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#she is a whole child!! you are a grown man!!
plantboiart · 12 hours
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I was going to make a post about which greek heroes the jrwi pcs are but i came up with a better idea. Which greek myths/stories the jrwi pcs are, mostly just based on themes and vibes and stuff. Also some of these will be combinations of two or more characters when that’s required to make things fit
Riptide
Jay: starting off with what i think is the easiest one. The myth of Icarus, but more specifically: she’s Daedalus. Crafting wings for herself to escape the prison she has been locked in, reaching freedom but losing her family in the process. It just fits very well. (Was this entire post inspired by @enby-ralsei’s fic gifted wax wings? Maybe)
Gillion: had kind of a hard time choosing between the Illiad and the twelve labors of Heracles, but landed on the Illiad. It fits him as a story of war, of wrath and prophecies and higher powers playing with the lives of mortals. Achilles, the child of a goddess, an extremely capable warrior able to level entire armies by himself, but still human, still fully aware that he will die for the war he is fighting in. Helen, an innocent bystander by all logical means, the child of a god, or a goddess, or mere mortals depending on who you ask, ripped from her home and thrust into a battle she never asked for a part in. It just… well. It fits pretty well, I think.
Chip: The Odyssey, specifically from Telemachus’ pov (huh both jay and chip got a myth but from a different pov than the title character). Just a now grown up son trying to find his father who he lost years ago, even when all likelyhood points towards him being long gone. …lets hope chip and arlin can also get a happy ending reunion? Maybe?? Please???
Prime defenders
Dakota: the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa. Perseus is like… the ideal greek hero even by modern standards. Which, you know, Dakota obviously isn’t flawless, but he is very much the ideal of heroism. Kind, willing to learn from his mistakes, forgiving, capable, strong in multiple ways, he inspires people (Mark, William, fucking the whole of WATCH) to be better. Perseus really just fits him with like how ideal his story is at least in its older forms (obviously gets very different vibes if we go with the later interpretation of medusa being a victim but the older versions fit dakota better so thats what im focusing on)
William: Hades and Persephone! Extremely complex and complicated, somehow simultaneously one of the healthier love stories in greek mythology and also the story of Hades kidnapping his wife.. yeah its complicated. Just like Will! Also you know themes of the underworld and death and rebirth :)
Vyncent: the twelve labors of heracles, it doesn’t really fit as well as some others do but i barely have any fitting ones left (not writing these in order) and at this point like 90% of the myths i have left are just men being the worst. So vyncent gets a myth thats NOT a man being the worst! A very strong and capable fighter, sometimes easily overtaken by his own anger, in desperate need to prove himself and make up for his past mistakes
Blood in the bayou
Rolan: King Oedipus… uh ignoring the incest. Focusing on the themes of discovering your true identity and being so horrified and disgusted by the truth that you can’t live with it, that you’re the monster you’ve been seeking this whole time. Being unable to ever go back to the way things used to be no matter how much you wish you could do so
Kian and Rand: Orpheus and Eurydice. Not in the sense of “this character is this one” but the different themes just fit them both so well. Kian is music, is love, is hope and failure and loss and /love/. Kian is Orpheus risking everything for those he loves. Kian is Eurydice dying again because that very love was always going to be her downfall. Kian is a tragedy, and we all know how it will end. Meanwhile Rand is grief, is loss, is refusing to move on and let go of those you love. Of looking back even when you know it will only hurt you more. Rand is Orpheus, forever stuck in mourning those he’s lost. Rand is Eurydice, never able to come back from where she has gone. Rand is a tragedy, and we all wish we didn’t know how it will end.
Apotheosis
Rumi and Peter: already talked about this in my which greek gods they are post but!! The myth of Eros and Psyche. A god and a mortal that fell for each other, pulled apart by their circumstances. The mortal dying, only to be brought back by their godly lover and raised to godhood themself. A happy and loving marriage with their (lizard) children. It just fits so well
Thanatos: always feels ironic to pick a myth that doesnt involve Thanatos himself but. I think Thanny fits the story of Prometheus pretty good. Defying the gods by stealing fire for humanity and succeeding in that goal but then getting trapped forever because of that. I mean Thanatos you know stayed trapped willingly but still (also theres a real lack of greek myths where someone defies the gods and doesnt end up suffering like. A lot. Prometheus honestly got off somewhat easily compared to some others)
Not including the suckening since i still haven’t finished it :/ ill add my thoughts on the characters once ive done so
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nikialexx · 1 year
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very very tired of trying to engage with TLOU fandom only to encounter more Hot Takes about how certain episodes (and we all know which episodes) are 'boring' or 'unnecessary' or, perhaps most frustrating all, 'woke propaganda' so here is my take on it all.
first off, i really do think that all of these people need to take a crash course in the difference between a piece of media being 'woke' and something which simply showcases the existence of people who are not white, male, and/or straight.
but with specific reference to TLOU i think it's particularly exhausting because all of the criticism I've seen of episode 3 and episode 7 are that it doesn't advance the plot which- fair point, it doesn't, but this completely ignores the fact that storytelling is not solely devised from good plot execution and that it also heavily relies on things such as theme, characterization (this includes backstory), allegory, symbolism- all of which are pivotal aspects of these episodes.
and i think that if you lack the intellectual capacity and the media literacy to recognize these things and understand their importance- well first of all you shouldn't be watching the show at all, because it clearly wasn't made for you. but you especially shouldn't be criticizing it.
ep.3 for example, seems to me that is serves the same functional purpose as the direction that the game took Bill's storyline. Bill in the game was a cautionary tale, and in the show he was an aspirational one. But the impact he had on Joel was the exact same: he served as a reminder of the difference between surviving and living, a reminder that the most important thing you can do is to keep your loved ones close, a reminder that the world isn't all bad, even if it seems like it is, and that shutting yourself off from it in an attempt to avoid pain will only prevent you from embracing the good things. Bill's relationship to Frank is, functionally, the same as Joel's relationship to Tess and Ellie. Joel shut himself off from Tess and in the process likely missed out on what could have been a very good thing, and Bill and Frank and the example that they set is what gave Joel the push he needed not to make that same mistake with Ellie.
The changes that the show made to Bill's storyline is exactly what a good adaptation should do.
which brings me to my second issue with all the criticism: it also ignores the fact that this is not the video game, it as an adaptation. the purpose of an adaptation is to explore aspects of the story (note that this is not the same thing as plot!!) that the original source couldn't/didn't. It is meant to delve deeper into the story (note!! that this is not!! the same thing as plot!!) than the original source did. it's meant to be an alternative, updated take. it isn't meant to a shot-for-shot reenactment. if you want the exact same story that the game gave you with nothing added in and nothing taken out- that's great! good for you! go play the game and leave the rest of us alone. because why are you really here if you can't understand that film is a different media format entirely and that yes, it should play to its specific strengths.
furthermore:
ep.7 was not a 'filler' episode. It was an episode that explored Ellie's backstory (a particularly important backstory btw, given Joel's remarks in ep.6 that Ellie doesn't know what loss is. this episode showed us that yes, she very much does). And by doing that, it cemented her reasons for being so determined to find the fireflies and let herself be experimented on in hope of getting a cure (this, children, is what we refer to as a character motivation. It's a pretty important thing). It gave us insight into what Ellie's life was like before Joel- because, you know, she is her own goddamm character that can and should be able to exist without him.
and it's particular insidious to me that so many people are blacklisting this episode because 'it sidelined Joel' when, and I cannot stress this enough, Ellie is also a main character. She is arguably the main character. This isn't The Joel Show. If you can't stand to watch a 50 minute episode that focuses on Ellie, then why are you even here? Ellie's story is important to her, her loss of Riley is important to her, just as Joel's loss of Sarah is important to him, and both of those things deserved the screentime that they got. Ellie is not 'filler', you misogynistic dumbasses.
And from what I've seen, one of the most notable aspect of TLOU game has always been its focus on story (do I need to say it again? yes i do. this is NOT the same thing as plot), characterization, and the intimate relationships between the characters. So why did anyone start watching the show if all they wanted to see were guns and zombies. Go somewhere else. This clearly isn't for you.
