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#it reminds him of what he can't have and makes him fear he will never measure up to Vasco's lawfully wedded wife
bts-hyperfixation · 2 days
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Outside of the Fox
Chapter 38 of????
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Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.
Last
You wake up to the same squeezing feeling settled around your chest, although that could also be the weight of Jungkook's arms as the bunny holds you tightly even in his sleep. 
All things considered, you had slept quite soundly, you just wish someone had told your body that as it tries to tell you how exhausted you are. 
You do your best to worm your way out of the youngest's embrace, disturbing him only slightly before he turns around and gathers Jimin into his arms instead. You take one more look at their sleeping forms before tip-toeing out of the room. No one is sitting in the living room making your escape easier as you slip silently through to the front door. 
You aren't really sure where you are going, you just know one more minute in the house is going to make you combust. So you walk for a while, you pass your old office, pass the restaurant you went to the day you met  Jimin, pass Hobi's karaoke shop. You continue going until nothing around you is familiar and then your stomach starts to growl. 
You walk into the first cafe you see and sit yourself in a booth at the back, taking a deep breath as you finally take stock of the position you are now in. The cafe is mostly empty with one other customer in the far corner and two waitresses who look more than a little annoyed that you have invaded their space. The elder of the two hands you a menu and waits to take your order. You barely take any notice, pointing to the first thing under the breakfast title. 
With nothing left to distract you from the fear, it starts creeping back in; A remnant phobia from the hybrid genes mixed with your sheltered childhood. An instinct that tells you to disappear before you're trapped again. 
Your mind runs through the previous day countless times. How ready you had been to fight for Taehyung and his freedom, only for his solution to be to trap you with him. The logical section of your brain tries to remind you that he is not trying to collect or ensnare you, that this may be his best shot to stay with you and the other members of your relationship. 
The emotional side of you however can't quite get over how much your new life has come to resemble your previous one. Living in someone else's home, no career to call your own, and now a convenient trophy on the arm of another rich man... 
A stack of pancakes is placed in front of your face bringing you out of your miserable monologue but instead of finding the aging waitress, you find Noelle beaming down at you.
"Y/N! Long time no see," She smiles.
The mouse hybrid invites herself to sit with you, sliding into the booth opposite.
"Although it feels like I'm all caught up with the amount Jimin talks about you at the shelter," 
She reaches out and takes a berry from the side of your plate. You do your best to smile in return at her, before today you may have actually been thrilled to see Noelle since she was right, it had been a long time. But right now didn't feel like a socialising time.
"Perhaps I'm not all caught up judging by that sour look in your eye... Maybe a new set of ears can help?" She offers.
"I don't know. It's a lot, I'm not sure I fully understand my issues, I wouldn't want to burden you,"
"You're my friend Y/N, you could never be a burden to me. And if you're not at home talking this out with the seven wonderful men that dote on your every whim, then I think you need the outside ear... Am I wrong?" 
Noelle takes your hand from the table and holds it in her own, doing her best to reassure you. 
You ponder it for a moment, but she is right an outside opinion might help your brain to rationalise, although perhaps you should think about booking your own session with Dr. Triever instead...
Still, you relay the entire situation starting from your 16th birthday all the way up to today. And she listens to you patiently, not interrupting once even when you stray from the main subject on to distracting details, although she does steal a few bites of your breakfast. 
"And so I've landed at the point where I know I have to marry Tae, and I love him so that's okay! I'm just having a lot of trouble getting my instincts to retreat. My hackles raise every time I think about it, and honestly it's making my back start to ache."
"Have you considered not saying yes to marrying Tae?" Noelle suggests.
"Of course not. If I don't marry him then he and that poor girl are going to be forced together. I know what that's like and I won't let it happen to someone I love." 
"No, you'll just let it happen to you a second time," She rolls her eyes. "Okay, let's start with an easier part of the equation. Jimin said you had put a lot of the funds behind the new renovations, doesn't that make it your house, not just theirs anymore?"
"I mean, I guess? But it's not what I had in mind. My name isn't on any of the paperwork for the land, and I really did think I was going to live all on my own in the world."
"Living on your own is not all it's cracked up to be, trust me. I'd give anything for a cuddle some nights, especially during storms," She shudders dramatically. "And you gave up your job yourself, but I'm 100% sure we could get you another one if that is an issue, but I think your brain is just searching for reasons to run. Really think about it, how much do you mind not working?"
You do think about it. And maybe spending your time in the house was far more satisfying than going to your nine to five. But it's still the principle of the matter. You had promised yourself that you were going to do it on your own. Now you've failed.
And that's really the crux of it. Not that you're living with the boys, not that you've dipped into your money, not that you find yourself suddenly betrothed. It's the fact that you have perceived yourself as failing. Unable to prove that you could take care of yourself in the big bad world that your parents worked so hard to protect you from. 
You let Noelle in on your thoughts as she finishes off your breakfast for you.
"The way I see it, you haven't failed yourself. You've just found something more suitable instead. But if your stomach is still in knots about it, it's better to run now than on the day of the wedding," She shrugs. 
"You make an excellent point," You concede.
________________
With the food gone, and your heart somewhat unsqueezed, you and Noelle head back into the world. You walk her back as far as the shelter. You intend to leave her at the door, but Jimin sees you through the window before you can make your escape.
You contemplate running, pretending you didn't see him. But a confrontation is on the cards either way and it's probably better to get it over with than let Jimin drive his colleagues insane through the course of the day. Plus the man is far faster than he looks and he is stood in your path before you would've been able to escape anyway.
"Where the hell did you go?" The redhead tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks in the middle, your heart along with it, "You didn't wake anyone, you didn't answer your phone, you didn't even leave a note. Why?"
"I couldn't breathe, I didn't really think about it, I just knew I had to move," You answer honestly.
He sighs and glances around you, noticing the audience that seems to be gathering in the windows
He wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into him, and his other hand lands in your hair smoothing it down. He shuffles the two of you into the shadows of the building instead of standing out in the open where anyone can look out and see you there.
"Obviously you're not okay so I'm not going to ask you that... Are you... Is there anything I can do?"
"No, it's not your problem it's mine."
"Was it the proposal? I think that caught us all off guard and Taehyung doesn't expect you to go through with it."
A dry laugh escapes your mouth before you can stop it. Jimin takes a step back and meets your eyes.
"You don't believe me?" 
"I believe you that he doesn't expect me to go through with it, but I think we all know that I have to... and I want to! honestly, I do. I'll do anything so you guys don't, so we don't, lose Taehyung. I just need to get my head around it."
"I think you should go home Y/N. Talk with Jin or Namjoon, although maybe avoid Kookie and Taehyung until you can lie more convincingly than you did to me just now," He pecks your forehead and lets you go fully, "I'm so glad you're safe."
He sends you away with a promise to text him when you return home. You drag your feet the entire way knowing that Jimin is right and you need to talk through everything with a voice of reason. Jin might be the obvious choice, while a clown the majority of the time, his clinical doctor side allows him to separate emotion from sensitive topics. Something tells you that he isn't what you need right now. 
So when you reach the main house you walk inside the unfinished building and straight into Namjoon's new office finding him sitting at his new oak desk, just stroking the wood. He startles as your hand lands on his shoulder. 
"Shit Y/N, where did you come from?" He clutches at his chest dramatically. 
You flop down onto the new armchair as you wait for him to recover from his mini heart attack. He sits silently observing you for a moment too long until you start to wiggle uncomfortably.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" He reaches out a hand and places it on your knee. 
You thought you were, but the concern in his voice makes you hesitate. You just shake your head in response instead. 
"Okay, then let's not talk. Stand up." He stands too. 
He switches places with you sitting down in the armchair and pulling you back into his lap. He manhandles you until you're curled up on his knees with your face nuzzled into his neck. His fingers trace patterns along your thighs and the two of you sit in silence. 
The tightness in your chest is still there, curling up in Namjoon's arms is doing nothing to assuage that feeling but it still feels nice everywhere else. You think about what Noelle said about finding a new goal for yourself and you let yourself sniff Namjoon's comforting firewood scent. 
"I missed you this morning," He whispers in your ear. 
 "I'm sorry,"
"Don't be sorry, you needed space and that's okay. I just wanted you to know I missed you," 
He pecks your cheek and you continue sitting in silence. The rope around your heart seems to release, just a little as you allow yourself this comfort. 
"I love you," You whisper.
"I love you too," He confirms.
"I love all of you,"
"But you aren't ready to marry Taehyung, or any of us for that matter." He guesses
"I don't think so no... But I can't let Taehyung leave. I know better than anyone how it feels to be in a marriage you didn't choose. And it's so much worse for Taehyung, no one ever threatened me, I didn't have anyone I loved that I had to leave."
"We can think of other solutions for Tae Y/N. We aren't going to let you put yourself in a situation you don't truly want ."
"You don't know families like Tae's, families like mine. There isn't another option. I'm just going to suck it up and marry Taehyung."
"Ah yes, what every man wants to hear his fiance 'suck it up and marry him'" Namjoon chuckles.
You roll your eyes at his unserious response and start to wonder whether you should have gone to see Jin instead. 
"Look, this whole situation sucks for all of us, but there are other options we need to consider as a family, this burden doesn't lie on you. Now tell me what else is going on, because the proposal may have been a catalyst but it isn't the whole problem, I can see it in your eyes." 
"It's nothing," You sigh 
"If it's something, then it's everything. You listen to all our problems so often but won't let us listen to yours." He chastises.
"That's because you guys have real problems, I have stupid insecurities that have no basis in reality. There is no point in me bothering you with superficial issues."
"if it bothers you then it's not superficial and you should be talking to one of us. It doesn't have to be me, but I would love nothing more than for you to be able to confide in me."
"Really Joonie it's silly." You assure him.
"Tell me anyway," he insists. 
You contemplate confessing more of your issues. Realistically you know that he does actually want to help you but you also know the burden he already holds, having everyone else's concerns on his shoulder, you want nothing more than to lighten the load for him, not pile more on. However, you also know he won't drop it. 
"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't make a big deal out of it. It's my issue and it's something I will get over by myself,"
"Scouts honour," He crosses his heart.
"I'm fairly certain you weren't a scout," You raise an eyebrow.
"The sentiment still stands," He shrugs, "Now tell me."
So you tell him what you told Noelle. He listens intently to each minor problem, each insecure thought, and he doesn't say a word. But you can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to come up with solutions. As you finish speaking, you hold a finger up to his lips.
"But I..." He tries to speak around your finger but you just press harder against his lips.
"You promised," you chastise. 
He smirks and your finger slips past his lips and onto his tongue. 
He pulls on your wrist to remove the digit from his mouth but not before licking along the length.
"If you really don't want my opinion I won't give it... but I would love for you to sign your name on the lease." he suggests
"That sounds like a solution I didn't ask for," You complain.
"But it's an easy solution that makes so much sense, don't you think?"  He sounds far too excited, probably because he is right.
"Maybe... but I still need to come to terms with all these issues on my own Joonie," you enforce the boundary.
"And I will let you... if you let me distract you from those issues for a little while." He says suggestively.
"And how do you propose you do that?" You ask innocently.
He responds by replacing your finger in his mouth and using his now free hand to trace back up the inside of your thigh.
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canisalbus · 20 days
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I imagine Vasco and Ludovica have a big painting (portrait but with two people) in Vasco's house (probably his father insisted of getting one of these, people used to do it in the old days, especially wealthy ones). While it's very serious and formal, in the way all these portraits were, it is also very intimate (at least it's implications). I imagine Machete just staring at it sometimes, feeling small while looking at the big painting. And sad, maybe jealous but I don't think he'd resent Ludovica. He, most of all, understands.
.
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laughingcatwrites · 6 months
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As a reminder that good exists out there, a coworker recently confessed to me that he found out his child is questioning their identity (kid's gender redacted for this post). The kid is keeping it from him, so he can't say anything to them or show that he knows, but he's doing his best to get mentally prepared and educated so that he'll be ready whenever his kid does feel comfortable enough come to him.
For context, this guy is a big, bulky middle aged dude who loves sports and typical outdoor "manly" activities. As his coworker and friend, I know he's a kind and sweet teddy bear of a person, but his kid probably views him as a stern, authoritarian figure, the way most teenagers view their parents. His family lives in a conservative area, so I'm sure between that, their dad's looks and interests, and the fact that their dad is a Figure of Authority, the kid is worried that they won't be accepted.
But you know what? When he found out about his kid, the first thing he did was reach out to his closest queer friend and ask for resources for parents of questioning children. His biggest fears are that his kid will be bullied or discriminated against and won't feel comfortable enough to be themself. His second action was to find himself a mentor in another parent who went the same situation (kid coming out in a conservative town). The other person is preparing him for some of the struggles his kid may face and the fights he may need to take on as a parent to make sure his kid is safe and treated well.
Something I want to emphasize for people focused on language as the primary method of allyship is that when we spoke, he used some outdated terms and thoughts about gender and sexuality. That does not make him bad. These were the terms and thinking used about questioning teenagers when he was growing up and he never needed to learn more current ones. But now that he does have that need, he's throwing himself in head first because that's his kid and he's darn well going to make sure that his kid feels welcomed and has a safe place to be themselves even if they never come out to him.
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chuluoyi · 8 months
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fear
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- gojo satoru x reader
his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.
genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end
notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.
"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"
"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"
That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.
"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."
"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."
On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.
Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.
Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.
And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.
"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"
Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.
It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.
"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"
"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.
But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.
When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."
It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.
"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."
"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."
Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"
"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"
You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."
"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."
"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"
"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.
"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."
Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?
You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."
"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”
That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."
Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.
You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.
Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.
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Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.
If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.
Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.
As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.
Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.
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"You've royally fucked up."
Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."
The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."
The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"
A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.
Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.
"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."
He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?
The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."
She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"
It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—
"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.
"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"
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"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."
Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 
Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.
"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.
Satoru.
But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.
You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.
Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.
"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.
"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.
Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.
Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."
"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."
It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.
And everything faded to nothingness.
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Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?
But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.
And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.
It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.
You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.
Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.
That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.
"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."
When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.
The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.
He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.
"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.
And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.
But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.
It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.
"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."
And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.
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Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.
You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.
"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.
It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.
You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.
"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.
Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.
You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.
"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.
The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?
You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."
Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”
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You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.
Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.
He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.
"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.
Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."
"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"
His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.
"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.
"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.
He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"
You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"
"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”
He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.
You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"
"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”
"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."
"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.
The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.
But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.
"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."
Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.
"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.
“You said you could have any other women out there—”
"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."
“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”
“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”
"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."
"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"
"A thank you would be nice."
In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."
He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.
"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”
You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"
"Then just let him die."
You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.
“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.
“Mmhm.”
As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.
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Epilogue
Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.
Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.
He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.
"You are—"
"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"
"Hah?"
If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.
"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."
Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!
"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."
"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...
Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?
Hey, that sounds like something I can do!
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a-b-riddle · 23 days
Text
Part 7
Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader
(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)
No harm done yet.
You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.
You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.
But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.
You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.
Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?
Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?
You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.
It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.
The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.
Whatever.
Fuck him.
You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.
By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.
You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.
Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.
"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.
She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....
You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.
Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.
Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.
But they looked hot. Really hot.
"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."
"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."
"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."
A little over two years ago
"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."
"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.
"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."
"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.
"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."
"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.
"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.
"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.
"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.
What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.
Dead. Perfect.
The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.
He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.
It wasn't always great to be right.
When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.
You fucking bolted.
Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.
You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.
"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.
You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.
He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.
It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.
The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.
Fear.
You were afraid.
You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.
Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.
"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."
"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"
"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.
"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.
"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.
"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.
Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.
"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."
"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.
"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.
"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."
"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.
Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.
You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.
You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.
Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.
No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.
"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"
You felt your cheeks flush with heat.
"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.
There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.
You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.
Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.
You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.
"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"
"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.
"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."
"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.
Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.
You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.
Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.
Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.
"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.
"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.
Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.
"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."
"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.
They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.
And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.
You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.
Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?
You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.
You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.
Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.
John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.
Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?
Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.
Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.
John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.
Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.
So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.
"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.
Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.
"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.
You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.
The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.
Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.
Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-
"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.
"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.
"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'
"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.
"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.
Jesus, when did you become so harsh.
I blame Simon.
"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....
Little bitch.
"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?
"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.
"There's no need for that-"
"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.
"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."
"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"
And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.
You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"
"My friends call me-"
"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."
His expression fell.
"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.
"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."
You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.
"What did you do?" Mere asked.
"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.
"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.
"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.
"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."
"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.
"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."
"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.
"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.
"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.
"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."
"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.
"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."
"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.
"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."
"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."
"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"
"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.
"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.
Unfortunately, it did not.
You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.
Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.
"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.
You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.
"You mean like they did you?"
And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.
"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.
"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.
Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.
Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?
It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.
What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.
"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.
"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.
"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"
You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?
"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."
"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.
"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.
And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.
But you didn't need to do any of that.
In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.
"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.
You could handle you own against Percy.
But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.
You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.
"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.
You knew that all too well.
Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"
It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.
Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.
You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.
"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.
He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.
Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.
It was a promise.
"We're over." You reminded.
"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"
"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."
"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."
The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.
"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.
"I know you did."
"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.
"Just did." Was his only answer.
"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.
"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.
"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.
"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.
"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."
He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.
His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.
He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?
He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.
You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.
But you didn't.
You were tired.
So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."
"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"
There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.
With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.
Only this time, it was directed at you.
One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'
"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."
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tartarusknight · 2 months
Text
Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.
Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.
Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.
Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.
And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.
Until now...
Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.
Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.
The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.
Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.
However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.
"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.
Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.
"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.
"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.
"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.
He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him
Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"
Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."
Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."
Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.
They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.
"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.
Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.
He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."
They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.
"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.
"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.
Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.
"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.
Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.
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solsays · 7 months
Text
Lifers x Crane Wives
I saw someone comment on a life series TikTok or something to try and pair all of the lifers to a crane wives song, without repeating songs. so obviously I spent an hour doing it
Grian—Tongues & Teeth (self explanatory if you’ve EVER heard this song)
Scar—Steady, Steady (this whole song is about how their partner is walking out but they still want to be “wild and free” which is just SO Scar coded)
Tango—Ancient History (he keeps teaming up with Skizz and I feel like this song vibes with that, it also just feels very Tango)
Skizz—Icarus (this man always gives himself up for his teammates I swear, and he fuels them to keep going. It also says “oh brother, brother” which feels like Skizz talking to any of his teammates to me)
Impulse—Allies or Enemies (Impulse has been very iffy on a lot of his alliances throughout the seasons, especially in third life and with the amount of playing all sides that man has done this songs feels right)
Cleo—The Glacier House (this. this is literally just her leaving Fairy Fort. The song is talking to/about her from probably Lizzie’s perspective, but like the last line is 100% as if Cleo was speaking)
Bdubs—Unraveling (Bdubs relies so heavily on his teammates, and when he doesn’t have that stability *cough* Etho *cough* he just kinda doesn’t know what to do so this song fits)
Mumbo—Keep You Safe (this man is by no means an aggressive/reckless player [see: Joel or Martyn] and he feels like he’s just here for the vibes and honestly? Love that for him. This song is about fear not keeping you safe and watching your friends run high risks, which just is very accurate to how Mumbo plays this series. I also feel like he could fit Rockslide when he goes red cause he goes from standstill to “drop dead sprint” in terms of aggression)
Lizzie—Shallow River/New Colors (Lizzie is the only one I put as two because both of these songs are just so fitting. Shallow river—“wasted all for the title, wasted all for the crown” reminds me of Lizzie trying to kill Scott and ending up dying herself instead. I also feel like parts of it could be dead Lizzie talking to Joel, the only person who is really mourning her. New Colors—“don't tell me that I can't, I need this“ and “I give up my air, to breathe” also feel very accurate with how she is trying so hard and just keeps failing )
Jimmy—Canary in a Coal Mine (no further context needed, we all know Timmy)
Scott—Little Soldiers (this is very flower husbands, but also just feels like Scott looking back on the last seasons including Pearl, Jimmy, Martyn, all his reluctant exes. Also this man is the watchers’ like least favorite person ever and this gives that vibe)
Pearl—Ribs (i changed this from New Discovery because Ribs is entirely about somewhat angrily protecting and helping yourself because nobody else would, and it really strikes me as Pearl with the some things having been good (Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss) and some being bad (divorce quartet))
BigB—Not the Ghost (this man is so incredibly odd, he just constantly feels like he is being haunted by the watchers and just going about his life, he is the human personification of gaslight and we love that for him)
Martyn—The Hand That Feeds (he HATES the watchers with every ounce of his being, and with Ren gone I think this guy’s only purpose is just to spite them)
Joel—Sleeping Giants (go listen to it. That’s all there is to it, it just feels very Joel-ish, this lad is absolutely fucking mental)
Ren—Once & for All (this song feels like war and being betrayed, and Ren has been betrayed so much so it just fits. I mean come on “my blood’s forever on your hands” tell me that isn’t 100% something Ren would say)
Gem—Show Your Fangs (Girlboss moment, we love Geminislay. This woman is not someone to be underestimated and this song very clearly says that so it’s very Gem in my head. She doesn’t have enough lore yet to make it angsty but ONE DAY)
Etho—Never Love An Anchor (I can’t explain it, this song just has Etho vibes. I mean “It’s a secret I keep tucked inside my chest” just seems very him, I can’t really tell you why)
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boiohboii · 2 months
Text
If she's around.
(Lando norris x leclerc!reader)
When lando decides to make a video along with two of his friends for their YouTube channel his girl of course had to make an appearance
or
In which ethan and ginge are always reminded of the fact that they are single.
Masterlist
N.b: just inspired by the new quadrant video, I loved it, obviously I have no idea if ginge or ethan are single or not, but for the purpose of this fic they don't... WARNINGS: not proof read, some swear words here and there (friends jokingly insulting each other), sexual implicantions?.... and I think that's it? If I missed anything else lmk please.
Ethan and Ginge did not think this through. They obviously got too excited about the idea and did not sit down to actually think about the consequences.
What are the consequences? That damn breakfast that Lando Norris is having them eat.
"This is criminal mate, I can see some good fucking food in there."
Ginge complained as he placed the cup underneath his nose, trying to see if the smell is as bad as the food looks.
"Ah no no, I can't give you that."
"Well, why not? It sure as hell doesn't look like you threw it up."
"That's the missus' breakfast, she'll kill me if I let you eat it."
Now, lando was just messing around. Yn was well aware of the fact that his friends were coming over and she prepared extra food in case they deviate from the video's plan.
"The missus?" Ginge asked as he took the spoon from the f1 driver "who is she? And why have I never seen her before?"
"What are you talking about, you've seen her before."
"I think I'd remember if I've seen a girlfriend of yours mate."
"You have ginge." Ethan answered as he looked at the red head "in one of the streams."
Farrowing his eyebrows ginge tried to remember, he was sure he had never seen lando with a girl before, he would definitely remember if- oh. oh. oh.
"No," ginge gasped as he looked at lando with uncertainty "no way mate. She is not your girlfriend."
"Umm, yes she is."
"No she's not."
"Yes, she is!"
"No, no she's not! She is too pretty for you."
Ethan chocked as he looked at Lando's disbelief of what his friend has said.
"Don't look at me like that! You know that she is too pretty for you"
Blinking, lando shrugged in agreement.
"Simp" ginge scoffed as he took a bite out of his breakfast.
"Well, i don't blame him man, have you seen yn."
"Looks like I will double the weights during training" lando has malice behind his smile, which made the two instantly shut up.
Interview room(ANGRYGINGE has a fear of flying)
" I'll be honest, I still believe that yn leclerc is way too pretty for lando. Like yeah sure he's an f1 driver but like aren't 2 of her brothers drivers as well. It would be so funny if they crashed into lando if he pissed her of or made her sad or something, a whole new meaning to the I will run you over threat."
"What time do you go to bed?"
"Ummm, depends."
"On?"
"If the missus is around, dirty bastard." Ginge answered "now, be honest, what time did you go to bed last night?"
"It was, um, it was early."
"You are lying through your teeth mate, I can see those dark circles."
"Hello boys."
"Dirty bastard." Ginge and ethan laughed harder at the coincidence.
"Hello love." Lando chuckled at her confused face as he pecked her forehead.
"What is going on?" Leaning onto his chest, yn looked at the two guests, wondering about their choice of words being the response to her greetings.
"Oh don't worry about it," wrapping his arm around her waist Lando rests his chin on her head " they were just asking if you being with me makes me go to bed at a later time than usual."
"Oh," yn giggled "i guess they're right? Sometimes we stay up reading a book or watching a movie, it depends on what's near us on the bedside table."
"Alright," lando started before taping yn's stomach and pointing to the firdge " you should have your breakfast and we should go back to what we were doing, yeah?"
Humming in agreement, yn turned around and leaned up to give lando a kiss on the cheek, but upon hearing ginge groan, the formula driver grabbed his girlfriend's neck from the front, redirecting her head so that their lips would meet.
"Oh come on mate, no need to rub it in!"
Being in the small makeshift home gym that lando has, the three brits started discussing what exercises they would be doing.
"First we'll start with a warm up, normally there's a few bands" looking around the room, lando tried to remember where he placed them last "they might be in our bedroom."
"How did the workout band made it into the bedroom?" Ethan asked as he started wiggling his eyebrows at ginge.
"Hey sweetheart," Lando's voice could be heard calling out "do you know where my exercise bands are?"
"They're in the bedroom," yn exclaimed "on your bedside table."
Ethan's eyebrows stopped mid movements while ginge's jaw dropped down "went to bed early lando, ehh, yeah yeah sure!"
Monitoring his friends' forms in a workout was not lando thought he would be doing on a day off where yn was with him without one of her brother's breathing down their necks. Speaking of his lovely girlfriend, lando saw her in one of his mclaren shirts and a short in the hallway, on her way to their bedroom he'd assume, with a bowl of what was either watermelons or strawberries.
"Sweetheart," lando spoke, ignoring the task at hand "can I have some please?"
"Of course mon soleil"
Entering the room, yn took a look at both boys before going straight to her boyfriend. Lando's friends were glaring daggers at him as he just placed his hand on the back of yn's hands as she placed a piece of watermelon in his mouth, making him hum pleasantly at the sweetness that filled his mouth.
"This is so unfair." Ginge complained
"I know mate, such bullshit, we should get to eat that as well."
"Yeah sure." lando agreed as yn placed another piece in his awaiting mouth.
"Well, now you're just being a dick. Come on yn, I want some as well."
"Are you asking my girl to feed you?"
"You're not letting me out of this workout anytime soon now, are you?"
"I think you should add weights onto their backs," yn stated as she smiled innocently at ginge and ethan "Charles, Arthur and Enzo always fo that to each other for the hell of it."
"Oh, you are evil miss leclerc, truly evil."
Ethan watched as lando told ginge to not lean with the weights pushing his neck, it was tough and they only had like a third of what lando usually does.
"So, who usually does this with you? Like you have to have someone to like push the weights, right?"
"Yeah yeah, usually it's my trainer, but then when something comes up or I just feel like training on my own it's yn who's helping."
