seems highly unlikely that Ashley would let this obsession slide, so for the sake of the story, she's been bliped. Happy (late) Halloween! <3

Yandere! Andrew GravesxReader

TW: Yandere themes, possession, obsession, murder, implied kidnapping, intimidation, stalking, Andrew has a foul mouth (Y/N too), not proofread

♡1,438 WORDS♡

Andrew Graves has a mask.

It's a very well crafted mask that's used to blend in with his peers, his friends, his girlfriends, his parents, and even himself.

It covers the dark parts of Andrew that even himself is too terrified to look at.

For if you look into the abyss, it looks back at you.

But when he met you, swinging back and forth at the playground swing, he could've sworn he heard something crack.

You were beautiful.

As he watched you, with the breeze blowing at your cute overalls and baggy shirt, god, so pretty.

Your smile could open the gates of the heavens. Your laugh could make rainbows last, your tears would be prettier than diamonds, and you in his cage would bring him closer to your hell.

He couldn't help but imagine you as some sort of art. Something valuable that wasn't ever to be touched by another person. Only seen by him, just him.

His mask cracked the more he looked at you.

That day started a life-long obsession.

He would venture to that park a few more times after that, until eventually introducing himself to you. Naive you, who believed him to be a kind and stoic person.

You weren't wrong, but it was your fault for thinking that's all it was.

Even if Andrew never admitted it to himself, the thought of you being his and ONLY his made his heart flutter.

How when you breathed, when you walked, when you spoke, when you laughed, it would all belong to him.

Those thoughts kept him awake at night, even if a light blush would always dust his cheeks.

As time went on, he learned that his dakmfk thoughts that he pushed to the back of his mind would only resurface when a man talked to you. Even a father-figure was enough to put him in a foul mood.

Andrew didn't say anything, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his blood boil.

"Andy? Are you okay? You've been glaring at the ground even since we walked past Mr. Mancho."

"Why do you even like him? He's so...weird," Mr. Mancho was an innocent looking math teacher, one that always smiled at the students. And yet, Andrew hated the fact he smiled at Y/N...he didn't like that very much.

"Weird? He's been pretty nice to me...," You scratched your chin in deep thought, "do you not like Mr. Mancho?"

Andrew looked up at your doe eyes and heard something crack again,

"...he keeps looking at my things."

Andrew justified his growing hatred.

Even as you shrugged away his weird moods whenever you talked to cousins, friends, and teachers, Andrew never lacked as your friend.

Through every obstacle, he'd be there to help you jump over them. Although he'd complain about jumping in the first place, he'd never leave you.

He'd care about your issues, he'd care for your wounds, and he'd listen to your problems.

Especially when you were bullied.

The keyword here is 'were'.

While in school, a boy had groped you. When confronting him about what happened, his friend group laughed at you, claiming that you were just making shit up for attention.

This had made you cry when you got home.

Something that Andrew instantly knew about...somehow.

"Jesus Y/N, what happened?"

"S- Some boy touched me, and- h-he then said I was just making it up for attention! My friends all believed him a-and I," you broke down in sobs as your day was retold to your best friend.

As you continued to share your day with Andrew, he remained completely silent.

Several times throughout the call, you'd check if he was even still on. Still, when you called out for him, he'd answer with praise for trying to stand up for yourself, no matter what they had said to you.

You didn't know it then, but Andrew was squeezing his pack of cigarettes so hard that by the time he had gotten off the phone with you, they were all broken.

The next week, when you came to school, authorities were there questioning all the students. When they came to you, it was explained that the boy who groped you was killed and stuffed into his parent's basement freezer. Along with his friends, who all mysterious died in the forest, with some sort of satanic pentagon painted beneath their bodies.

You told the police you knew nothing, and all your friends who had doubted you came to you in an instant with apologies.

When you had told Andrew everything that happened he had only said,

"How strange."

As the years went on and you grew older, your friendship with Andrew always stayed strong.

Andrew would never say it, but when he kissed your cheek or patted your head, he was screaming,'I love you.'

But his dark thoughts, the ones he kept far back in his mind, would only double.

"Andy! Guess what happened today?"

"Hah?" Andrew turned his head from his spot on the couch.

"This cute boy at my job said he would love to take me out to dinner sometime!" You smiled brightly at the sly possibility that your bad streak with love would finally be over.

Every guy that ever walked into your life promptly bolted for the door the moment you opened it.

Andrew always told you that those guys just didn't appreciate you enough and that someone who bolted just like that was a quitter. Ashley?

But even then, you never gave up. Despite the long list of guys who ghosted you randomly.

"Oh...you said no, right? "

"What?" You walked over to Andrew from the door of the apartment. "Why would I say no...?"

Andrew looked at you with a dark shadow over his face, "Y/N, there are millions of creeps and perverts that are going to ask you out. They're only leering at you for your body."

You frowned at this notion,

"When you go to your next shift, tell him you don't want to anymore." Andrew thought for a moment and then shook his head.

"What's wrong?"

Andrew looked at your confused eyes.

"Just realized I have to get up early tomorrow to take out the trash."

When you went back to work the next day, he had quit just as suddenly.

Sad and upset over the millionth guy that ghosted and dumped you, you'd sulk to Andrew. Who would always make you warm cup of tea.

"Dumbass, you just keep picking quitters. It's not because of you."

"But Andy, I haven't had a boyfriend in years! At this point I'll die alone, probably with you right there to bury me with my hundreds of cats."

Andrew laughed at that and reached his arm around your shoulder.

"Just wait a little longer Y/N, I'm sure there's some jackass out there waiting for you."

"Yeah, right." You smiled at Andrew, "You're the only jackass I know, though. "

You leaned your head on Andrew's shoulder and began to fall to sleep rather quickly.

"The only...jackass...in my life... Andy, I'm sleepy."

Andrew took a sip of his tea and placed the cup far away from your drink.

"Rest Y/N. When you wake up, you'll have me right there besides you."

"Andy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, you're my best friend."

Andrew patted your hair as you drifted off to a drug-induced slumber.

"Yes, I'm your best friend," Andrew stared off to the distance as he thought about it.

"Soon, your only friend," He nodded at that statement, "Yes, the only friend you'll ever need."

His mask, although long forgotten, had finally cracked open.

You were his. Like a forbidden piece of art, it belonged to him. He was your painter, and as the painter, he declared you to be covered up. Only his retinas were allowed to peer at you.

It's your fault he went through all this effort to keep you safe. He's obligated as the painter to keep his art safe from dirty influences.

He's mildly disappointed in you whenever you speak to another man, but it's okay. It's his job after all to stalk the said man and hack his tongue off for even going to speak to you.

No matter how many guys he has to threaten, no matter how many people he's had to hack at, no matter how many people he's had to kidnap, it wasn't his fault.

It's yours.

All the blame is on his sweet, naive, poor, Y/N.

Still as innocent the day he found you at the playground.

"Still mine..." He mumbled as he stared at your sleeping face.

"Only mine."

Thanks for the ask!<3

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