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winepresswrath · 3 months
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sudden yearning for time travelling teen jiang fengmian lands at lotus pier fic that winds up being about a perfectly nice kid having a varying series of "oh no. i don't like that. that's a lot" reactions.
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8rujaa · 1 month
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my therapist really saved me….
#tw abuse // tw sa#i can’t sleep bc i keep thinking about this.#like i probably would’ve not been here if it weren’t for her#i started seeing her january of 2023… my life has changed entirely since then and she was definitely the one who got the ball rolling#literally so much has changed since then and it’s all because of her#i was so dissociated during our first few sessions#thanks to her i was able to get diagnosed and medicated for adhd. i was able to realize i was in an abusive situation and plan a way out#i was able to focus on myself and my healing and she’s helped me reframe so much of my negative thinking#i was able to process a lot of emotions and become a better version of myself with each session#she’s truly incredible.#i remember the first comment she made about the relationship had been ‘’so it’s like there’s an imbalance of control in the relationship’’#i had put my partners on such a high pedestal that i had no idea they could be doing anything wrong#and i asked her what she meant and she said ‘from what you’ve been describing it’s sounds like a strict parents and child type of dynamic’#she told me they didn’t need to understand why i wanted to leave and they didn’t need to make that decision. if that’s what was going to be#best for me the only thing i could do is let them know my reasoning and simply leave. i didn’t need their permission.’’#i remember being so confused at that realization bc like… i had been putting their emotions over mine the whole time i had forgotten simply#doing what’s best for me was an option… l#ever since then i’ve been putting myself first and it’s been a steady uphill from rock bottom… i’ve made an incredible amount of progress#when i first started with her getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen was incredibly difficult and took all my strength.#yesterday i conquered a mountain!!!!!!! i hiked all the way to the top!!!!! :D#me a year ago thought it was going to take me years and years to recover. as soon as i left i made leaps of progress#im incredibly proud of myself and grateful for her. and my reiki lady she’s also been a great great help.#the silver lining is i realized who really matters. and the relationships i cared about deepened.#my sweet virgo friend was the one who was always like ‘THATS A GROWN ASS MAN WHO CANT UNDERSTAND BASIC CONSENT???’#LMFAO i would be like ‘but he has trauma and bla bla bla’ she looked me dead in the eyes and said#’jess you said with your last boyfriend that you would never make excuses for a man who was hurting you again. stop defending him.’#she’s really a gem and i treasure her with my life. i hope she knows i love her. she’s family at this point#she’s also literally saved my life before (like deadass called 911 for help)#im glad i had the support system i had. that was a rough situation with so many layers and im glad i got through it#my 22nd year of life was by far the worst of my life and i don’t ever want to put myself in that situation again. im glad i learned.
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danzainosolitude · 7 months
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Why did they never elaborate on the fact that there are *presumably* human versions of all the characters in Japan
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inkskinned · 4 months
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she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.
in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.
it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.
i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.
sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.
and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.
once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?
i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.
my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."
the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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— THUNDERSTRUCK!
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pairings: luke castellan x daughterofzeus!reader, percy jackson x fem!reader (platonic & half-siblings)
summary: the one where percy’s babysitter ends up at camp with him, and may or may not be the child of a certain stormy man as well as falling in love with a thief (of her heart & other things).
warnings: fluff, percy takes on the brotherly role, protective perce, flirting, violence, protective reader over percy, possessive luke thoughts, kisses, makeoutish, timegap
wordcount: 4.2k (i went crazy)
a/n: i think i’ve seen this film before— (thalia wya) since a lot of people love protective percy/persassy! hope you like it!! i listened to it whilst making it sooooo i recommend!
taglist: @apollos-calliope @purplerose291 @loveyava @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty @iluvthemoonandthestars @chr1sgirl4life @liv1104 @fairycheol @coryoskywalker@perseus-jackass @hottiewifeyyyy @lizheartsyou @repostingmyfavs @lovelyforesst
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you and percy had experienced so much in the last days, now at a random camp, that had been scarcely explained to you by sally and grover as the four of you made your way to camp.
beforehand, you’d been finishing up on your last school assignment when a knock on your door drew you from your laptop, then percy barged his way into your apartment soaking wet. “oh! okay what the hell? percy aren’t you freezing? what’re you doing here?” you’d since placed your laptop on the coffee table, jogging over to the door as percy smiled up at you, “montauk baby!”
you laughed, “montauk?” he nodded as you grinned, “i’ll be down in five, you are so lucky my flatmates aren’t here they’d make you scrub the wet floors.” once you were out of view, percy made it a point to shake his body and hair, droplets of water dispersing around the apartment. he hated your flatmates, two annoying boys who loved to stare at you. luckily you were too busy hauling ass with your backpack and gym bag, stuffed full of clothes and snacks.
sally greeted you with a smile, a hug and a kiss on the forehead, “how are you sweetheart?” your smile was practically blinding, “very excited, let’s hit the road!”
you’d already begun to tune out whilst sally explained, godly parentage and all. but not out of spite or confusion, only sadness. one of your parents weren’t actually your parent. whilst it seemed that your father was the obvious candidate, goddesses did exist as well. percy had never really been with his father let alone grown up with him for 18 years, so it was different for him than it was for you.
as if that wasn’t enough, grover being split in half as a goat had you rubbing your eyes, hoping for a different outcome when you opened them again, sorely disappointed when greeted with hooves and fur.
but nothing could have prepared you for watching sally’s demise. having had a hand in raising you, loving and shaping you into the amazing woman you were now, and now she was dust. snapping back into the moment a tad late, the sight of percy fighting the beast caused your heart to beat a thousand miles quicker.
“perce!” you’d tried to aid him, pulled back by grover, whom you’d recently learned was actually 24. in another, less serious moment, maybe you would’ve listened to your elder and his pleas for you not to interfere. your feet carried you to percy and the minotaur, grabbing a nearby rock you threw it as a distraction, momentarily drawing its attention. percy then stabbed it with its own horn, reducing it to dust as he fell down and you held him.
“please, please stay awake. stay with me perce.” you clutched onto him, but your pleas went unheard as grover’s did with you. his eyes fluttered to a close, but not before you heard him whisper, “mom?” your heart clenched at the misunderstanding.
you stuck by him the whole time, when chiron and the others found you, whilst he was in the infirmary, you stayed by his side. when grover promised you that he’d be there for percy, and urged you to eat and take a walk, you relented.
the dark haired boy had his head down whilst walking, in his head he’d been contemplating whether or not he wanted to visit the newcomers. which he did either way. he ran right into you, as you met the ground and he profusely apologised, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t watching where i was— going.” it was rare for luke castellan to be at a loss for words, but as he met your eye he didn’t care. you were undeniably gorgeous, messy y/h/c hair, sweet yet drained eyes, and a small smile drawn on your lips.
“you’re… so fine. like, as in— you’re okay. it’s okay, we both didn’t watch ourselves. not that i’m blaming you! just—,” you breathed out as he grinned, “i’m luke… castellan, head counsellor of hermes cabin.” you giggled as he scratched the back of his head, “i could’ve left off the last part huh?” he didn’t want to come off as bragging, but it did seem like he was. you scrunched your nose and eyes, “yeah, probably.”
he lent his arm to you, hauling you up. “i know my name, you know my name, you know your name. seems like i’m the odd one out.” luke grinned as you laughed, the two of you found it easy to talk to one another, “i’ll tell you, when you’ve earned it.” shrugging your shoulders, you turned on your heel heading for the infirmary.
luke stood behind and watched, his voice was distant but still loud enough for you, “what do i have to do to earn it?” you shook your head, quickly turning back to him to shout out, “if i tell you, then you won’t chase after me will you?” your smile was imprinted in luke’s head, he only wanted to see it more often, you more often. and he sure as hell wasn’t above a chase.
the rest of the day was spent settling you and percy in. once he’d awoken, he immediately asked after his mother, but of course that wasn’t possible.
your presence was the only thing that percy knew, helping him calm down. the two of you were completely new in a place where the people around you seemed to have been at forever. and whilst you’d barely talked the people around you, they all spoke about the pair of you.
your journey had seemed to reach the ears of all the campers, including a certain ares girl.
clarisse whole heartedly believed percy to have lied about his encounter with the minotaur, for whatever reason. you’d found that out when luke was taking percy on a tour, whilst you’d been talking to chiron about settling percy in.
on your way back you’d noticed her talking to him.