"Oh look at him just rubbing it in that he has a girlfriend."
"Oh god," lando laughed in disbelief "you're the one who asked."
"The important question is," ginge started as he removed the equipment from his forehead "can yn do this? Like the neck training."
Lando stayed quite, thinking if he'd ever seen his girlfriend doing it or if her or her brothers ever mentioned that she does it. "No, I don't think so. Hold on."
Leaving the room, lando headed into the bedroom having a quick discussion away from the camera and the mics.
"So," lando said as he entered the room with yn behind him "yn will be doing the neck training, we'll go with 5 kilos."
"How about 10?" Yn asked as she took a seat on the bench
"What?"
"Well, for a while charles was convinced I'd get into a car crash and he took me training with him for like a year or something, it was insane."
"I'm sorry, what?"
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satorusugurugurl · 2 months
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,498
Warning: stress, yelling, fighting, kisses, insecurity, self doubt, language, suggestive, whipped cream
A/N: Things are getting are getting spicy now!! Y'all aren't ready for part four!! A reminder, of you want to be included in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!
Part One, Part Two, Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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The smell of cedarwood, one you used to love, was now suffocating you like a toxic gas. Your eyes blurred in shock as Toji pressed his chest against your back. Letting you know this was real and you weren't in a drunken haze.
“Are you listening to me?” Toji spoke again, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I told you we need to talk.”
A year and a half ago, the old you would have given in, allowing him to give you any explanation he pulled out of his ass. You, however, had grown in your time away. You didn't have to listen to him.
“I don't want to talk to you.” Your voice trembles, not in fear, but in a boiling rage that was settling in your chest. “Get the fuck off me.” The disbelief in his eyes is almost comical, but he doesn't move. “Get! The! Fuck! Off! Me!”
Your ex listened this time, promptly stepping back and holding both of his hands out in front of him. “Jesus fuck, sorry. But I'm serious about talking to you.”
A scoff of disbelief is the only answer you gave him as you washed your hands. If you kept your body constantly moving, you wouldn't freeze up again. Despite your best efforts, your traitorous hands continued trembling. Unfortunately for you, Toji noticed this, his eyes lingering on your hands before drifting to your face as you dried them off.
“Do I make you that nervous?”
“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” The rage finally boiled over, like hot milk on a stove. “Nervous?! You think I'm nervous?!” You stormed forward, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.
Your rage and finger jabs only have Toji rolling his eyes. His much larger hand shot up, grabbing and squeezing your wrist. His skin on yours made you feel a certain way. That contact was something you craved before, something you felt like you needed. Now? That contact made your stomach churn with nausea.
“Ya’ done lying?”
“Let me go.”
“No, I asked you a question. Are ya’ done lying?” Toji steps forward, crowding you against the wall. “Because we both know you're lying to yourself. You are nervous; you've been nervous since you stepped foot here in Kyoto with your friend.” His words stung like lashings from a whip. “I make ya’ nervous; that's why you've been avoiding me. And I don't like being ignored.”
A rage burned in your eyes as he waited for you to respond. How dare he corner you and act like you were the problem! You yank your wrist away, glaring up at him.
“That friend of mine is my boyfriend! And I'm not nervous around you. I can't stand you. Being around you makes me sick.”
“Oh, that's rich. Why is that Y/N? Why do I make you sick?”
“What makes me sick?! Toji, did you forget you broke off our engagement a month before our wedding? You broke my heart! Being around you fuckin’ hurts; do you not understand that!? So what you see as nervousness is me trying to heal!” Toji’s eyes widened as you continued your rant. “So that’s why I have no desire to talk to you! I don't care what you have to say!” But knowing Toji, he wouldn't back down so easily. “But you won't leave me alone unless you say whatever the fuck it is you want to say! So what is it, come to gloat about your life as a married man? Come to show me a picture of your pretty wife?”
“Watch it.”
“Or did she find out about your gambling problem and can't handle it? So you want me back so I can take care of us?” You had fully intended for that to hurt, but your insults just bounced off him. A smirk turned at the corner of his scarred lip.
“You think I'd actually want you back?”
His words stung like a million scorpion stings. It knocked the air out of your lungs as you felt your stomach drop. Toji slowly came to the realization of what he had said, his smirk falling as he saw the tears in your eyes.
“Y/N, fuck, I didn't mean it like that.”
You shoved your way past him; your heart thundered in your ears as you grabbed your sweater and bag off your chair. All of your friends were far too drunk to notice the state you were in, waving bye as you headed for the door, dialing Satoru’s number. Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to keep some composure.
He picked up on the first ring. “Our first drunk call; I'm so excited to hear all the cute things you're gonna say.” When Satoru doesn’t hear the commotion of the bar, his teasing tone vanishes. “Y/N?” God, he sounds sincere, like he might care for you. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”
“T-Toji’s here, and I—” a sob rips through your chest, “I can't do this.”
“Where are you?” You listen to him shuffling a door opening and closing.
“Outside of the bar.”
“Is he around?”
“N-No.”
His breathing was shallow; the background was breaking in and out. Was he—running? Why would he come running to you?
“Good, stay there; I'm on my way.” The line went dead, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone.
The inn was nearby, so it shouldn't take him long, maybe a ten-minute walk, maybe faster since he was running. But he couldn't come soon enough. Your head kept turning toward the door to the bar, anxiously waiting to see if Toji came out. God, you prayed he wouldn't.
Your chest was constricting, and your eyes blurred as you fought against the tears threatening to escape. You didn't want to cry more. Because it was a waste of time, energy, and tears. There was no sense in crying over something so silly!
“You think I’d actually want you back?”
His words were on a loop. Slicing into your still bleeding heart, cutting new wounds, deeper ones. Which was so stupid! You would never get back to him! Even if he asked you to. You two had grown apart, your relationship toxic. So why did it bother you so much? Words from a man that hadn't been in your life for so long!
You glanced towards the night sky, the stinging feeling slowly turning numb. You knew deep down why it hurt. A reason that made you feel sick and weak. Like some fucking pathetic character from a soapy book.
If Toji didn't want you, who would?
A hand gently grabs your shoulder, turning you around. You turn, expecting to look up to the almost magical blue eyes of Satoru. Only you can find dark blue eyes. You step back, only to have Toji grab your purse and yank it, pulling You back towards him.
“Leave me the fuck alone!!” Toji flinched at your broken plea. “Haven't you done enough tonight?!”
“Look, I’m sorry! I didn't mean it like that!”
You fight against every urge to punch him. “Oh!? Okay, what did you mean when you said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back?’ Because it seems like you meant it to me!” Your purse falls to the ground as Toji pulls you closer. His hands clamp down on your upper arms to prevent you from moving away.
“Will you shut the fuck up for five damn minutes!?”
More tears stream down your face; your eyebrows knitted together pathetically as he bent down slightly, forcing you to look up at him. There was no use fighting it. He wasn't going to stop; you were trapped.
Satoru was breathing heavily as he turned the same corner he'd walked with you earlier. When he did, he froze in his tracks, seeing you and your prick of an ex standing outside. Toji was squeezing you, yelling something in your face. Satoru’s heart clenched when he saw the way your eyebrows pinched together. You were distraught, visibly upset, and you—you were crying.
Something inside Satoru’s chest snapped, and he bolted forward, rage painted over his features. “Hey!”
Your head whirled towards his voice, Y/H/C hair, tear droplets flying. He swears it happened in slow motion; fuck, you were even pretty when you were upset. Your face softened, the disdain melting away like snow in the spring. All because he was there, knowing that he had that sort of effect on you made his heart race. Making you happy was all Satoru had wanted to do.
Something he had never felt with clients before. Because the more time he spent with you, the more Satoru got to know you, the less you became another client on his calendar. To him, you weren't just a number, a dollar in his bank account, were Y/N.
His Y/N.
Not this fucking assholes. Not anymore! Satoru grabbed Toji’s wrist, forcing him to release you. Your ex-fiance glowered as Satoru pulled you to stand behind him. When your hands clung to his shirt, he released his vice grip on Toji’s wrist.
“You again.” Toji sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, me, the boyfriend.” Satoru crowded Toji, the two men face to face. “I’m guessing you didn't hear me the first time.” He eyed your ex up and down. “If Y/N wants to talk to you, she will. But as you can see, she doesn't, so fuck off.”
Satoru backed off as you buried your face into his back. He knew you were crying. Still, your body was trembling, hands clinging to him, keeping you grounded so you didn't break down. The state you were in irked him the wrong way, and his fist clenched, longing to hurt the dick who'd hurt you as much as he’s done to you.
“I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and Y/N. So you fuck off.”
“I'm Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo family business. I'm also dating Y/L/N Y/N, and I plan on being with her for a very long time! Got it?! Good now, if you’ll excuse us; I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner, asshole.”
Satoru felt your grip loosen around him, a little gasp leaving your lips. “T-Toru.” A nickname, you gave him a nickname. God, he felt like he could fly.
“I got you, let's go.” Turning around, Satoru started leading you down the sidewalk.
He barely made it a foot away before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. Both fists shot up, ready to fight. Toji instead shoved your purse in his face. “Some boyfriend, you are almost leaving without her bag.” Toji waved at you as he headed back into the bar. “We’ll finish this another time, Y//N.” Satoru glared at him until Toji was inside; the second he was gone, Satoru grabbed your hand, leading you down the street.
You didn't say a word, but your smaller fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to lead you away. He pulled into a ramen shop, helping you in a booth before sitting across from you. You were wiping at your eyes, but more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. Satoru’s heart shattered seeing you so upset like this.
“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “I god, I'm sorry, Satoru.”
“No, don't apologize.” He reached out, replacing your hand with his own. His thumbs gently brushed tears away. “What happened?”
You laughed, but it wasn't your usual happy laugh. No, this laugh was full of sorrow. Satoru didn't like it when you laughed like that.
With a breathless sigh, you leaned into his hand. “Toji cornered me in the bathroom. He kept wanting to talk, and well, things were said.” Your lips brushed over Satoru’s palm as you spoke. “In the midst of my anger, I asked if his wife found out about his gambling problem. And if he wanted me back to take care of him like I did. Jokingly, of course, and he—” Your bottom lip quivered. “H-He uhm, god, it's so stupid—”
“It's not stupid, please tell me.”
You took a deep breath, “He said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back.’” Your voice was so fragile as you repeated those pain-ridden words to him.
“Are you kidding me?” Satoru’s other hand cupped your other cheek. Holding your face gently as he watched as your face contorted with emotional pain. “This is the part where you tell me you're joking, right? That he didn't say that shit to you?” The mind-numbing silence was the answer to his question. “That motherfucker, I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.”
“I-I didn't even mean it, ya’ know? I wouldn't get back together with him.”
“Good, because there's no way in hell I would allow you to get back together with that asshole. You deserve so much more.”
Your Y/E/C widened and glittered under the lights at his words. “You think I deserve more?” Satoru nodded, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. The look on your face was full of hope, a look Satoru had never seen grace your beautiful features before. But that light faded just as fast as it appeared.
It was doubt; you had been hurt so much in the past that you doubted the genuine words he was saying.
”Hey, I don’t say shit. I don’t mean.” Satoru whispered.
”I know, I just, I’m so confused.”
”Confused because you’re drunk?”
”No, I’m pretty much sober now.” You sighed, pulling away from his grasp. “I just, I’m conflicted.”
”Conflicted over what?” He cocked an eyebrow as you flushed. “Tell me.”
You gulped down some water before running a hand through your hair. “I just, us.” Satoru perked up. “I know I hired you to be my wedding date and all. But I like you.” You chugged more of the water down like it gave you courage. “And it’s not only because you’re super fucking hot. I also like talking to you, god I love talking to you.” Satoru’s cheeks flushed, watching you closely. “But what is the cherry on top of the sundae of you being everything I’d want in a partner is the fact that you came running for me today.”
”Y/N—“
”You dropped everything and came running to me. Like a scene from a Rom-Com.” Your nails clanked nervously over the glass, your gaze drifting toward the awe-struck Satoru. “I know I hired you, and this is your line of work. But I can't stop thinking about the kisses—mmmph!”
Before you could finish your last word, Satoru grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. His fingers gripped your chin but shifted to hold your cheek in his hand, cupping it gently. With wide eyes, you slowly kissed him back, melting against him.
Satoru slowly pulled away, his thumb moving down, caressing your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this about a client before.” He panted softly.
”Really?” You smiled wide as Satoru hummed happily.
”That day we talked on the phone, I knew there was something different about you. Something I want to explore.” You giggled, tears forming in your eyes as he wiped them away. “So, what do you say we order dessert here for a little date?”
You looked around before shaking your head. “No.” Satoru’s face went pale as he looked you over, searching for an explanation. “The dessert here is shit, let’s go back to the inn, and I’ll make us something?” Satoru's breath was full of relief as he stood up, grabbing your hand tight.
”You are such a brat.”
Despite being a brat, Satoru followed you back to the inn. He watched with curious eyes as you moved around the clean kitchen. You were pulling out mixing bowls, cream, and chilled sheet cake. Your tiny hands so gracefully washed strawberries, your touch gentle as if they would fall apart if you handled them any other way.
Everything you did was done with skills he did not possess. Slicing strawberries, cutting the vanilla cake into the perfect symmetrical cubes. Satoru found himself under a spell as he watched your every move. God, you looked so gorgeous in a zone like this. Your smile, the way you move with purpose, focused on constructing the dessert you promised him.
You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He grinned as he rose from his seat, striding towards you as you poured heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer before switching it on at medium speed. Satoru had a certain gleam in his eyes as he oh’d and awed at the cream inside the mixer. He was so fascinated, and he looked like a child in a candy store.