“you want attention around here dummy? better be ready for it when it comes.” she snickered as percy stumbled backwards, but not before you steadied him from behind. “you okay perce?” he nodded whilst you surveyed him for any injuries, once you’d deemed him to be okay, you pushed him behind you.
percy’s troubled past was not foreign to you, teasing and bullies and expulsions galore. you’d never held it against him, percy was your brother, and you knew who he was. he was kind, and funny, a joke up his sleeve at all times, wide eyed and curious of his surroundings, fiercely loyal and friendly to those he loved. at times his mouth got him in trouble, but at the end of the day, he was always your perce. the one who’d always ditch school to take care of you when you were sick, the one who glared and protected you against your roommates, the same perce who puked for hours when sally and you had indulged him in blue foods for his birthday. he was your brother, you couldn’t protect him at times, but you’d be damned if you let it happen right infront of you.
“he’s twelve, twelve years old. how old are you? you might think it’s hilarious to bully new kids around, but i sure as hell don’t. stay away from him.” clarisse scoffed, crossing her arms, “i don’t like liars, he is a liar. and so are you. admit you faked the minotaur killing.” it was your turn to scoff, “it happened, why the hell would we lie about it? get over yourself honestly, are we continuing the tour or what?” luke clicked his tongue, “see you around clarisse.”
he could tell you weren’t in the best mood so he took it upon himself to make you smile, “how much do you want to bet he ends up poking someone’s eye out?” you and luke stood side by side as percy adjusted his protective glasses, attempting to weld. “how much do you want to bet he starts a fire?”
as the three of you ran out your laughs mixed in with luke, “pay up!” percy scrunched his eyebrows, “you bet on me? that’s rude.” you ruffled his hair as he swatted your hand away, “as if you could do any better Y/N.” luke smiled at the slip of your name whilst you groaned, “guess i didn’t have to earn it.” luke whispered into your ear. percy didnt like the close proximity, so he injected himself in between you two.
the rest of the day was spent trying to find what percy was good at, and then laughing at his failed attempts. then percy being annoyed at you and luke.
you’d stuck by percy’s side the whole day to which he protested, “i can be alone for a minute yknow?” the two of you were currently walking back from dinner, “okay, one, two—,” he threw his head back and groaned, “you know what i mean.” your hand rested on percy’s shoulder, “i’ll give you some time okay? just make sure you get back to the cabin before curfew, i think it’s going to rain.” percy nodded, walking off to wherever.
but you weren’t alone for long.
“so, how’d i do?” luke took up the space percy had occupied moments ago, “what do you mean?” he walked infront of you before turning around, “did i earn it? your name?” the smile on your face was hard to fight as you averted your gaze to ground, face beginning to heat up at his smile, “i’d say yes, but percy told you my name anyways. but you did also earn something else.”
“and what’s that?”
“my company.”
luke liked the idea of that, “well then, i’ll do my best to deserve it. do you want to take a walk with me?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “isn’t curfew soon?” his hand was outstretched towards you, reminiscent of your first meeting, “lucky for you, i’m somewhat above the average camper.”
and so you took his hand, time and along the way his breath. just looking at you was enough to make him happy, the bitterness buried deep as he listened in for your laugh. admiring you in the moonlight, committing your face to memory.
your stomach hurt, bad.
the only times you laughed this hard were with percy. “there’s no way! you caught them trying to make out, twice?” luke nodded, “in the same night, basically infront of everyone. they’re both only eleven, so i’m guessing their understanding of relationships and privacy doesn’t span far.” you buried your face in your hands as luke shook his head, “uh-uh, if i’m talking to you, i need to see all of you.” you both sat at the dining pavilion, facing each other.
it only made you resort to hiding in between your knees next, “i can’t! i look crazy.” luke’s hands came to your wrists in an attempt to pry them away, which was successful, but then you hid by your knees. he did think about prying theme apart, but then blood shot to his face when he realised how sexual it was. so he rested his hands on your knees, which made you peek up at him. his eyes bore into yours, unrelenting and unashamed.
“you look gorgeous, all the time. and i seriously can’t hold a conversation with you if i can’t see your pretty face.” his words caused you to rise, legs coming down to rest on either side of the bench, “pretty huh? and what do you know about pretty girls?” luke crossed his arms as he smirked, “not much, just that i’m looking at the best one.” you smacked his chest, “god you’re such a flirt.” the two of you rose up from the table as luke smiled, “how can i not when you’re right here?”
you took in a deep breath, not expecting it to trap itself in your throat. you were alone, for once. you were alone. with an exceptionally strong, sweet, lovely guy, who seemed to have an affinity for you.
luke was revelling in your shyness, the more he got to know you the more he wanted to be with you. not only were you kind, but you stood your ground. even with clarisse, the second she targeted percy you stood in between the two. it was one of the many things he liked about you. he also liked the idea of stepping a little closer, maybe touching your face, kissing you?
as much as you wanted to get closer to him, you weren’t sure of yourself. and if it was past curfew then you couldn’t help but wonder if percy was safe and sound. “we should head back!” you spun around and began walking whilst luke sighed, “yeah, we should.”
you expected for him to either;
a) not be there
b) be asleep
c) be making his way back
not for him to be in the bathroom, held by clarisse and her friends shouting for you, “y/n!”
“let him go! now!” you screamed as you ran towards him, but clarisse held onto your arm, “he needs to learn his lesson.” you laughed, this girl and her stubbornness needed to be studied, “what the hell is wrong with you? my god he didn’t fake anything! he’s a poor kid who saw his own mother disappear infront of him! he’s terrified!” clarisse was strong, you’d give her a point for that.
but she ignited an ungodly amount of anger in your body. you pulled against her to get to percy as the storm outside made its presence known as you screamed, “let go!” thunder rattled through the air, striking outside the door, as clarisse and the girls were hurtled back by water. you immediately ran to percy, “are you okay? did they hurt you? i swear i’m going to—,” percy cut your rambling off with a tight hug, “you came.” the tears in your eyes fell free as you held onto him, “you called.”
annabeth stood at the door with luke whilst percy interrogated her, “are you stalking me annabeth?” their conversation was drowned out as luke made his way over to you, “are you okay?” he surveyed you for any outstanding differences, a cut or two. “i’m okay, i’m fine. thank you luke, i just need to get percy in bed. i’ve had enough of this camp for a day.”
you were on auto drive, the only thing on your mind was getting percy to your cabin, the ghost of a kiss you’d left on luke’s lips as you hurried out of the place didn’t register until you were in bed. luke seemed to enter years later, quiet steps to his bed alerting you. “luke?” your voice was hushed whilst calling out for him, aware of the other campers, “y/n?” he was in bed now, sat up.
“d’you mind if i—?” you gestured towards him and his mattress as his eyes lit up in recognition, “oh. oh! yeah.” you awkwardly shuffled into his bed, knees touching his as you sat facing one another, “do you wanna—?” “i’m sorry for…” the two of you overlapped, after a beat of silence just meeting his eye caused you two to break out in hushed giggles and laughter.
“i kissed you, very randomly. i’m sorry luke.” he shook his head and smiled, “it’s fine, i liked it.” your eyebrows travelled up as you straightened your back, “you.. you didn’t mind?” his hands held onto yours, “not at all, i haven’t known you long, and you haven’t known me. but i want to continue getting to know you sweetheart.”
your smile could’ve stretched miles across america, your eyes shone brightly, if you’d asked he would give you the world. he was going to, wouldn’t it be nice? having someone by his side through it all?
that night you both slept side by side, his arms seemed to envelope you entirely. his nose dug into your neck, uncomfortable but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. luke slept soundly that night, his hands trailing over you, in the night and morning. being awoken by a kiss, morning breath be damned.
“not that i don’t love it, but what’s got you in such a good mood?” luke continued kissing down your neck as you giggled, “it tickles!” he murmured whilst continuing, “i don’t care.” your hands ran through his curls, your morning bliss was ruined by a yelp of surprise.
“what the— y/n?!” percy’s face was pure disgust as you shoved luke to the side, not realising that you’d been on the edge of the bed until luke collided with the hard wood floors with an ‘oof’. “oh god, are you okay?” a thumbs up had you smiling, before you realised the mess that you were in with percy.
“how? when? why?”
“all those questions will be answered eventually, percy, it’s nothing crazy okay? just calm down.” percy scoffed, “nothing crazy? it’s basically only been a few weeks and he has his tongue down my sisters throat.” that sobered you up, sleep washed away, “sister? did you just—?”
“i don’t know, but please, just try not to around me.” percy felt slightly embarrassed at letting you know how he thought of you. how could he not expect you to be a sister? you’d been in his life forever. “okay, not to interrupt but—,”
“then don’t.” percy snapped as you groaned, “ignore his royal sassiness, continue luke.” luke brushed himself off as he continued to speak, “todays capture the flag.”
percy wanted to throw himself over a cliff.
everyone else was amped up, practicing with friends and strategising whilst he sat on the grass as you triple checked his armour, “i think i’m fine y/n, do you want some bubble wrap? extra security.” he joked as you sighed, “i just want to make sure you’re okay, is that so wrong?” percy sighed, “no, i guess not.” you held onto his shoulders as you looked into his eyes, “i’m sorry.”
before percy could even ask for the reason for your apology a sloppy peck on his cheek was left behind as you ran off. “y/n!” you laughed at his screechy voice, but chirons voice explaining the rules shut you up.
the game seemed to be going well, you hoped so.
you were currently viewing percy floss on a rock, which made you want to push him over it, which you couldn’t for obvious reasons you settled for pelting his armour with rocks and pebbles. “ow!” you laughed at his exclamation, knowing it hadn’t hurt him, “please, it only hit your armour.” percy shrugged, “still.”
maybe you’d been to engrossed in staring at pebbles and thinking about luke but the girls managed to surround you. sword in hand you rose from the floor, tossing percy’s things his way. your own sword clutched tightly, “flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked as she held onto her own spear, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” you shook your head, disbelief filling you, “god you just don’t stop do you?” she laughed, “no maiming. it’s like the one rule.”
“yeah, i guess i’ll lose dessert privileges for a while. i’ll live.” your sword clashed with the girls, grunts ringing out through the air as you held your own. you weren’t concerned for yourself, only percy. you yelled out for him when he tripped over the log, “perce!”
clarisse stood infront of him, “i’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not. i just want you to admit you're a fraud, and that you’re having Y/N lie for you. it’d make me feel better. are you feeling up to that yet?” percy stumbled as he ran, you shoved the girl to the side and followed along, “keep running, don’t look back!” clarisse sighed, “guess that's a no.”
you ended up on the shore, percy rolling over as he stumbled to his feet, they all surged forwards as you continued to fight. clarisse mainly focused on percy whilst you held off the other two. one of the girls was overconfident, believing herself to be able to take you down with a few hits. your hand managed to slide into her armour on her shoulder, wrapping your hand around it you slung her into the water with all your strength. cringing when you heard her slam on the floor.
the other girl huffed, “wonder what we’ll do when you lose. maybe i’ll go over to your precious little percy, beat him around. a few stabs and slices might teach him the meaning of honesty.” her words were fuel to the fire inside you, your hands and body felt alive the second you began fighting, as if you were meant for it. you were going to beat this girl to the ground.
the victory of your team wasn’t enough to stop you, a moment of hesitance formed when luke planted the red flag into the floor as he celebrated with chris. spoiling his happiness was chris, “isn’t that your girl?” luke’s head whipped to look over at you on the shore, sword in hand as you faced off with the girl, percy held up by clarisse.
“it’s one thing to threaten me, but percy? you’re going to beg me to stop.” the campers were quiet, the entire area was abuzz with anticipation. your yell and hers broke the silence as you charged at eachother.
hit after hit, you continued pushing her back. swords colliding as you put all your force into the fight, the swords neared her throat. her terrified expression made you grin, “told you.” her legs were swept out from underneath her as she slammed into the floor, sword taken from her grasp by you.
luke cheered when she fell, igniting a string of applause and support from your team. but right now? all you could focus on was her. “you think this means anything? i’ve been fighting my whole life, you’re nothing. he’s nothing but a lying loser who lost his mommy.” the girl spit out blood, her teeth painted crimson. the power you felt looking down on her was unmatched by anything in your life. glancing backwards you viewed annabeth speaking with percy, who, thankfully, wasn’t fatally injured.
your grip on the hilt of your sword tightened as you lowered yourself, knee resting on either side of her waist. up above, dark clouds began to form, threatening a storm again. rage surged through you as you picked her up by her armour, “say it again! say it again and i’ll break you in half bitch!” your screams echoed as the campers watched on, you shoved her to the floor before raising your arms, your sword held high as you struck it down. right next to her head, simultaneous lighting struck all around you.
the thunder was deafening, but with the girl out of your way your focus came back with only one thought, percy. you turned around only to view percy standing in the water, a trident above his head. “percy!” you pointed towards it as he looked up in shock, what you didn’t expect was for him to point at you.
a lightning bolt, right above you.
luke’s jaw was close to the floor, you and percy had been claimed, both forbidden children. now this was awkward. but he swallowed his anger and made his way to you when he could. by then you’d already spoken with chiron, and had the situation explained to you. currently you were settling into your new cabin.
a knock on your door drew your attention as you called out, “who is it?”
“hint, it’s not clarisse. so don’t strike me down with lightning, i quite like being unburnt.” the voice you’d hoped to hear flowed through the room, “come in, please.” luke closed the door behind him as he made his way to you, “please? you really wanted to see me didn’t you?” he teased as you rolled your eyes.
“you’re not wrong.” your hands pulled on the drawstrings of his hoodie, tying them together and undoing. luke took in your change of demeanour, brushing stray hairs behind your ear, “you want to talk about it?” your lips pressed into a tight line, “not really. can we just sit? maybe read?” luke picked up a book from your bag whilst you laid down.
he laid down next to you as you settled your head onto his chest, “percy’s okay, i spent about an hour with him, talking. isn’t that funny? i always treated him like he was my brother, and he is.” he hummed, leaning his head onto yours, “makes sense, seeing you beat the crap out of the ares girl, knew you had to be something special. it was also very hot to watch.” you shifted to look up at luke, his smirk was evident as you buried your face.
“don’t get shy on me now, i’m just love struck. i have a lovely girl on my side, how am i supposed to hold myself back?” your hand traced a lightning bolt over his chest, “lovestruck huh?” he nodded along proudly, “maybe not lovestruck.” you sat up a bit, “what do you mean?” the concern laced in your voice was hard to miss.
“i’m thunderstruck.”
“and i’m going to murder you.” your hands attacked his side as he laughed.
“i take it back i swear!”
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whorekneecentral · 6 months
Text
Only The Best For You
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Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.
Word Count: 2,400
Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.
merry smutmas series
--
Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.
An old L/N family tradition.
Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.
You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.
It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.
"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.
She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"
Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."
Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.
"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.
A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.
It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"
Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."
The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.
He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.
Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.
"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.
Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.
If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"
"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.
"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.
He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.
You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.
He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.
"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.
Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.
"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.
Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."
Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"
"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."
You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.
"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.
"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."
Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.
--
As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.
It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.
You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.
"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"
"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"
He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.
The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.
Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.
"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."
Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.
"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."
"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"
He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."
"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.
You were persistent.
Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."
"Why not?"
"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.
You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.
"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.
Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."
"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.
Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.
“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.
He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?
It was heavy, heated.
His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.
“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”
The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.
His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.
Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.
He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.
"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."
Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.
He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.
You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.
You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.
He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.
Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.
Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.
"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?
You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.
He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.
“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”
His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.
Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.
"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.
You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."
Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."
"Merry Christmas, Kimi."
--
taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr  @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus
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nyoomerr · 6 months
Note
A drabble about Bingge realizing his children’s beloved Head Imperial Tutor has the same soul as the ‘nice Shizun’ from that other world he once visited could be fun.
“Local man must compete with his own children for the attention of their very cute teacher!”
ahhh i love scenarios like this!! pitting bingge against his own kids is always so fun lol, hope you enjoy!