You tapped his shoulder, handing him a small vial. “Want to help me? You can put the vanilla in.” Satoru eagerly took it, opening it. He sniffed the bottle before looking down at you.
“Give me a hand?”
“Sure,” your hand slowly ran over the top of his, “just do a little bit.” The two of you poured some vanilla into the mixing bowl. A rich smell wafted up in the air. “Was this just an excuse for me to touch your hand?”
“What?” His tone was full of faux confusion. “No, never.” He quickly put the vial of vanilla down, his fingers interlacing with yours as he pulled you into his side. “What's the next step, chef?”
“We add in sugar.” You worked your culinary magic, sweetening the whipped cream. “And that is how I make my whipped cream; I use it at the bakery.”
“I love the whipped cream at the Ichigo Cafe.” Satoru groaned out, looking into the bowl. “So fluffy and sweet!”
You tapped your fingers on the bowl. “Why don't you taste it? Tell me if it's sweet enough for you. Mr. Six packets of sugar in my coffee.” He turned to face you, resting his hand on his hip with a smirk.
“I am not at all ashamed of my likes, Y/N.” he pulled the top of the mixer up. “I like my treats sweet; I am the Gordon Ramsey of desserts!”
“Satoru, watch out for the switch!”
Satrou smacked the switch while scooping a finger full of whipped cream. The whisk attachment spun around several times, splattering the two of you with bloats of sweetened cream. Satoru quickly turned it off, looking around at the white mess.
A big blob of whipped cream fell off his nose, smacking into the metal table. The sound, his eyes slowly glancing at it, and the stunned look on his face knocked over your giggle box. Your head tilted back as rich, warm laughter flooded the kitchen. Making Satoru melt as he wiped the whipped cream off his face, licking it off his fingers.
The sight of his fingers dipping into his mouth. Had you choking on your laughter? Cerulean eyes burned as he slowly pulled his finger out, smirking. His thumb brushed out your lip, smearing whipped cream over it. The action had you breathing heavily.
“Tastes sweet, but I think you're sweeter.” He leaned down, his lips brushed over your cheek. “Ten times sweeter.”
You closed the distance this time. Pusjingnhis back against the table. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss—the taste of your whipped cream lingering on his tongue. Your sudden boldness had Satoru stumbling, eyes wide as you shoved Your tongue in his mouth, much like he had done to you earlier.
He whined, shutting his eyes tight as he grabbed Your hips, pulling you tight against him. “You're so beautiful, god Y/N.” He whispered in between heated kisses. “I think I started falling for you since that first phone call.” His honesty had you whining against his lips as he sucked and nipped at your bottom lip.
“Satoru~”
“God, I want you; I want you so bad, Y/N.”
Your heart lurched into your throat as you pulled away, staring into those blue eyes you were falling for. Satoru wanted you. He legitimately wanted you. Not just to take you out on a date, but he wanted you in ways you hadn't been wanted in a very long time. Ways you told yourself and Satoru you didn't need. But the desperation in his kisses, how his tongue moved against yours, and the hard bulge growing in his pants had your heart thundering, utterly breathless, and oh-so-wet
“Toru.” He groaned, trailing kisses over your neck, his hand squeezing your hips. “Toru.”
He pulled back, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry as much as I want you. I don't want to rush you.” Your hands trailed over his toned stomach, fingers undoing the button to his jeans.
“Toru, take me to our room.”
Tag list: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)
@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovely212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator
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cheapshrimpysheep · 11 months
Text
You... Cheater? - Demon Brothers
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SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?
(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)
CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)
TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)
WORD COUNT: An average of 470 words per character.
👉 You… Cheater? - Side Characters
COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.
I hope you enjoy ;)
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CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom, maybe out shopping for dinner. And he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.
This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.
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Lucifer decided to walk up to “you” and have a conversation with “you” right there. But when “you” and the other demon saw him, both ran away. He didn't follow them. He stopped right there and it only took a few seconds for him to realize that something was wrong. That couldn't be you. It does not make sense. You wouldn't cheat on him. Who would?
Part of him doesn't believe it was you because he knows you and your character. But the other part that doesn't believe it was you is his Pride. Cheat on Lucifer? With someone like Diavolo he could understand, but a lower demon? No, that wasn't you, you're not that stupid! However, he can't help but have a very small fear that it really was you. But that one is irrational, it can't be right.
He asks you to go talk to him in his office and, of course, you have no idea what he saw. So, you don't know what he wants to talk to you about.
“Where were you while I was away?” is the first thing he asks after telling you that you can come in. You are confused, but the truth is, you've been playing with Levi in his room. Then some of the other brothers also showed up to play, so you have a lot of alibis.
“Did Solomon ever teach you how to duplicate yourself?” If you respond with "Is that possible?!" and an obvious face of surprise, he will burst out laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if it was.” he continues and tells you about what he saw on the street.
Your reaction tells him everything he needs to know and confirms his suspicions. “Don't worry, I knew it wasn't you. I just wanted to confirm with you.” he lifts your chin and kisses your lips “I would never fall in love with a cheater.”
And then, he hugs you. It starts out like a normal hug, but after his arms are around you, you feel them tighten slightly. As if that little irrational side of him that worried him was showing how relieved he was that it really wasn't you. As if that little irrational part of him, that told him what he'd seen could be real, was showing you how relieved he was wrong.
“I don't know who those demons were.” He says, slowly breaking the hug and looking at you. “Yet.” You see his eyes, a look very similar to the one he usually has when he wants to punish his brothers. But this one was worse. “I will find out who they were. They need to be reminded why they shouldn't deceive us. Of course you are more than welcome to join me, after all they had the audacity to impersonate you.”
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We all know Mammon is the emotional type not the rational one. So... he’s completely desolate, devastated, he’s heart shattered in pieces. It didn't even cross his mind that it might not be you, despite the number of times he said to himself "No, no, no, no, no, no..." He didn't have the courage to face “you”. He even dropped the purchases he made. One of the items he bought was a gift for you. And he run away.
He didn't come home. After all, you were there and seeing you would be too painful. But nobody knew about it. But nobody knew about it. Well, actually he went home, without the groceries and without listening to anyone. He just went straight to his room and left again, but this time on his car. You haven't seen him.
It's when everyone else goes to talk to you about not knowing where he is and being his turn to make dinner that you decide to go to his room and summon him. I mean, you have no idea where he is either. He doesn't respond to your messages. Summoning him will bring him straight to you, straight to home.
He appears and falls on his butt. “OI! WHAT THE-?!” he looks at you. His eyes were reddish and his cheeks wet. You ask what happened, worried. “You... I... You know what happened!” But you don’t. “Yes you do! I saw you! I saw... you two...”
“Us two? You mean Asmo and I? Of course you saw us. You came with us.” You remind him that the three of you went shopping together, but Asmo wanted to buy a new perfume and wanted you to go with him. So Mammon went to buy the rest of the stuff.
He is clearly embarrassed. “W-wait, s-so you were with Asmo the whole time?” Yes, you still even smelled like the perfume he bought. “S-so... you weren't sneaking kissing another demon on the street?” What the heck was he talking about?! Of course not! Does he really thought you would be kissing a random demon on the street when you could be making out with him? Your first?! And you tell him that. He's such a dummy!
He hugs you desperately. And he starts to cry again, but this time with relief. His face on your shoulder, he can't even speak, just sob. As if you just woke him up from a nightmare. You hug him back and kiss him on the forehead.
He really needs some time with you now. He's not really the vindictive type. He just wants you, your love and affection, although it took him a while to admit it. So you two cuddle for a while on his sofa. Until he remembered his car was parked somewhere.
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Levi is also a very emotional person but worse: he is the Avatar of Envy. Just like any other sin can blind you, this one is the worst for what he saw. And even even worse, we know he doesn't have a good self-esteem. Put it all together and he never felt worse in his life. He won't talk to "you", he will run back home and lock himself in his room.
You had agreed that when he arrived you would go to his room to play the new game he had gone out to buy. But he didn't tell you he was back. It was one of the brothers who told you that he had seen him arrive and enter the room.
You go to his room, knock on the door, but he doesn't answer. You try as many times as it takes until he says he wants to be alone and doesn't want to talk to anyone. Messages don't work either. Only when you threaten to break down the door does he let you in.
The lights are off and he's hiding under the covers in the bathtub. You ask what's going on and again he takes a long time to answer you. He’s more the type of avoiding talk and/or see you. Listening to you is painful enough already. Worried, you slowly approach and ask again, in your sweetest voice, what was going on.
“I SAW IT, OK!?” he exploded, without coming out from under the covers, his voice cracking. “I... saw it... I saw you... on the street...” He saw you on the street? Was he talking about seeing you and Satan on the book store? “WHAT? No!” He got up, uncovering himself from the blankets. His eyes were reddish and a few tears were still falling down his cheeks. “I saw you kissing that demon on the street.” he calms down a bit and starts talking about that shouldn't surprise him. Even a lower demon was better than him. Of course he would never be enough for you. Someone like him? Of course not. You deserved better. You would even deserve the crown of Devildom...
Well, you don't remember kissing Satan on the street, so you have no idea what he's talking about. You tell him you went out with Satan to the bookstore and you were with him the whole time until you got back home. Levi could ask him. Whoever he saw wasn't you.
It takes a while for him to process that and realize that who he saw really wasn't you. And for him to throw himself into your arms. He's not afraid to cry in front of you, and on your shoulder. His hug is tight, desperately and lovingly tight.
He tells you again about his fear of losing you, of you leaving him. You end up getting in the bathtub with him. Cuddling with and reassuring him. Saying you would never leave him, how much you love him. He needs you now, he needs to recover from the shock that luckily wasn't real.
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What have those two demons just done? Envy is a very bad sin to be the avatar of in a situation like that. But even worse is Wrath! Satan instantly assumed his demon form, throws the groceries to who knows where, and walked towards the two. They noticed him approach by the heavy and determined steps and fled. He stopped. “You” looked at him with such fear in “your”eyes, it shocked him.
He didn't mean to hurt “you”, he never would! But “you” hurt him. How could this be happening? You weren't like that, you were so kind and lovable... Wait, you're not like this. Something is wrong. And he only realizes this after stopping and calming down a bit. Something he learned from you. No! You wouldn't do this. Something was really wrong and he needed to talk to you now!
As soon as he gets home, he asks the first brother of his he sees if you are there. And after hearing a yes he runs to your room. Ignoring the "Why? What's going on?" after that yes.
He knocks at your door while calling your name. You open the door and he rushes into the room, closing the door behind you and practically "Kabedon" you against the door. “Have you been here the whole time?” he seems to contain some kind of anger. It worries you a little, but at these times you know you need to be the calm person. And yes, you were home that whole time. In fact, you spent a lot of time helping Mammon with his studies. He practically begged for your help to avoid another punishment from Lucifer.
You seemed sincere, but still: “So, you never left the house? Not even to go shopping?” You think for a moment. But no, pretty sure you never left the House of Lamentation. And the hours of study were very long. You both know what a bad student Mammon is.
He sighs, lowers his head for a moment and then drops down to hug you. It is a tender and relieved hug. “I’m sorry.” he whispers in your ear. “I just... wanted to make sure..." you hug him back and finally feel like it's the right time to ask what's going on.
He tells you what he saw on the street. The shock on your face is further proof to him that it wasn't really you he saw. As he thinks about what that could have been, his expression change. The expression of the true Avatar of Wrath.
“The only explanation is that someone impersonated you. I don't know who they were but I'll find out. And I couldn't care less if there were any reason for them to do that. Nobody tarnishes your name! I will find them, and when I do I'll make them regret even the air they breathe today.”
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Asmo doesn't think you are cheating on him. After all he’s the Avatar of Lust, he better than anyone understands the concept of One-night stand. But he can't help but get a sour feeling in his stomach. He used to do one-night stands, but that was before he meet you. After that he couldn't do it anymore, he just wanted you. And he thought you only wanted him. What was happening to him?
He thought of going to you. Ask if he could join. That would look like him, but no, he can't, that's not what he wants to do. It's nothing related to his sin that he wants to do. He felt more like... Levi? Could it be jealousy? Him?! He needed to go home. ASAP!
He does his best to pretend that nothing is wrong, that he just came back from shopping and didn't see anything special. Maybe he'll come up with some story about a purse he saw, just to keep up the facade that everything was fine.
He'll avoid you for awhile, flashing you a smile you knew was fake. It was at dinner time, after he sent a message to the brothers' group saying he didn't feel well and therefore wouldn't have dinner that you decided to go to his room and check on him.
He is reluctant to let you in, but he still wants to show you that everything is fine, so he gives in at the second or third knock. He is sitting on the bed. And not even all the make-up he could put on his face would manage to hide from you the sadness that was really in his eyes. Despite his smile. He tells you not to worry, but it's when you insist that you can tell something is wrong that he decides to tell you the truth.
“I... I wanted to ask you.” he puts back on his everything is fine mask “Who was that new demon friend of yours?” You look confused at him. “I wasn't snooping, I promise. I just ended up seeing you two. You know, even if you try to hide yourself well there is still a possibility that someone will see you making out on the street.” he was forcing a smile, as if wanting to look like he was giving you genuine advice. But you got even more confused. What the heck was he talking about?
“Aww, don't worry hon, I'm not mad. I... think...” he mutters to himself and then goes back to talking to you. “You don't need to hide it from me. I saw it with my own eyes, you know?” you see his eyes water slightly. He's trying so hard not to cry.