---
When Luo Binghe manages to find him, he isn’t even looking properly. He’s still spending his free time trying to find a way back into that weird mirror dimension, not scouring his world for anyone. After all, why would he look here? He already knows exactly where the Shen Qingqiu of his own world is; every bloody, rotten part of that body and soul is accounted for. Luo Binghe wants the other Shen Qingqiu, the one he’d gotten only a taste of, the one that had been so unfairly given to his doppelganger.
Perhaps, Luo Binghe thinks, watching through the doorway into the classroom his younger children use for self-study, he should have bothered to spend a bit more time looking at home before trying to force himself back into the mirror world.
“Ah, what are these tears?” One of the tutors is asking, tutting as if in disapproval even as he so gently wipes the face of one of Luo Binghe’s children. “You’re getting much better with your arithmetic, there’s no need to cry over a mistake now.”
The child hiccups, her little hands coming up to pull on the tutor’s robes, clearly trying to worm her way into his lap so she can wipe her face on his shoulder instead of on the perfectly fine handkerchief the tutor is trying to use.
Luo Binghe doesn’t even know which daughter of his that is. He doesn’t know who this tutor is, either, and yet -
The tutor raises his free hand up to pat soothingly at the child’s hair. He doesn’t try to unhook her hands from his robes, or stop her from shoving herself persistently closer to his person; he only pets her hair and wipes her face and tuts at her.
And yet somehow, Luo Binghe thinks, I’m sure that’s him.
It doesn’t make a great deal of sense to find this soul in a body unrelated to Shen Qingqiu, but at the same time it makes a whole world of sense to think of this kind teacher as someone entirely different from the cruel master Luo Binghe had grown up under.
Luo Binghe steps into the room properly, releasing the hold he’d been keeping on his qi to keep it held close to his body. The tutor looks up at the doorway, and frustratingly, the look of indulgence he’d been wearing just moments ago closes up. He stands and bows in unison with the other tutors in the room, and Luo Binghe flicks his hand dismissively so they know to ignore him and return to his duties.
The tutor - the kind Shizun’s soul - stands from his bow but does not immediately return to helping the girl he’d been working with. He only watches Luo Binghe a bit warily, clearly aware of Luo Binghe’s rapt attention on him, and continues to absently pat the hair of Luo Binghe’s daughter. The girl herself doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s managed to get close enough to the tutor to shove her face in his stomach and nuzzle in there, perfectly content and no longer crying. 
Well, no matter; if this man is already aware of Luo Binghe’s attention, no need to hide it further. Luo Binghe approaches without hesitation. 
“And what tutor has brought this Lord’s child to tears?” Luo Binghe asks after having reached the table that this tutor and child had been working at. He knows perfectly well that this man was not the cause of his daughter’s tears; he wants to know how he’ll respond anyway.
“This lowly one is Shen Yuan, my Lord,” Shen Yuan dutifully replies, and though he bows deeply he does not raise his hands from Luo Binghe’s daughter. “My most sincere apologies; I will accept punishment.”
Luo Binghe hums, satisfied. Good, he thinks, he’s already loyal to me. Very good.
Before he can say anything else, though, the girl buried in Shen Yuan’s robes shouts, “No!”
When Shen Yuan stands again, Luo Binghe can see his daughter peeking out, her face half turned away from Shen Yuan to glare up at Luo Binghe. 
“No?” Luo Binghe asks.
“No!” She shouts again. Her demonic huadian flares, and Luo Binghe raises his brows - this girl really dares issue such a threat to her father, knowing who her father is?
Shen Yuan, seeming to catch the very same thing, quickly moves the hand that had been in her hair to cover up her demonic huadian. This does not stop the girl herself from talking.
“If you try to punish Shen-ge, I’ll stab you!”
“Ah, wait -” Shen Yuan protests, pressing the girl further into him as if that will hide her away. He glances nervously at Luo Binghe, expression a bit pinched, and then -
“Who’s threatening Shen-ge?!” Comes a cry from across the room.
“Someone’s threatening Shen-ge?!”
“Lord Luo is threatening Shen-ge!!”
Suddenly, it seems like half the children in the room are gathered up in Shen Yuan’s robes, clinging to him and glaring at Luo Binghe as Shen Yuan frantically tries to soothe them with head pats and hushed whispers of Ah, don’t yell at him, anyone else is okay, but don’t yell at him!
Luo Binghe watches, amused and irritated and hungry all at once. Clearly, this Shen Yuan is already a treasure of his palace, and he hadn’t even known it - his own children have found this man before he himself did. 
Well, Luo Binghe thinks, watching Shen Yuan fluster more and more the longer Luo Binghe stays quietly watching the commotion, they may have him first, but I will be sure to have him last.
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miss-dollette · 6 months
Text
Makarov • Baby Daddy Headcanons
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While Makarov is a psychopathic maniac without a care for anyone, he'd definitely never abandon his own. This man values loyalty above anything and will never forsake one of his own, especially his baby mama and his child.
A visit from Makarov would be rare, but when he visited, he always made sure to bring a gift for his baby, and sometimes, even for you. Nothing cheap, of course—a necklace worth thousands. See it as a reward for being an oh-so-good woman and bearing him a child.
Don't bother with work. Call in and never come back. Makarov has you covered for the rest of your life. He'd move you away from the dingy city and have you cozy with your baby in a house you'd never be able to pay off on your own. But you wouldn't need to worry about that - Makarov made sure to pay in cash to whatever sketchy realtor he knew would never reveal your location. If they did... let's just say they'd never sell another house again.
The new addition to the Makarov family would love their father. They'd cry all day in your arms, never stopping until their father's rough cheek scratched against their own, and he shushed them in his rough Russian manner.
The first time you handed over the tiny Makarov to their father would become a bittersweet memory.
"Make sure his/her neck is supported," you softly said while passing the baby into Makarov's arms, mindful of the delicate strength his/her little neck had yet to develop.
"Perfect," you said as Makarov gently held the baby in his arms, his neck crooked down as he watched his baby's eyelids flutter, their little pink cheeks, and tufts of hair on top their head. The baby tiny fist lifted into air, and Makarov placed his lips upon their tiny knuckles.
You leaned in and placed your lips on Vladimirs rough cheek.
He'd definitely pretend he wasn't obsessed with his newborn baby's scent. You'd walk into the nursery, and he'd shoot up from the crib and act like his nose wasn't all up in his baby's scalp.
He'd be fiercely protective of his family. No one, not even his closest allies, would know. Maybe Yuri, but he'd only tell him long after you gave birth.
If he had a son, he'd definitely plan to raise him in a macho-man way. Your son's fifth birthday gift would be a Russian prison knife from the Gulag. And no, he wouldn't care if you made a fuss about it being dangerous for a child.
"Now, why the hell would you give him that? What were you thinking?"
"He's nearly a grown man, and every grown man needs a knife."
"He's five!"
"I was gifted a rifle when I was five, so be grateful!"
Now, if he had a daughter, that would be a whole 'nother story. She would definitely be his little tsarina. All she would need to do is ask, and she'd have it in her little palm.
"She'll become a spoiled little brat if you keep spoiling her like that,"
"What, like you?"
"Not funny."
"Seems funny to me. Come, My Little Tsarina, let's go pick out one of your future cars."
He grew up poor and constantly surrounded by critters sneaking around in his home. He'd bring home stray cats to make sure no rats or mice would go near his baby.
Will sometimes sleep over. You'd both sleep in the same bed, and his razor-sharp training from when he was a soldier would come to good use. Any noise your baby made would wake him instantly.
He's paranoid as hell, so be ready for him to patrol the house multiple times a day. Your baby will grow up thinking it's normal for his father to have an automatic assault rifle in hand, walking around with murder in his eyes, ready to blow apart whoever dared target his family.
The baby would giggle every time their father passed by, and you'd watch boredly as he walked past. It got boring after the first ten times.
If there ever was a break in, God bless the idiot who did so. Not even his bones would be found.
Other than that, he's a cutie patootie when it comes to his baby. But like, a scary cutie patootie.
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yandere-writer-momo · 19 days
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Yandere Fairytale Series:
Rapunzel
Part 1 Part 2
Yandere Witch x Rapunzel Reader x Yandere Prince
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For many, long years you had resided in an isolated tower deep in the forest with an elderly woman named Agnes and her daughter Hilda. The three of you had lived here together and created a nice home for yourselves in a place no man could ever harm you… or at least that’s what Agnes instilled in you and Hilda since you were children. Men were evil and couldn’t be trusted. They would lure you in with sweet words and promises, but then they’d swallow you whole like a beast.
Since you were ten, Hilda and Agnes never let you lift a finger nor did they let you outside. “It’s dangerous for you. You’re far too delicate for the forest. Leave it to us, (your name).” Agnes would always tell you before she took Hilda with her to forage and hunt.
Despite your years with the two of them, Agnes told you that you were not biologically her child. “Hilda and I found you in the forest one day. You were just a baby and we couldn’t leave you… so you can stay here with us, forever. You’re ours, my dear.”
They’d brush your hair as it slowly began to grow longer than the length of the tower. Your long hair was used to come and go after Agnes and Hilda sealed off the door to ‘keep you safe.’
Every time you’d ask to go out or inquire about what they’d see, Agnes would shut you down. “Curiosity killed the cat, dear. You just wait here, we will be back.”
The mother and daughter often took trips for supplies. Whether it was berries or necessities, their trips only took a few hours… sometimes they took a few days. It just depended on what they needed. The pair never let the supplies dwindle much. Agnes hated being irresponsible when it came to stock.
It was when you were over the age of twenty that Agnes’s health took a turn. Hilda would often weep with you as she held you close. You and Hilda had grown so close… Hilda swore she wouldn’t let her mother down. That’d she’d carry on her will. (A will you didn’t have a clue about)
When Agnes passed away, Hilda immediately took charge over the chores around the tower. The beautiful young woman often fretted over you as she made sure the two of you were cared for. She took over brushing your long locks and gathering supplies.
Sometimes Hilda would braid her long black hair with hers. So ‘the two of you were connected.’ It was always fun whenever Hilda would let you play with her hair.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back! I can bring you back your favorite berries.” Hilda would gave you a reassuring smile before she headed out into the forest. You watched her form until she disappeared into the trees.
So you’d get back to painting the walls with a hum. Your hair draped behind you like a waterfall as you sat on your homemade swing.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud clank on the side of your tower. What on earth was that?!
You jumped off your swing and ran to look at the balcony. A grappling hook was slung around the metal frame as a hooded figure began to scale the tower. Who we that?!
You went to shut the balcony door but ended up slipping on your own hair. Your back hit the floor as you whined in pain. Your eyes wide in terror at the knight that now stood in front of you as he quickly winded up the rope. The knight mumbled some curses before he shoved the grappling hook in his bag.
“W-who are-“ the knight pushed you further into the tower as he put a gloved hand over your mouth. Your body trembled when you looked into their lilac eyes. You’d never seen such pretty eyes before…
There was shouting below and the sound of hooves. Was this knight being pursued? You couldn’t tell since the knight held you firmly in their arms until the voices disappeared into the distance.
The knight breathed a sigh of relief before they released her. You quickly shoved the knight away from you as you scooted your body as far away from them as you could. You swore your heart was about to leap from your chest.
“Who are you?” You shakily asked but the knight gave you a small bow. Their hands slipped off the silver helmet on their head to reveal a rather striking individual with sharp features and long, lavender hair.
“I apologize for my intrusion. I’m Prince Vinicio of the Corcoran kingdom.” The knight’s voice was a lot deeper than she expected. How could a woman have such a deep voice?
“Prince? Don’t you mean princess?” You softly asked which made the knight erupt into laughter.
“No. Despite my rather feminine appearance, I’m male.”Vinicio smiled warmly at you. “I just noticed how long your hair is. Have you been growing it out for a long time-“
You jumped when he reached a hand out to you which made him frown. Vinicio’s mind began to wander as he glanced around your home. Did you live here all alone? This wilderness was not becoming of a lady, especially not one as stunning as you. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“P-please leave. I’m not supposed to talk to men.”
Vinicio frowned but gave you a small bow out of respect. You must be being held against your will in this lonely tower… he’d have to gain your trust to save you.
“I apologize, I’ll take my leave.” Vinicio put his helmet back on but turned to give you one last look. “But can I meet you again tomorrow? I can talk to you from below the tower. I won’t climb up here again.”
You bit your lip. Agnes had always warned you and Hilda about men but Vinicio didn’t seem dangerous… “Okay. But only if you promise to not climb.”
Vinicio smiled warmly at you. “I promise.”
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lovifie · 2 months
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Spidey 🕸️
Ghost x Spiderwoman!Reader
@cheomain 's idea 💗
I haven't seen the new movie, so I went with the classics, hope you like it.
You were the new member of the 141, Laswell's own recommendation. But even Price, who would trust Laswell with his life, had second thoughts about you joining. 
You were a scrawny, half-blind, way too young girl. The last person Price would have picked for the team. 
“Let them show you, John. You need her to hack and collect the intel. She can't take a grown man down, but she's a decent shot.”
So he let you join, most of the time you felt like a child; constantly being told to walk close between two of them or it would be the complete opposite and they would tell you to stay hidden taking advantage of your tiny size. 
Ghost was the one that liked you the least, he already worried about the whole team making it back home safe and they were able to fend for themselves. You? You were like a puppy, walking between their feet almost making them fall all the time, and still, you looked fucking delighted to be in the way. Ghost hated how happy you seemed to be all the time, hated how unaware of the danger you seemed to be, and he hated that he was unable to ignore how much he cared you got back safe.
But there was a thing he hated more than anything. 
Superheroes.
The 141 was one of the few task forces that still existed, in many places arguing that they were no longer needed since now there were superheroes. And the hatred the population already had for the military only got worse. 
Plus, even though Simon never joined the military to get famous, it still rubbed him the wrong way when they would go on a mission, fight for days, lose friends, and only for a random superhero to arrive when everything was almost finished and take all the glory. 
He hated them all their life, and he always wondered why people liked them so much when he was home any of them came to save him, his mom or his brother. He always hoped one would save him, but they never did. 
So both Simon and Ghost hated superheroes.
All of them. 
So when they got the intel that a lab was working on creating new superheroes, he didn't need any more convincing and started getting ready.
The five of you walked along the rows and rows of animals captive inside the lab. Luminescent fish, shielded beetles, poisonous snakes, all the kinds. Ready to be experimented with, just for selfish humans wanting to be heroes. 
“Keep walking, kid” Price mumbled behind you, making you peel your eyes away from the different fish bowls and terrariums. “Alright. Kid, you stay in this room and look around if you can find any document or proof. The four of us will go down the hall, there are some lights on, see if we can find anyone.”
You nod, already used to being left alone, and walk around the office, pushing your glasses up when they slide down your nose as you look down at the desks. Lab records of failed attempts, codified names of patients, data of the genome of the different animals they used, by the look of all of them they have been trying for years. Poor animals.
It is at that point, while you are reading the information of the different animals, that you feel a sharp pain in your lower back, right over your ass check. 
“Fuck!” You mumble, the sound reaching the team's ears through the intercom and making them still in their moves. 
You turn around, expecting to see somebody stabbing you. But you are still alone and when you look at the point the pain came from, you only see a tiny spider. 
“Fucking perfect.” You groan to yourself as you slap the spider off your body, but once again it reaches the rest of the team.
“Kid, what the fuck are you doing?” Price asks, the team still immobile waiting for your explanation. 
“Nothing, sir. Keep going.” You say, not wanting to jeopardise the mission. Part of you gets offended by how they automatically keep going without another care, but the actual logical part of you starts to panic because you just got bitten by a spider from a lab that tries and makes superhumans. 
You frantically try to find some kind of information about said spider in the files on top of the desk, almost crying when you find it and read: “Not poisonous.” 
Shots and screams can be heard from the end of the hall and you know you don't have time to read the whole file. So you snatched it, shoving it under your vest, just in time for the first people to come running out. 
“Kid! Don't engage in combat! I repeat, don't engage!” Price's voice barks in your ear.
“Roger that!” You quickly answer, hiding under the desk and holding your breath as people run around you. One of them stopped right beside you and frantically shoved around the papers just like you were doing a moment ago. 