But you weren't on that street today. “What?!” he widens his eyes, as if seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You tell him you've been with Lucifer at RAD most of the day, helping him with paperwork. And even when you came home, you came back with him. And that was it. That and you wouldn't making out with a random demon on the streets. You have standards. and they only skyrocketed after you met Asmo.
He believes in you, he always believed in you and you really seemed to be telling the truth. He finally breaks down in tears and jumps out of bed to hug you desperately. He is so happy to know that that wasn't you! But he's still confused about what he felt. He really needs to talk to you about this. But after dinner. His appetite has returned and he is starving.
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Beel doesn't know what to do. Should he pretend he didn't see anything? Should he go talk to you? He was so confused. You're not like this. what was happening? He... shouldn't interrupt, should he? He just grabs the groceries and heads home.
None of the groceries survived the trip. He ate up his feelings along the way. Or at least he tried. Lucifer was about to scold him, until he saw the look on his face and he just decided to let him go to his room and talk later. But the truth is, he would ask you to talk to him. And that's because even Belphie couldn't.
Belphie went to the attic to let you two talk alone in their bedroom. You knocked on the door, but Beel didn't answer. He didn't tell you to come in, but he didn't say you couldn't either. You walk in and see him lying on his bed with his back to you.
You slowly walk up to him and ask what's going on. He still doesn't respond. You sit on the bed and when you touch him, he flinches a little. Ok, now you're really worried. You ask him to please tell you what's going on, in your sweet, understanding voice.
He takes a deep breath and then slowly gets up to sit on the bed beside you. He still can't look at you. He doesn't look upset, just sad and confused. “I saw you on the street.” he calmly explains, with a sadness in the voice that breaks your heart “With that demon.”
What demon? What street? You haven't even left the house today. “What?!” he finally looks at you. He hadn't cried yet, but he was close to it. You tell him you didn't leave the house. You were even in the Planetarium with Belphie while Beel went shopping.
He believes in you, he always did and he never had any reason not to. And the same goes for Belphie. “So it wasn't you I saw on the street kissing another demon?” What? Of course not! What was he talking about?
He doesn't explain, he just smiles hugely and gives you one of his bear hugs. He tells you what he saw while hugging you. He doesn't care what he saw. He doesn't want to know who did it. The only thing that matters is that it wasn't really you. The real you was there, with him, hugging him back and letting him kiss you and kissing him back.
Then you hear his stomach rumble like a beast. His appetite had returned, and with a vengeance.
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What the F*ck was going on?! Did that filthy lower demon make you do that? Were you under some spell? Belphie was going to put an end to it NOW! He assumed his demon form, throws the groceries away and rushed towards “you”. But when “you” two see him, “you” run away. He runs after the two, but unfortunately for him, the demon manages to outrun him.
He comes back home looking for you and without the groceries. When Lucifer sees him and prepares to lecture him for not bringing the groceries, Belphie stops him and asks if you are at home. It’s important! Something might have happened to you. Lucifer says you're in your room and lets Belphie run to your door.
You hear him knocking urgently at your door. You open the door, and seeing the seriousness on his face you ask what happened. He stands still in silence for a moment, looking at you, analysing. Then he comes in and lets you close the door.
“Did you leave the house today?” he asks calmly. You say yes. “Where did you go?” That was weird, he wasn't the stalking type, he was too lazy for that. That and he was never like that, much less with Beel. You went with Beel to a new pastry shop that opened to try their drinks and sweets. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time there. You had to drag Beel back home because it was getting late. You two had only arrived home shortly before Belphie himself.
“You never left his side?” No. Why would you? You love hanging out with Beel. By the way you speak and your confused expression, he knows you're telling the truth. And his straight face instantly turns into a reassured, lazy laugh. “Ha ha ha. I knew that was weird. It wasn't even you.” And now that his good mood was back, you could safely ask what the heck was going on.
“Ummmmm... I'm too tired to tell. At least standing. You know, I saw something that made me worry about you, so I ran back to see if you were all right. I'm so sleepy right now. What if I told you while we cuddle in your bed?” That sly bastard, taking advantage of a subject like that for cuddles.
He tells you what happened while the two of you are in bed. But even though he's relaxed in your arms he doesn't fall asleep. “That was probably some demon impersonating you with some shapeshifting spell.” he says “If they had done that to me, I wouldn't care. But since you were the one they did this to, I'll make sure to find them and break their neck.” he said with a cute smile and already half asleep, which only made the threat worse. And then finally fell asleep in your arms.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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ghouljams · 5 months
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Missing (part 2) Tags: Ghost x f!reader/f!oc, 1870s cowboy au, kidnapping, guns, violence, damsel not exactly in distress Summary: Ghost finds the men that took his wife, and is reminded exactly why he fell for her in the first place. Part 1
The gag is overkill.
Although you suppose after hours of your swearing and threats, the multiple people you've bitten, and all the spitting in your captor's faces, it's reasonable. They've had to change your bindings at least three times, your hands bound in front, then moved to being bound behind your back, now your legs roped together as well. Fuckers can barely tie a decent knot, it's their fault you keep getting loose. The fact that they've confidently left you without a blindfold is a wonder. You can't imagine what they have to be so sure of themselves over.
You rub your wrists against one of the rocks poking you in the back, working the rope over the rough surface. It's not the sharpest thing around, but then again neither is the asshole "watching" you. He learned to keep his hands to himself after the second time you headbutted him. Even dogs know what "no" means.
You narrow your eyes at him, glare as he levels his pistol on you and makes a faux firing noise. When you get your hands on him...
A commotion further up in the cave draws your attention. Gunshots and shouting are never a good sign. You turn your head to listen, eyeing the opening to your little prison area. You watcher looks confident, or at least looks like he's trying to be confident. Moron. You work your ropes a little faster and feel the knot come loose. A last tug and you have to hold back a sigh feeling the rope untangle and fall to the ground.
You make a noise to try and get your watch's attention, he glances at you before fixing his eyes back on the entrance. You let out an exasperated breath and try again, louder, and really glare at him to make your point. "Shut up," He tells you. You give your best impression of fear and scream behind your gag. You don't particularly care if whoever's outside hears you, but it makes your watch crouch in front of you and wave his gun for you to see. "If you don't shut up, I'll give you somethin' to scream about," He threatens, just long enough for you to smash your head into his nose.
When he reels back to clutch his nose you make a grab for his pistol. It's enough of a surprise to keep his grip loose, and you're quick to clock him with the butt of the gun as soon as it's in your hands. You hit his temple square on and the man crumbles to the side. Asshole. You tug your gag down around your neck and debate shooting the guy as you untie the knots holding your ankles together. You suppose you have more important problems, you concede grabbing the rifle leaned next to his chair.
You check that it's loaded and holster the pistol in your skirt as best you can. "You just stay there, I'm gonna go find a ride." You tell the, you think he's unconscious, man on the ground. He doesn't object.
The commotion at the mouth of the cave seems to have drawn most of the outlaws hiding out in it, but that doesn't stop you from running into the few cowards that are still in the back. You dispatch them quickly, your rifle raised as you move through the cave's tunnel. It's too bad cowards are slow shots, smart of them to carry extra ammunition though. You swipe one of their hats, since they so rudely tossed yours.
You reload as you move, eyes darting between your hands and your way out. It's not a big cave, but you're happy to know the way out. Not a big crew either you decide, shooting the first man to see you as you find yourself in the open air of the main cavern. You're happy to see a familiar silhouette in the midst of the chaos near the mouth of the cave. The setting sun gives your husband a nice unearthly glow to him. You smash your rifle into the gut of the man that tries to come up behind you, and shoot another just to clear your path. You're not particularly in the mood for being grabbed again.
"What took you so long?" You yell, watching Ghost shoot a man twice between the eyes.
"Was picking up your wedding gift," He yells back, voice rough from a lack of sleep. At least he still has the energy to make jokes and shoot straight. He stalks over to you, flipping his pistol to bash the butt into the temple of the first man to try and stop him.
"Hell of a honeymoon," You grumble, shaking your head. Ghost stops in front of you his eyes fixed on your growing smile. "Hey there pretty boy," You grin, he snorts.
"Darlin'," He greets you with a quick tip of his head, "got a horse waitin' if you're ready."
"Any of these fools have a bounty on 'em?" You ask, glancing around your husband to eye the corpses littering the cave.
"Couple," He tells you, holding your chin to turn your head, inspecting you for injuries, "You look good."
You hum, "Better than the guys who were watching me." Ghost's eyes crinkle behind his mask, brown and warmly affectionate. Your heart clenches in your chest, he looks so proud of you.
"Good." He tugs his mask up and you catch the quirk of his smile, the tug of the scars around his mouth, just before he kisses you.
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chocopokkie · 2 months
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Bound by Shadows
Summary: You attempt to break up with Alastor but it doesn't go so well.
TW: Non-con, yandere-ish Alastor, forced relationship, smut (let me know if I missed any!)
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"I'm really sorry, Al," you murmur softly, your gaze avoiding his once-adoring eyes, now fixed with a grin that cuts deeper than any blade. "I just don't think we should be together anymore..."
"We can still be friends!" you hastily add, your voice betraying the tremor of uncertainty, "I just don't think—"
But before you can finish, a dark laugh cuts through the air like a chilling gust of wind.
"Haha!" Alastor's laughter drips with disdain as he interrupts, his tone laced with judgment. "My dear, I truly don't think you know what you're talking about. You think after everything I've done for you, you can just leave me, little doe? I believe I need to give you a reminder of who you belong to," he growls, his words like a predator's low warning growl.
Suddenly, the room shifts and morphs around you, the comforting walls of your room replaced by the dark, dense canopy of a forest. Panic surges through you, but before you can even grasp the gravity of the situation, you're violently shoved to the forest floor. The earthy scent fills your senses as black tendrils snake around your limbs, rendering escape impossible.
"Alastor, please, what are you doing?" you plead, your voice shaking with a mixture of fear and confusion. You attempt to struggle against the oppressive grip of the tendrils, but they hold you firmly in place, like iron chains. "Please, you're really scaring me!" you beg, desperation seeping into your words as you realize the gravity of the situation.
"Oh, as you should be, dear~," Alastor purrs sinisterly, his voice dripping with malevolence. "Because I'm going to make sure this is a lesson you never forget." With a snap of his fingers, the tendrils forcefully flip you over, leaving you on your knees with your face pressed against the cold, hard forest floor. Dread washes over you as you realize what's about to happen.
"N-No... Please..." you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, desperation tainting every syllable. "Okay, I'm sorry! Please, I'll never do anything like this again, I swear! I love you! Just please stop..." You plead, reaching out to him in a futile attempt to appeal to his humanity, to make him see reason. But all you receive in response is a dark chuckle that sends chills down your spine.
"Oh, I know, baby~," Alastor responds, his tone laced with a sickening mixture of affection and possessiveness. "But if you aren't punished, you might get that stupid idea of trying to leave me in that pretty little head of yours. And we can't have that again, now can we?"
Alastor moves quickly, his movements fluid yet unsettlingly precise. With a swift motion, he shoves your dress over your hips, the fabric bunching around your waist. You gasp in shock and protest, but before you can utter a word, his clawed finger slashes through your panties, cutting them away with a cruel efficiency.
His dark chuckle cuts through the air like a blade through silence. "Bad girls don't get any foreplay," he growls, his voice dripping with malice as he works at his pants, freeing his cock. With grace, he positions himself at your unprepared entrance.
"I'm sorry, Alastor! Please, just stop," you plead, desperation lacing your voice as tears stream down your face. You know there's nothing you can do to halt his actions, trapped and powerless against him.
Your scream rips through the air like a haunting melody as Alastor mercilessly shoves his entire length inside of you, setting a brutal pace that leaves you gasping for breath. Each thrust is accompanied by a symphony of pain and desperation, your pleas falling on deaf ears as he revels in your suffering. Alastor savors the sound of your cries, finding perverse pleasure in the symphony of agony echoing through the forest.
One of his hands snakes around to rub your clit, sending a jolt of unexpected pleasure coursing through your body. Your muscles tense and spasm in response to the new sensation, but the relentless grip of the tendrils keeps you firmly anchored to the forest floor, rendering you utterly helpless against Alastor's desires. He continues his assault, relishing in the control he exerts over your body and mind.
As the realization sinks in, a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach. You understand now that there's no escape from his grasp, no reprieve from his twisted desires. In that moment, it becomes painfully clear: you belong to him, body and soul, for eternity. Alastor has ensured that you'll never forget your place, sealing your fate with every merciless thrust and cruel manipulation. You are his forever, and he delights in reminding you of that fact.
You can never escape.
He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers with a cruel intimacy, "Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" With renewed vigor, he increases the speed and pressure on your clit, driving you to the brink of ecstasy even as tears streak down your face, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations coursing through your body.
As you came around Alastor's cock, he resumes his brutal pace. His claws dig into your hips, leaving marks of possession as he relentlessly chases his own release. With a guttural groan, you feel him twitch inside you, his hot seed spilling deep within, painting your walls white with his essence.
"Now then, have you learned your lesson, love?" Alastor's voice cuts through the haze of pain and confusion, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. Gradually, you feel the tendrils loosen their grip around you, allowing you to collapse onto the forest floor, your body trembling with exhaustion and sobs wracking your frame.
"Y-yes," you manage to whisper weakly, your voice barely audible amidst the turmoil of emotions raging within you.
"Lovely~. Now get yourself cleaned up! We have reservations tonight!" His words, almost sickeningly cheerful, echo in your ears as he strides away, leaving you alone in the cold darkness of the forest. As you lay there, broken and defeated, you can't help but reconsider everything—your choices, your worth, and the twisted dynamic that binds you to him in ways you never imagined possible.