“Shit! Shit! Shit! It's gone! The spider is gone! The file too! FUCK!” The person next to you screams, only adding to your ongoing anxiety about being bitten. 
“Leave it!” A second voice shouts getting closer. “Leave everything and run! They are activating the system! This shit is about to get blown to bits! Run!” 
The second they are far enough to grab the radio to talk to the team. “Captain! They are blowing up the lab! We need to get out!” 
“Take as much info as you can and run, kid! The door is locked, we are going out the other way, we can see the exit! Meet us at pick up!” The Captain quickly shouted back.
“What?!” You ask back. “You were leaving me here?!” 
You can make out what he says, but you stand up to look around. You need to take something with you, even if it is only to hit them with it. 
There is a laptop on top of the desk, so you grab it along with as many files as you can bring. Sprinting to the door, the workers of the lab already out of the place, way more lucky than you. The halls inside are an absolute maze, and the only thing you have to guide you out are the blood marks of those who got out before you. 
Just when you see the outside, the helo in the distance hovering just half a meter off the floor, you hear the beep beep beeeep of a countdown going off. Only managing to put a foot outside of the door, before the blast wave sends you flying forward, your glasses flying away from you. Clutching the laptop as if it were your own life, especially taking into consideration that your “team” would be more worried about it. 
Your ears ring when you open your eyes again, a buzzing sound in the background coming from the helicopter. Gaz on the open door calling your name, enough to get back on your feet and keep running; the man picks you up from your vest and takes you inside before closing the door. 
You leave the laptop on the floor, files scattering around as well as you sit on the floor, back resting against the wall, hugging your legs as you try to get your breath back. 
Gaz is looking at you worried, Soap is beside you tidying up the files, Ghost flying the helicopter and Price is behind Gaz, staring at you. 
You can't help it back look back at him with anger in your eyes, he was ready to leave you behind if you didn't get out on your own and he didn't even tell you. Suddenly feeling like your biggest ally today was the terrorist who told his colleague. 
The ringing in your eyes slowly fades away, the sound of the helicopter sounding more and more clear. 
“You solid, kid?” Price's voice sounds over the rotating blades. 
“Yeah… not thanks to you, though.” You say, mumbling the last part, pissed about it. Price chooses to ignore it, for the sake of the peace. Only giving you a look of “We'll talk later.”
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By the time you reach the base, you are burning up. Every time you close your eyes being harder to open them back up, your whole body feels on fire and you're feeling pain in places you didn't even know you could. 
You should go to the infirmary, but then they would see the spider bite and it would make sense that they would want to leave you behind, or at least that's the reasoning behind your decision to instead go to your room and sleep it off. 
Or at least you would if the pain wasn't keeping you awake, you turn around in bed trying to find a comfy position failing and failing again and again. Still, at some point, it must have knocked you out because the knocking on the door wakes you up. 
The sun is out and the fever seems to be gone, so you stand up, groaning because of the residual pain and walk up to the door, opening it. Coming face to face with Ghost. 
“Morning, soldier” He greets, no kind of emotion in his voice and you can't see his face. “You skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning, we don't need you any skinnier.”
Just then you take notice of the paper bag on his hand and the water bottle on the other. You try to use the hand that is still holding the doorknob, only to realize that it seems to be stuck to it. You furrow your eyebrow, which doesn't go unnoticed by Ghost; and you point to the table with your other hand. 
“Can you leave it there, please?” You ask, still trying to get your other hand free as you open the door more so he can come in. 
He enters the room, dropping the food on the table and turning to you with crossed arms. “Are you alright?” He asks, still confused with the way you seem to not be able to let go of the door, pulling back with all your body weight.
“Peachy.” You grunt back, your hand finally detaching from the knob and almost sending you to the floor as the door bust open hitting the wall. “A weird cramp, that's all.”
He nods slowly, walking away from the table and closer to the door. “You sure you are fine? You flew quite some meters yesterday… you lost your glasses.” He points to your face
Until he mentions it you haven’t realise because you can see perfectly fine; even better than before when you were wearing them. You furrow your brow, rubbing your eyes as if to get the bad eyesight back by pure force and you look at him, still seeing better than ever. 
“Yeah… they flew yesterday, I'll get new ones.” You say, still confused by it. He nods, telling you about letting Price know so he can give you the money back and starts to walk out of the door, turning back and rubbing his face already dreading what he is about to do. “Oh, and, hey… good job, yesterday.” 
As he talks, he raises his fist for you to bump it. Which only adds to the confusion, he really must feel bad for leaving you behind yesterday. Still, the situation is so awkward it is causing you physical pain, so you bump his fist to get over with it and close the door with your feet when he leaves. 
Once alone in your room, you rub your face with frustration only for your fingertips to get stuck on your forehead. You stay paralyzed for a second, not understanding what is going on and trying to peel your hands away from your face. 
Your skin stings when you try to pull making you whence, understanding that you can't just pull. So you close your eyes, take a deep breath and quickly pull your hands as if you could catch it by surprise. You curse when it obviously doesn't work walking back, knocking the water bottle off the table, surprising yourself when your hands catch the bottle before it even rolls off the table.
Something tells you to look at your phone, and just when you do a message pops up. You focus all your senses on letting go of the bottle and it falls off your hands like normal, making you doubt if you really got stuck before. You look at your phone, using your knuckle to unlock it and tapping in the password to read Ghost's message.
💀: Debriefing in 20’
💀: Shower!
“Rude.” You think, knowing damn well that you stink for coming straight from the mission and spending the night sweating. You type back with your knuckle:
🕷️: rofer thar
“Shit… close enough” You lock the phone and take off your clothes to shower. Once on your underwear, you turn to look into the mirror the spider bite on your hip; only to see that your body is not the same as yesterday's. 
It looks like you gained at least 10 kilos of pure muscle, your biceps popping out, shoulders rounded out by muscle, thicker thighs that you know will not fit on your pants anymore, rounder ass and overall the athletic build of some kind of olympic athlete. 
The only mark on your skin being the bite, even some of your freckles are gone from your skin. The bite, on the other hand, looks terrible. Two little dark purple dots are visible, the surrounding red and angry and little lighting-like red lines go out of it, going up your back and around your hip. 
You take a deep breath and jump into the shower, using the back of your hands to do so, which only makes it trickier. Once washed, you look into your closet taking out the only clothes you believe will fit you. A pair of leggings that sit just a bit too tight and an oversized sweatshirt to cover as much as possible. 
You put on your shoes and walk to the captain's office; to your disgrace, the door is closed and you knock. You hear, as if it was right behind you, a “C’mon in”. But you don't want to risk it getting stuck, so you play dumb and knock again. Ghost opens the door and comes face to face with you again, much closer than in your room and you see his eyebrow furrow 
“Have you gone on a growth sprout in the last 20 minutes?” He asks, confusion clear in his tone. “And are you wearing makeup?”
You realize that the freckles on your face must have banished too, plus the fact that the bags under your eyes seemed to be gone as well last time you checked. 
“No. Must be the shoes.” You answer, walking under his arm inside the room feeling his eyes travel down your body. You sit down next to Gaz, looking at Price as Ghost closes the door and sits down, still looking at you. 
“First thing first.” The captain says clearing his throat. “Great job yesterday, you can work on the laptop whenever you want, kid. And also, good job for the heads-up about the bomb.” 
“You didn't know?” You ask, confused by his words.
He shakes his head. “We were wondering why everyone was running out, we tried to go back to you and the gates were blocked, we were suspicious of it but you confirmed it.”
You nod your head slowly, taking it in.“All set, then, right?” He asks looking at the four others. “If you are still mad you can say it, I don't want my team keeping their thoughts in only for them to explode in the middle of the mission. Is there anything you want to say, kid?”
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TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @lunari0 @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @dilara-del @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles
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arminsumi · 8 months
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SAKURA.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE: i really liked this idea and merged it with my little daydream of Gojo being in his clan and meeting you in a small village (like before he moved to the city or something) and tweaked it just a lil bit if that's ok!! i hope i delivered, and mwa ty for your request lovely anon i hope i got it all right, enjoyyy 💐
REQUEST: Can you pls write gojo who gets the Hanahaki disease cause of reader and gojos condition worsens so to keep the strongest alive the higher ups set up an arranged marriage with reader (her mission is to love gojo so he doesn’t die but she is defensive and uncooperative at first) but then she warms up to gojo (he does everything to make her happy) and they both live happily ever after 😭💕
SUMMARY — you meet a boy on a Taiko-bashi as a child. Little did you know, he was the prodigal son of the Gojo clan, and you would be married into that family to save his life.