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lizthewriter · 6 months
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like snow on the beach / theodore nott
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PAIRING  theodore nott x bubbly!fem!reader
SUMMARY  christmas is your absolute favorite time of the year! the tree, the lights, the music, the food . . . however, to you, the most important thing about christmas is spending it with your loved ones.
your world falls apart when you find out you can't go home for the holidays. you're stuck at hogwarts with a bunch of stuffy professors and zero loved ones. however, you make an unlikely friend who also happens to be stuck at hogwarts for the holidays . . . and you find out he despises christmas. you make it your mission to prove him wrong.
TAGS  theodore nott x bubbly!fem!reader, christmas, holiday cheer, the power of belief, reader loves christmas, this is soooo dash and lily coded, inspired by dash & lily's book of dares, grumpy!theodore nott, simp!theodore nott, i'm a slut for pathetic men 😩
QUOTE  "i've never seen someone so lit from within, / blurring out my periphery, / my smile is like i won a contest, / and to hide that would be so dishonest," - snow on the beach by taylor swift, featuring lana del rey
WORD COUNT  5.7K
WRITTEN  12.4.2023
You shoved your hands in your pockets - despite the fact that you were wearing gloves in this freezing weather, you could still feel the harsh wind nipping at your skin. Here you stood at Hogsmeade station, your friends boarding the train as you watched in discontent. They were all going home for the holidays this year, but you were going to be stuck at Hogwarts. No Christmas tree, no baking gingerbread cookies, no sipping on hot chocolate while snuggled in a warm blanket, no watching holiday movies. Just the freezing cold and your own company.
You plastered a grin on your face when the train began to move and waved to your friends. They bid you their last goodbye from their compartment window. Once the train disappeared from your sight, you trudged your way back up the path to Hogwarts. Well, the sight of the castle was beautiful, in the very least. You could see snow capping the towers and covering the shingles. But even then, it was just another reminder that you were here and not there, at home, with your family. There was only one thing to cheer you up.
-
"Afternoon Madame Pince," you greeted softly as you walked into the library. She sent you a stiff nod in return. While she didn't really like anyone in paticular, she was at least kinder to you than other students.
You knew exactly which books you wanted to cozy up with by a warm, crackling fire. Dashing across the library, you ammassed an entire stack of books, one that was tall enough to obstruct your vision. You waddled through another row, searching the shelves for one paticular title. Spotting it on a high shelf, you found a rolling stool and pushed it with your foot until it was directly under the book you seeked. You tried to place your pile of books somewhere, but it wouldn't fit on the sheleves and you couldn't plop them onto the floor without angering Pince. Stupidly, you decided to step up onto the stool, carrying the pile of books under one arm all while reaching for the desired book. Of course, you should have expected what came after.
You lost your balance, the books tumbling backward out of your arm, the weight of them pulling you down too. You fell off of the stool and expected your head to meet the bookcase behind you, but in your suprise felt someone catch you as your books loudly clattered to the ground.
It took you a moment to catch your breath, to let the adrenaline and fear run it's course before you turned towards your savior. He was tall, devilishly handsome, but with oddly dead eyes. He had an odd way about him - devastatingly beautiful, yet there was this aura of melancholy around him. It was unusually attractive.
"You all right?" He asked, his tone short and gruff.
"Yeah . . . sorry about that. Should've just put my books down somewhere, I suppose."
"What is all this noise?" Madame Pince's striking voice ring throughout the library, her footsteps approaching rapidly. Soon enough, she turned around the corner and let out the most horrified gasp, hand flying to her mouth. She glanced at the two of you with a dark, murderous glare. You suddenly became aware of the fact that his hands were on your shoulders and your back was resting against his chest. "You two! Out of the library at once! I will not have you diabolic teenagers destroying the sanctity of this library! Out! Out!"
She shooed the both of you out of the library and slammed the door in your faces. Now there you were, banned from the library, with no means of proper entertainment. Of course.
Bah humbug, you thought.
"Great," said the boy sarcastically. "As if I have anything else to do now." He sighed and turned around, bumping his head against the wall.
"I'm so sorry!" You squeaked, a blush rising to your cheeks.
"Don't be," he responded, turning back around. "It's not your fault."
Realization struck just then - you recognized him. "Wait . . . you're Theodore Nott, right?"
"You've been stalking me, have you?" His tone was always one of solemnity, so it really wasn't your fault that you couldn't tell he was joking.
"No, of course not, I've just seen you in a few of my classes is all," you responded, quite defensively, but mostly out of embarrassment. "You're in Malfoy's gagle of friends . . . shouldn't you be at home with your family?"
"Shouldn't you?" He returns swiftly.
"Point well taken," you respond with a grimace. He didn't respond and neither did you - what was there to say? You had never really had to interact with him, you weren't friends . . . yet you felt some sort of pull towards him. Like an invisible string that kept you hooked. He did save you from falling to possible death after all. "Well, you know, now that neither of us have anything to do, we could . . . I don't know, hang out or something?"
"Why?"
You arched a brow at him. "You got anything better to do?"
A flash of a smile flitted across his face. "Point well taken."
-
You were once again snuggled in a large coat, a knit hat atop your head and a large wool scarf pooling out of your jacket. Theodore's hands were shoved into the pockets of his thick, plaid trench coat. His hair billowed in the wind as the two of you wandered the ground, snow falling around you.
"So!" You jumped in front of him and began to walk backwards, keeping the same pace as before. "What is your absolute, favorite part about Christmas?"
Theo simply shrugged. "I don't have one." Your jaw almost dropped to the floor - how could he not have a favorite part about Christmas? Christmas, to you, represented love, family, and compassion. You loved everything about it: the tree, the lights, the music, the food, the presents. In fact, there wasn't one thing you could pick as your favorite because you adored all of Christmas too much.
Your shocked expression didn't seem to suprise Theodore in the slightest. "You don't have one?" You reiterated in disbelief, stopping. He jolted when you stopped walking, the two of you damn near as close as you were in the library. "But it's Christmas?" Theodore shrugged again. "You don't like Christmas?"
"No, truthfully . . . my family doesn't really do Christmas," he responded begrudgingly, glancing out at the Forbidden Forest as though he were disinterested. Really, he just didn't want to get into detail about his personal matters.
"Oh," you could only respond. Now that you thought of it, you could only imagine what Nott had to deal with at home, being a pureblood and all that. You knew that a lot of pureblood families were abusive and strict.
Suddenly, everything became clear. His family may not do Christmas, but you certainly do . . . you want him to feel the Christmas spirit that you do. Doesn't he deserve to understand exactly what the holidays are all about?
He tilted his head in curiosity as a grin spread across your rosy cheeks. Your eyes glittered with excitement and something akin to child-like wonder. "You know what? No. I'm going to prove to you that Christmas is the best time of the year."
Nott let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He kicked at the snow, staring down at the ground as he shook his head. "I don't think you can."
"Do I hear Theodore Nott turning down a challenge?" You asked, cupping your ear with a mock judgemental expression. "Are you scared that I'm right, is that what it is?"
Nott sighed, biting back a grin as he finally met your eyes. "Fine. But I'm telling you now, it's not going to work."
"Oh, we'll see."
-
Theodore would be lying if he said he hasn't had his eye on you. How could he not? How could anyone not? You were quite literally the most outgoing person in your year. You were friends with mostly everyone, give a select few, and participated in many different student organizations. You were modest yet brash, kind yet firm, intelligent yet open-minded. You weren't afraid to speak your mind, even if it made you unpopular with certain crowds. He admired that about you.
So admittedly, the main reason he had gone to the library was in hopes that you'd be there. He's trying building up the courage to talk to you in the past, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Must be the reason why he's not a Gryffindor.
He felt an odd feeling in his chest when he saw you - as if he were so light he could float away, but also regurgitate his lunch all over the hundreds-year old carpet. He built himself up in his head and finally followed you into the rows of bookcases. When he saw you struggling with your pile of books, he froze, insecurities clouding his mind like a thunderstorm hurtling through his head. But when you were about to fall down, he instantly forgot whatever he had been thinking about and jumped to your rescue. Catching you, feeling you pressed against his chest, his nose burrowed in your sweet-smelling hair, he couldn't help but feel his heart beating incredibly fast and hard.
Finally, when the two of you were outside touring the grounds and you had so optimistically wanted to prove to him that Christmas was the best time of the year . . . he couldn't help but want you to prove him wrong.
That's why he was fussing over his hair as he stared in the bathroom mirror, tilting his head back and forth. It took him a whole ten minutes before he decided his hair would never comply and threw on his favorite plaid trench coat. You hadn't told him where the two of you were going, but he trusted that you weren't trying to pull anything funny.
You turned around as he exited the Slytherin dorm, the portrait slamming close behind him. He felt his stomach twist nervously as he looked at you - you were dressed rather festively, wearing a short green and red plaid skirt along with a mahogany turtleneck. Mini ornament earrings hung from your hears, gently bobbing as you turned to face him with an excited smile.
"Ready? Wonderful!" You exclaimed. "Come on, let's go!" He joined your side as you began walking at a brisk pace up the stairs. You lead him outside, chattering about holiday traditions you and your family had. He couldn't help but be enraptured by you - the way your eyes twinkled with joy and your hands gestured feverishly. Your bright rosy cheeks and how your scarf made them look plump and adorable.
"Oh, sorry, I've been rambling on so much you haven't even been able to get a word in!" You said, chuckling nervously, hoping that he wasn't annoyed with you.
"No, I like listening to you talk," he assured you pointedly. "Go on."
"But -"
"Honestly. I don't mind."
He could see your shoulder visibly sag with relief and you continued to explain to him as you walked down stone steps towards a small little hut next to the forest.
"What's that?" He asked you, gesturing to the hut.
"You'll see," you replied with a secretive smile. Once you were standing on the front steps of the house, the sound of a dog barking resonated from within. You knocked on the door with force, three times.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" A gruff voice responded from within. "Oi Fang, back! Get back, you mangy mutt!" Suddenly, the door swung open and Theodore was taken aback. Before him was a man towering at eight and half feet, a long, gangly beard running down his front, and a rather excited dog at his heel. "Ah right! You told me you were coming down today - and you've brought a friend I see!" The giant man turned towards Theodore with a friendly smile. "Rubeus Hagrid - I be the Groundskeeper. Ah! Don't want to keep you two out here in the cold - come, inside! Inside!"
He ushered the both of you into his hut, which was rather quaint. While Theo's eyes danced across the hut, you were already removing your coat and making yourself comfortable. His eyes fell upon a pine tree sitting in the corner, as well as a pile of boxes sitting next to it. He glanced back towards you and found you placing a kettle on the gas stove and setting out three teacups.
"I thought we'd start with one of my most favorite traditions - decorating the tree. Hagrid keeps a tree in his hut and he's asked me to help him decorate this year!"
"Them boxes over there are filled with ornaments!" Hagrid told them, gesturing to the boxes. Theodore noticed that the dog (Fang, he supposed it's name was) had approached you with a wagging tail and you had bent down to pepper kisses all over it's face. "I really appreciate youse two's help! Tha's why I made some of my famous rock cakes for ya to take back up wit' ya to the castle!"
"Thanks Hagrid, that's really nice of you!" Hagrid handed you a large, bulky package wrapped in a floral tablecloth. You placed it inside the bag you had brought with you. All the while Theodore watched as Hagrid slung some kind of bag around his shoulder and called Fang to join him by the door.
"O' course! Just remember to eat them while they're fresh!" He exclaimed with a chuckle. "Don' want 'em too hard. Ah, anyways, must get going. I've got to do my rounds about the grounds with Fang. You two young'uns have fun."
"Bye Hagrid!" You said as he closed the door behind him, offering a cheery wave. Once Hagrid left, you went back into the kitchen to remove the whistling kettle from the stove and pour the two of you some tea. "Here you go," you said slowly, more focused on not spilling the tea you were handing to Theo than what you were saying.
He took a sip of the tea, swallowed it, and then stared down at the yellowed water. You watched him in amusement, holding back your laughter. "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it."
He placed the cup back down on the table. "That is absolutely abominable," he told you with a sour look, pushing the cup towards you. You laughed, placing down your cup as well.
"It's not the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, but Hagrid found these incredibly rare plants in the forest with healing properties! So he's been using them for tea."
"How did you come about to be friends with the Groundskeeper, I wonder." Theodore pulled out one of the kitchen stools, rather large in comparison to himself. It wasn't easy to sit atop it, but in the end he triumphed over the chair.
You shrugged in response, taking another sip of your tea. "Well, Harry, Ron, and Hermione have known him for ages so they introduced me as well. People are kind of - I don't know - weird about him, but he's honestly lovely and gentle. He's not anything like he seems at first glance." Moving on from that topic, you clapped your hands together excitedly and ran over to the pile of ornament boxes. You separated and opened each and every box, displaying all the different ornaments. Theo approached, scrutinizing the glass balls with the tilt of his head.
"Some of these are . . . interesting, I must say." He grabbed an ornament of a brown bear and turned it around in his hand. You plucked the bear from his hand, placing it back in the box. In your other hand was a long string of tinsel.
"There are a few rules to decorating the tree," you started, walking backwards towards the mantle over the fireplace. You flipped on the radio, Celestina Warbeck's "Nothing Like a Holiday Spell," softly playing in the background. "First, you must listen to Christmas music. Second -" You held up the tinsel in your hand. "- you always do the lights and/or tinsel first. Okay? So, I'm going to need help wrapping this around the tree. I'll stand on one side and wrap it around my half, then I'll hand it to you so you can wrap around your half and you give it back to me, all right? Sound good?"
Theo nodded - this didn't seem too hard, nor unenjoyable. You didn't notice, too caught up in your jolly Christmas spirit to notice the way Nott was fondly watching you humming under your breath, tinsel trailing on the ground behind you as you stood on the opposite side of the tree. Standing on your tip-toes, you leaned up to wrap the tinsel around the top branch but struggled. When he noticed you were getting nothing out of your efforts, Theo walked behind you and grabbed the tinsel out of your hand. His chest was pressed against your back as he reached up with ease and wrapped the tinsel around the first branch.
You froze when he had come up behind you, a blush painting your cheeks. It wasn't your fault he had decided to come so close and that he was so damn attractive. You did your best to hide how flustered you suddenly felt, no matter how dimly veiled.
He didn't seem to notice, preoccupied with wrapping the tinsel around the top area of the tree that you were too short to reach. "Uh, thanks. Just, um, when you're wrapping the tinsel, make sure you don't wrap it too tight or too close to another row, okay?"
"I'll keep that in mind," he responded absent-mindedly, brows furrowed as he gave his task the upmost attention. He wanted to make the tree look perfect, just for you. He was trying to figure out how he should space the rows - as of now, are they too close together or too far apart? Maybe he should separate them a little.
"Don't think too much about it. It's not supposed to be perfect," you said, as though reading his thoughts. You grabbed the tinsel and began to wrap it around again. You handed it to Nott, who wrapped it around his side of the tree and handed it back to you. "It's supposed to look imperfect and wonky and unusual - that's what makes it your Christmas tree. Trying to make it look perfect takes all the fun out of it."
"So . . . the uniqueness is what makes it special?" he asked as he took the tinsel from you yet again. You were pretty special . . . unique. You stood out from your peers. Maybe that's why he was attracted to you - all his life, he was pushed for excellence. He was pushed to be perfect all the time and finding someone like you, so free-spirited and imperfect, well . . . he couldn't help but admire you.
"Yeah, exactly!" When you handed him the tinsel again, you said, "well, we're getting near the bottom. Just hand me the - yeah, the tinsel." You took the tinsel again and bent down as you wrapped it around the bottom of the tree. He followed you to the other side of the tree, preparing to finish the job once you passed the tinsel to him. "And I'll just finish this - oh!"
He hadn't realized you were planning on finishing the tinsel yourself and the two of you walked straight into each other. Your noses accidentally brushed together, your lips only centimeters away from his. You noticed an odd sort of glance in his eyes. It disappeared only a second later, but you were certain you saw it. A hunger, a longing. Like he wanted to kiss you.
"Sorry," he mumbled, not moving from where he was bending down.
"Yeah," you said breathlessly, quickly standing straight and clearing your throat. It must have been a flicker of light - there was no way the Theodore Nott liked someone like you. He was prim and proper, you were disorganized and eccentric. Not exactly a match made in heaven, especially in the eyes of his parents. "Sorry . . ."
-
You couldn't think clearly after that - all that was on your mind was a tall, quiet, brown-haired Slytherin boy who hated Christmas. But his especially those lips of his. Pink, full, just begging for a moment of your attention. Scenes in your mind played our what could have happened if either of you had made a move. Many ended with both of you in rather interesting positions.
Maybe it had just been you. Or maybe there was a spark there. You hoped, you dreamed, that he was feeling exactly how you were. You held onto this hope as you left your common room and rushed down the Grand Stairs to the Great Hall. You had another grand adventure in mind.
"What is on the roster for today?" Theodore had asked when you met him by the tall, oak doors of the Great Hall. The two of you set off towards the courtyard path.
"It's a suprise, silly!"
"Ah, suprises."
"What, you don't like suprises?"
"I didn't say that."
"How can you not like suprises?"
-
"If you don't mind me asking . . . why aren't you home for the holiday break?" Theodore asked as you slowly made your descent into Hogsmeade. He was kicking at the snow with his feet, secretly nervous. "You're not usually here."
"You've been stalking me, have you?" You replied with a wicked grin, remembering your first encounter. Theo flushed a bright red, his ears turning an especially poinsettia-like red. "I'm just joking." You sighed, your grin turning to a dismal frown. "Yeah, usually I'm at home for the holi's, but my parents are both away on buisness for work . . . so I had to stay here this year."
"You don't want to," he stated simply. You grimaced, shaking your head.
"Nope. I just want to sleep in my bed, my real bed, and wake up home on Christmas morning, surrounded by my family. But I'm stuck here." You sighed - talking about this didn't make you feel much better. You decided to brighten things up, sending a grin Theo's way. "At least I have you, Nott."
He stopped you. "Theo," he said, staring at you with those dark, alluring hazel eyes. "It's what all my friends call me," he added sheepishly.
The corners of your lips curled up, your heart fluttering like a fall leaf in the wind. "Theo," you repeated softly. "Well, Theo . . . perfect timing. We're here." You looked towards the shop on your right, the exterior wood painted a forest green with faded lettering. The window was frosted over, Hamilton depicting the festive scene inside. Warm fairy lights floated around the window, a variety of holiday-themed presents and objects on display not three inches from their eyes. "Holiday store. Perfect for getting gifts and getting in the holiday cheer."
"This was here all this time?" Theo asked.
You made a grand gesture towards the entire road you were standing upon. "I like to call this the Forgotten District. Great stores, but only the locals come here really. A fair few students know of it, but not many. Let's go inside."
You swung open the door, keeping it open with your foot as you entered so that Theo could enter right behind you. Though the ceilings were low and the room was so filled with whimsical trinkets and do-dads that it did feel a bit tight inside. "Hi Fred, how're you doing?"
"Good, good, and you?" Replied the man standing at the registers. He was a rosy-cheeked, middle-aged man with a round belly who looked rather friendly indeed. Almost like Saint Nicholas come to life.
"Great! This is my friend Theo! I'm introducing him to Christmas."
"Introducing him?" Fred responded in disbelief, looking towards Theo as though he were a puppy that had been ran over by a car. "My dear boy, you must have a look around. Take any one item you'd like with you, for free, I insist."
"Thank you, sir." As Theo gradually made his way into the shop, scrutinizing every little object, whether it was a spinning top or a rocking chair. You sent Fred a wide grin behind Theo's back, gesturing towards him with excitement. When Theo turned around, you stopped and quickly made your way to his side.
"Find anything eye-catching?" You asked, your exuberant mood quite obvious to all who could see you. You were grinning, watching Theo with that child-like wonder, standing on the balls of your feet while you took a good look at the place. You let out a gasp and grabbed a cute snowman mug. "Look at this! This is cute. You know, Mrs. Weasley would probably love this."
While you began to chatter on, grabbing various items and displaying them to him with starry-eyes, he couldn't help but watch with a sense of fondness. At some point, you realized he was staring at you oddly and paused. "What?" You asked with an awkward laugh, wiping your mouth with edge of your sleeve. "Is there something on my face?"
Unsure how to recover from having so blatantly worn his heart on his chest, looks away from you, his gaze void of any emotion now. "Nothing."
-
With each passing day, his fondness and adoration for you grew. You were so bright and exuberant, so careless in the way you bestowed that angelic smile of yours upon anyone. He felt honored, still, that he was a receptor of one.
You had begun to spend a lot of time together. Sneaking into the library and nabbing plenty of reading material, wandering about the castle and grounds, stealing food from the kitchens. However, whatever else you had planned to convince him that Christmas was indeed, gay with yuletide cheer, had not yet occurred.
You both were spread along couches by the fire in the Slytherin Common room, void of people except for the both of you. You laughed and talked until your lungs couldn't handle the action anymore - he was the first to fill the silence.
"My mother . . . she had loved Christmas," Theo said softly, his head still hanging off the couch. "As soon as November 1st came around, she would pull the decorations out of the cellar and start putting them up. Father insisted that she let the house elves do it, but she was firm in the belief that decorating was a holiday tradition that we should all celebrate together. It was her favorite time of year."
His tone sounded almost . . . sad. You pushed yourself onto your elbows and watched him. His eyes were just glazed over, water bubbling at the edges of his vision. "Your mother -"
"She's dead," he said in an empty tone of voice. Suddenly, as though realizing himself, he wiped his eyes and sat up. "Sorry, I don't really talk about that with anyone. I shouldn't have -"
"No, no, it's okay," you assured him with a kind smile. "I don't mind. Tell me more about your mom, she sounds really cool."
He hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers, before he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch. "One year when I was a young boy, she got me Fiabe italiane a cara di Italo Calvino for Christmas, or Italian Folklores by Italo Calvino. She would read it to me every night. After my mother . . . died, my father tried to erase everything that reminded him of her. Including that book."
"Oh no," you whispered, a hand hovering over your mouth.
He gave you a grimaced smile. "Yeah, but it's been so many years . . . I don't really care that much anymore, it's not a big deal."
To you, however, it seemed like a very big deal.
-
On Christmas morning, you woke up extra early and gathered your presents. You knew you looked ridiculous - hair frizzy and wild, still dressed in pajamas, presents flying in the air behind you. Finally, you entered the Slytherin common room and clambered up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, finding Theo's room.
Your pounding upon the door startled him awake and he practically ran to the door to yell at whoever decided to wake him at this ungodly hour. Instead, he found someone he didn't expect to be there at all - you.
"Merry Christmas Theo!" You shouted in excitement, throwing your arms around his neck. In your fervor, your focus was drawn away from the hovering presents and they soon clattered to the floor. He swung an arm around you, envolping himself in you, but you pulled away too soon to look back at your presents. "Oops."
"Merry Christmas," he responded, quite late due to the fact thatft he had just woken up. He opened the door wide so you could enter, and you sauntered inside with your presents hovering behind you once more. You say down on the floor, placing your presents gracefully down in front of you. He closed the door and turned to see you watching him expectantly.
He hadn't opened presents with anyone before, at least, not since his mother was alive. He had thought at first that he would be upset, you falling into his life and pushing him back into the world of Christmas . . . but he found that he actually enjoyed your company. More than he liked to admit. "Do you . . . want to open presents together?"
You flashed him a toothy grin. "Why else did you think I came over here, silly? Come on!" You patted the ground in front of you.
He shuffled over, gathering the small cluster of presents by his bed next to yours, and seating himself on the ground. "You go first."
"All right then." You grabbed an oddly-shaped parcel that looked like a lump of under-cooked bread. You unwrapped it with care, making sure not to tear the packaging. You pulled out a forest green sweater with the initial of your name and a container filled with mince pies. "It's from Mrs. Weasley! She knits sweaters every year for all her kids and their friends." You raised it to your nose with a content sigh. "Smells like her cooking too. All right, now you go on!"
Theod can't remember the last time he had recieved a homeade present, from someone so kind and motherly. He pulled a neatly-wrapped parcel towards him and unwrapped it, revealing a set of books he'd been wanting for a while. From Blaise. Don't go reading it all at once :)
"See? Opening presents can be fun!" The two of you continued to unwrap presents, chatting about what you had gotten. Finally, a wrapped present sat in front of you - both of you stared at it.
"You're not going to open it?" Theo asked. You shook your head with a knowing smile, pushing it towards him bashfully.
"Actually . . . it's for you," you said slowly with a nod of your head. Nervously, you glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He looked rather . . . confused.
"You didn't have to get me anything," he said, pulling the present into his lap. He stared down at it stubbornly, because he felt too guilty accepting a present from you.
"Oh go on, open it!" You encouraged, nudging him. He couldn't help but smile at your excitement, nothing the way you fidgeting in anticipation.
"All right, all right," he responded, raising his hands in mock defense. He untied the ribbon and gently unwrapped the present, making sure not to tear the paper. He froze once he saw what was sitting in his lap, staring up at him.
You watched him with trepidation. You didn't go to far, did you? You hoped that - well, you weren't sure what you hoped, but you wanted him to treasure the gift. You wanted him to say something, but didn't dare question him. You were afraid of his reaction.
"Fiabe italiane," he spoke softly, running his fingers along the spine of the book. It didn't have the weathered grooves his mother's copy had, but it felt like home. He turned towards you with an expression of disbelief. "How - you didn't have too -"
You offered a sheepsih shrug. "I wanted too. You sounded so . . . happy when you talked about your mother. But also sad, so I thought this might cheer you up. Brighten up Christmas a bit."
Theo kept staring at you with an odd expression - you weren't sure what to expect from him. You certainly didn't expect his lips to smash against yours, resting his hand on your thigh. The suddenness of the kiss left you in shock, unable to move. He took this as a sign that you were uncomfortable and unreceptive. But, as soon as he pulled away, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and tender. You couldn't help but smile as you pulled away and you noticed that his eyes had lost that melancholic darkness and was instead replaced with something much more merry.
"I think I'm starting to like Christmas."
You giggled, bringing a wide grin to his usually stoic face. "C'mere," you said, pulling him into a cuddle. "As long as I'm here, I will make sure that every Christmas you have is filled with love and comfort. All right?"
He glanced up from where you had buried his face in your shoulder. "You're amazing, you know that?" He asked, starry-eyed.
You offered a mock uncaring shrug. "I know." You were both silent before you burst out into laughter. "I'm not." As Theo started to protest, you interrupted him. "No really! I'm not, I'm just showing you what a caring relationship is like."
"I still think you're amazing." He paused. "I'm glad we ran into each other."
You glanced down at him and brushed the hair out his face, pecking him on the nose. "Me too."
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rinhaler · 6 months
Note
hii <3 more uncle nanami please? extra smutty hehe <33
still can't get over how much everyone likes uncle nanamin tbh agjdkshlgadsg, enjoy x
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, sex toys, squirting, age gap, manipulation, forced orgasm, ddlg esque.
words: 1.3k
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“What’s in the bag, uncle Nanamin?” you ask, blinking up at him so sweetly as he sits on the edge of your bed. He hands it to you, it’s a glittery pink gift page, and your eyes widen with excitement. “For me?” you ask, taking it from him.
“For you, sweetheart.” he nods, watching as you take a long, gift wrapped box out of the bag. You look at him for permission to open it, to which he nods, again. It’s wrapped so meticulously, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Your uncle is so precise about every little detail. So you try and offer the same in return. You don’t tear into the wrapping paper, you do all you can to open it with minimal ripping. He sees how your eyes widen with fear when the object comes into view, and he strokes his thumb over your thigh. “Don’t be scared.” he tells you.
“I-It’s big…” you tell him, looking at the size of the box and the white Hitachi wand printed on the front. “Is this… a sex toy?” you ask him, innocently. He smiles at that, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your forehead.
He nods, again.
You open the box to reveal the toy, and it’s bigger than you could have imagined. You pull out the wire and plug it into the extension plug down the side of your bed. He watches you, like you’re a child opening gifts on Christmas day. And he chuckles when you turn on the wand and feel how powerful the vibrations are.
You meet his stare again, gulping heartily when you feel out of your depth.
“I— uncle Nanamin…” you pout.
“Awe, you don’t get it?” he asks, and you shake your head. He stands up and locks your bedroom door. He knows you’re home alone but he isn’t willing to take the risk. He’s thankful for his upstanding gentleman exterior, and he’s even more thankful that the rest of the family seems to fall for it. Even you, to an extent. It’s the perfect cover for him to spend this time alone with you. Corrupting you with each visit and moulding you into his perfect little girl.
“Do I use it on my… my…” you feel your skin sear with warmth as you flush with embarrassment, unable to bring yourself to complete your sentence.
“Your little pussy? Yes, sweetheart.” he finishes it for you. His fingers hook under your t-shirt, pulling it over your body to reveal a pretty, blue push up bra beneath. He reaches around behind you and unhooks it, your breasts spilling free as they’re bared to him. He hisses, quietly, enamoured by the sight.
“It’s scary…” you tell him.”
“No, no it’s not scary,” he continues. He pulls you further down the bed until you’re flat on your back. He pulls at your shorts and commands you to lift your ass so he can remove them fully. You’d decided to forgo any panties. You know they don’t stay on your body for long when your uncle is in town. “Gonna make you feel nice… I’ll show you.”
He takes the wand from your hand and puts it down for a moment. You’re already dripping wet for him, he supposes it’s some sort of pavlovian response to his voice at this point. He never fails to find you dripping whenever he sneaks into your room.
Your thighs are pushed into your chest until your knees are by your ears. He traces a finger from your slick clit down to your clenching little hole, his fingers ghosting the entrance until he pulls away completely.
He smirks when you jolt at the sound of the toy coming to life. Your whole body shakes as he teases your inner thighs with it.
“Remember I told you I want to see you make a mess for me one day? This will help.” he reminds you.
“Will it hurt, uncle Nanamin?” you ask him, your body trembles as the vibrations surge through you.
“No, it’ll feel nice. Really nice. It’s just tickling you now, right?” he asks, and you nod, agreeing. “Well. How about now…” he questions, lowering the large vibrating head to your cunt. And the moan you let out is raucous when he finds the perfect angle on your clit.
He covers your mouth, demanding that you be quiet. You’re home alone, yes, but that isn’t to say your family won’t come home sooner rather than later. His eyes are strict, but compassionate all at once. You’re humming, loudly, and dampening his palm as you try to wriggle away from the toy.
“Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me.” he tells you, moving his hand slightly to give you the chance to respond. “It’s good. Isn’t it?”
“Too much!” you yell, “too much f’me!” you cry you, earning his palm sealing your lips again.
“Be quiet.” he warns you, strictly again. “You don’t want to get in trouble, do you? You’ll like it when you cum, so be a good girl and take it.” he commands, turning the vibration setting up a notch.
Your eyes fill with tears and your body convulses wildly. This is nothing, he thinks. And yet, you’re flailing around like this? Your screams are muffled by his large hand, but he longs to drink up every decibel of their true volume. His pants begin to tent and strain and he relishes in the sight of the cutest forbidden fruit he’s ever head the pleasure of handling.
He turns the notch up, one last time.
Your eyes cross and you swear your heart stops beating. You’re cursing, though he’ll never know, as he presses the wand hard onto your firm clit.
“That’s it, good girl, cum for me.” he encourages you, adding the slightest pressure yet again to your trembling clit. “Make a mess of the toy. Make a mess of me. Wanna see, so show me, princess.”
And you can’t resist a direct order from your favourite uncle. You begin spasming, your cunt twitching as you cum. And it’s the hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. And you feel happy, you think, when you realise how elated your uncle is upon seeing your pussy gush out a fountain of liquid for him.
Your sheets are ruined, completely soaked and you can’t think of anything worse than doing laundry after how spent your little cunt is. But he’ll do the laundry. He’d never expect you to do something so menial because of his demands.
He’s thrilled to see you’re capable of such a feat. His trousers are equally as ruined as the sheets below and he hopes he’ll have time to change before the family returns from their shopping trip.
“Good girl, pretty fucking pussy…” he speaks, though you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or directly to your cunt. He pulls upward on your skin until the hood of your clit raises, putting more pressure on your overworked pearl. You yelp, helplessly, trying again to escape the feeling. “Sorry, princess, got carried away.” he switches off the toy.
He holds you in his arms for what feels like a lifetime as you try and process what just happened. You’re so wet. And you feel cold. But the warmth of his body caressing yours is enough to feel better.
“D-Do I… can I keep it?” you wonder.
“Yes.” he nods, “If you liked it, it’s yours.”
“Will you use it again? I-It was nice… so nice…”
“Of course.” he smiles, kissing the crown of your head. “And while I’m gone you can use it on yourself. You can make yourself cum whenever you like when I’m not here.”
What you like about your uncle Nanami is how considerate he is when it comes to you. But what he likes most about you is how easy to manipulate you are. You’ll become addicted to that wand and associate it with him. He’s never been worried about you straying and wanting to fuck other guys when he isn’t around. But he wants to be careful. He wants to make sure you remember who you belong to. You need to remember the only man who should make you cum like that.
What’s wrong with a man giving a gift to his favourite niece, anyway?
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© 2023 rinhaler
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suguru-getos · 8 days
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"Please- please-" you raggedly breathe, knees scraping against the hard floor as Satoru dragged you by your wrist, a soft whimper escaping your lips. You had no idea why he had gotten so angry. You have been nothing but good. You're forced to stand up next, hard grip on your hair sure to give you migraines. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I don't understand-"
This is the first time Satoru has been so silent, it terrifies you, the very marrow of your bones. He is big, tall, looming and so unwavering when he wants to be. Your hurt and panic breaks into a sniffle, lips parted to utter what he'd call a pathetic excuse of an apology. "What did I say, when I said I would be okay with you going out?" He raised a brow, and your pupils wavered in the bone-chilling coldness of his tone. Harsh blue eyes and pursed lips ready to attack his little prey. "Yo- You- you-" Fuck, you're stuttering. Just like you always do when you're scared and panicked. "Yo- You- you-… what. Did. I. Say?" Satoru hums, after mocking your tone.
You sniffled, "s-said to me to not go out apart from the estate premises."
"Do I need to make sure you listen to me in a different way?" For Satoru, it's simple. You have tried to run so many times that his patience has worn out, the constant fear of you going away is making him the monster he is now. The outside world is filled with curses, and bad things. You, are a non-sorcerer and you should know better. Besides, after today's incident. He is ready to do anything.
"Why the hell were you outside then?" He yelled, Satoru… doesn't really yell. The problem is, a special grade spirit was sighted near the store you decided to go see for yourself. While that's something rare, it's increasing his anxiousness a tenfold. What if you had been there, you had been a bag of fucking bones! "I just- wan' wan' wan'ed you know- I just-"
"Speak to me properly or I will break you in ways you can't take. Wouldn't let you walk for days." That causes you to cry out, why is he overreacting so much! Christ! He already has you here, rotting, against your will. You sobbed, heart racing and breaths shallowing.
Satoru was… tolerable… you wouldn't call yourself the unluckiest person in the world until today. He had abducted you, but he was never… this.
"Can’t talk to her or she will have a FUCKING panic attack." His jaw grits, holding you by the neck and pinning you against the wall. Your hands instinctively hold his wrist, but they're meek, sweaty with fear, and powerless. "If I see you step out again, I will kill everyone you hold near since you love watching me helplessly try to make you compliant, without hurting you, no?" Without hurting you… yeah right.
You nodded, "W- Won't step out." It's getting harder for you to speak with every second, eyes losing focus and fight or flight kicking in. Satoru's harsh expressions are blurring out, you were passing out.
And you do, fall limp against him. His feet impatiently tapping the floor once he sees you collapse. Another reminder of how you could die in an instant and leave him like Suguru did. A soft sigh escapes him once the throbbing headache kicks in. The high adrenaline calming down and kicking in with brutal headache. He lets you fall on the floor, ignoring the slight bruise in your head at the impact. You should know better. At least this is keeping you from not fucking dying.
He walks away to get the medication for his head, looking at himself in the mirror. He doesn't… look like himself. He leans in, watching the colour of his eyes greying. Something's wrong. That's when it kicks in.
Yandere Satoru was influenced by the same special grade curse he had killed. Why else were his thoughts so messy? You had escaped so many times but he always thought you'd just… understand one day.
A cold blood rushes through his spine once his cloudy thoughts clear up, and the idea of you passed out on the cold flooring floods him. Satoru has never been more quick to pick you up, cradling you close. Some part of him is happy, you wouldn't run away anymore. Another part of him is unsure if it's him truly thinking it, or if it's the curse's energy tampering with his own. A small part of him wants to die for putting you through this. Satoru Gojo needed to figure this out.
And then… he needed to build his relationship with you from scratch once he finds out what you did go out to buy. There were ingredients of his favourite Kikufuku. You were trying to make him… Kikufuku.
The small part of him that wanted to die isn't so small anymore. Months, if not weeks, it will take months to get you to love him like this again…
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Dating Aventurine hc's
At first he hates the realization he's actually falling for someone
It eats away at him every second, this reminder that he's not, and likely never will be, in a great position to just have a normal life...
He's a pawn, always has been, so why would he put someone else through that?
Especially you...
But God if it isn't impossible not to love, to keep his fluttering heart from hoping, yearning for just your warm touch
Just the sight of you is enough, he decides to himself, as if that makes any difference in the end
It's obvious he dotes on you, his teasing remarks and genuine smiles are impossible to miss...
He follows you around in his free time, happily inserting him with a smug little grin, as if it's completely normal to have a IPC executive tailing you constantly
You're entertaining, or that's his excuse
He has to keep you safe, it's not like he trusts any of these other idiots to do it, and getting to watch you huff at him paying for everything is only a bonus
In that stage he enjoys being subtly possessive
You're not his, sure, but seeing you in his hat and sunglasses, or maybe with one of his cute little calling card chips fastened into a necklace, constantly on you...
His arm around your shoulder is enough to denture most people immediately, definitely not looking to get into a scuff with the "loose cannon of a gambler" he's generally seen as
When you're finally together he's not keen on taking his hands off you
Whether it's a light arms around your waist, just securing his spot by your side with an occasional squeeze, or his hand grabbing desperately at your hair as he focuses on pressing a kiss to every inch of your face with steadfast resolve
His favorite thing is just resting his chin on your shoulder, his pretty eyes staring up at yours endlessly
It's the perfect position, of course, arms around you with easy access to your neck, and it usually ends with your face hot to the touch by his intimate little kisses pressed so lovingly to your skin
He does have an appearance to maintain, so self care days where he paints your nails, washes your hair in a joint shower or bath, and drags you out to buy expensive clothes are must
Money is meant to be gambled or spent, it's not for hoarding, and that's abundant obvious by how he throws it around
It's another form of possession, really, seeing you decked out in what he's bought you, it gives him a sense of pride
It's hard for him not to project his childhood fears onto you, too
Like if he notices you're not eating, not drinking enough, brushing off a small injuries
He's seen plenty of people die to all those, and fighting down those blaring alarm bells can be difficult at the best of times
You'll often find a glass of water and small snack with a cute little note when you wake up, if he can't be there himself to make sure your needs are met, and he's expecting a text as soon as you're up to confirm you're fine
Anytime without contact for too long will consume him, gnawing at his insides, eating him slowly until he sees you again
He hates it, it's such a painful disadvantage in his line of work, but god if he can't help it...
He's very quick to scoop you up and pepper kisses to your pulse points immediately after, nuzzling against the physical feeling of your heartbeat and your warmth
He also can't help shaking off the mindset that he's merely a chip, to be used when  useful and discarded after
He knows that's not the case with you, knows it... But it's impossible to not feel a bolt of pure fear when you're unhappy with him, as if his worth is tied to his ability to be perfect for you
Pet names are obviously a must, and you might start to joke he doesn't actually know your real name with how rarely he uses it
You're his "darling love", his "perfect match", and, of course, his "adorable sweetheart"
He'll pout a bit if you don't reciprocate the absurd level of endearments on your end too
He probably won't even respond to "Aventurine" after a while, pretending not to hear you with an unmistakable smile, until you properly address him
He's left wondering how he's ever lived without you, and if he ever could again
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