WARNINGS — heavy angst to fluffy fluff, he steals ur first kiss, domestic life with ur kid Megumi at the end <3 😭, unrequited -> requited love, arranged marriage, quite a lot of blood/bloody flower mentions, disease/afflicted with coughing spells (see about the fictional Hanahaki disease here. Basically u cough up flowers and/or throw up full flowers if it gets life-threatening), poor boy almost dies, there’s a scene where it’s insinuated that he throws up a full flower, some teasing/playfulness yk the usual you'd expect from gojo, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u
WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.3k
PLAY ME ♪ bouquet — Ichiko Aoba
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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When you were seven, a boy a few years older than you – perhaps two or three – passed you by on a Taiko-bashi in a small village. You remember him as the boy with peculiar eyes and white hair who looked back at you on the bridge. In your eyes, it was a very ordinary encounter with a very extraordinary looking stranger.
But in his infinitely blue eyes, there was ingrained a more meaningful and vivid memory of that encounter. He held it very close to his heart. When you and he made that brief eye contact as he looked behind his shoulder, slowing at his mother’s side, he felt a windswept, lovestruck feeling come over him. He batted his pretty lashes at you and stopped walking for a fleeting moment, as if captivated, and then went his separate way with the image of your face burned into the forefront of his mind. His kimono fluttered as he tended to walk in a gliding manner.
When you were fourteen, the same encounter happened again. A familiarly pale face with barely grown-in features looked back at you – his whole body felt a twinge of excitement. He only took one small moment to look at you and yet knew you were the same girl he saw as a child on this very same bridge.
Years went by, and the two of you kept encountering each other at peculiar times in your lives at that same bridge. Neither of you spoke to each other once, well, you didn’t say a word – but he uttered a few boyishly desperate greetings and even bowed as he glided past you to try and get your attention. If only you would have stopped for a chat, the poor boy would have given anything for that.
In some way, it felt like the two of you knew each other, though it was only your eyes that ever talked.
Come your eighteenth birthday, you were burdened with awful news. You were to be married to a man you had never met – someone from the Gojo clan. That person was apparently fatally sick with a disease you had scarce knowledge on. You asked your friend at the time, her name you’ve long forgotten by now, about Hanahaki and all she said was;
“Your lover is going to spit flowers in your face.”
You scrunched your nose up in disgust and confusion at this. A very silly image formed in your mind about the disease ever since your old friend had said that – all you could imagine was your future husband spitting saliva-wettened, half-destroyed flowers at your face.
The Gojo family and your family had always distantly known each other, hence all the visits to the village that they resided in. Your marriage to Gojo was long-debated throughout the years – yet neither you nor him knew anything about it. Neither of you prospected marriage, you were just the two strangers that passed each other on the Taiko-bashi every time the Sakura was in bloom.
The first time you and the son of the Gojo clan were introduced, it had already begun with a rocky start. You walked in when he had been overwhelmed with a coughing fit, and you were hushed back outside. The shoji door smacked shut behind you, and you heard sickly coughs piercing through the translucent sheets. When your future husband stopped coughing, and the blood and petals were cleaned up, you were brought back into the room. There were both your families and some important-looking officials in the large room, all formally sat on the tatami mats with mixed expressions. His mother seemed delighted at the sight of your face – but not more than her son.
Gojo Satoru, an eighteen-year-old at the time, with usually such a loud mouth and good joke up his sleeve, was rendered speechless when you had walked into the room. He analysed and absorbed every feature that made up the image of what he thought was the most charming and alluring creature ever to exist. Definitely a creature, he thought as you formally bowed with him, because no human could possess such an ethereal beauty.
Satoru was intrigued by you from your encounter on the Taiko-bashi, but when he was finally introduced to you he was utterly captivated.
The reasons and conditions for your marriage with the Gojo clan’s prodigal son conflicted with your strong beliefs in love and romance. You had rather aggressively told the poor boy your opinions in the days leading up to your wedding.
“I always thought,” you emphasized with a snotty tone, yet he listened to you like one would listen to the tranquil flow of the river under the Taiko-bashi, “that I would marry someone I loved, and not be forced to love…” you seemed so disappointed with how your life was turning out, that he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for you.
“I’m a positive person, I have faith that you’ll fall in love with me in no time.” He said cheekily and winked at you. You felt very taken aback by such straight-forward flirting – you must understand, no boys in your village ever did that. They were very proper, even reserved.
He was almost charming in that instant, but then he added; “Who wouldn’t fall in love with me?”
At the time he was so full of himself that you could hardly believe there was space for any petals in his body. But there certainly was – when you left him alone in that room and stormed off, appalled by his conceit, he clutched the side of the door frame and coughed up little pink petals – enough to comprise three whole flowers.
It started worrying him, a few days before the wedding, when he started coughing more often. And not just that, but he started coughing up more petals than he had ever in his life. The peculiar disease had started during a time in his childhood that was coincidentally very close to the time he first passed you by on the bridge.
The night before the wedding, he laid in bed and brooded. And he was never the type to brood – he let life happen and moved on relatively easily. But he brooded, and brooded until it felt like he sunk so deep into his futon that he became one with it. The ceiling blurred.
What was going to happen if you didn’t fall in love?
That thought scared him so much that he violently drove it out of his mind and replaced it with an ideal daydream; he envisioned you and him cuddled up, bracing each other’s bodies, and melting into each other like real lovers do. He imagined you would be warmer than him, with that cool touch he had, and you would also stroke his hair. It was very fluffy, he made sure to point that out to you several times – but you never took a hint.
On the day of your wedding, he snuck to meet you just before the ceremony. He was crouched in the garden outside the room that you were preparing in. It’s then when he heard you voice your feelings to whoever it was helping you get ready.
“How can I love a stranger? And anyways, he is so full of himself, I can hardly believe there’s space for any flowers in there. There’s nothing I like about him.”
“Oh, Y/n, you have yet to learn about him. I’m sure you will find he’s rather charming. He is the pride of the Gojo clan, after all – he has the Six Eyes and Limitless. He’s the strongest, he’ll always be able to protect you – ”
It sounded like the woman talking about him was your mother, with how she praised him so much. She was right, Gojo thought; he could protect you from anything.
His expression was grave after hearing your thoughts. But he put on a lightened smile and masked his slight heartbrokenness when the rituals and main ceremony commenced.
It was a very formal, rigid ceremony. Gojo looked up at you sadly a few times, wishing you would spare a glance. He brooded on the idea that you’ll never love him like he loves you, and then a sickening, ticklish feeling spread in his throat and just as the closing ritual ended, he burst into a coughing fit – one of his worst yet. A bit of blood dribbled out his flushed lips, contrasting against his pale skin. Of course you were concerned – and of course you felt the urge to help and comfort him. But those feelings were purely out of the goodness of your heart.
Friends share love. But even when you and Gojo developed something resembling a friendship, it didn’t alleviate his disease. It was embarrassing sometimes, to realize that you were failing at the one thing you had to do; and that was keep him alive.
He was quite genuinely dying for you to love him.
Yet you refused to be in the same room as him for too long. Your mother had to encourage you. Eventually, both his family and your family worked together to make sure you and Gojo spent adequate time with each other. They organized meetups ranging from fancy nights-out to long voyages to weekend sleepovers. It was comical, how your families got along more smoothly than you and Gojo.
It’s the spring of his nineteenth birthday when the thought of kissing you becomes a reality. Well, it doesn’t go as he planned it. See, Gojo envisioned that kissing you would solve all his problems – he thought he could infect you with his love, somehow worm into your heart through a passionate kiss.
So when you and him sat for tea in a spacious room, kneeled side by side on the tatami mats, he went in for a kiss. You were distractedly straightening out your kimono when suddenly a pair of inexperienced, boyish lips crashed onto yours.
“Mmf!” you reacted with sheer shock – why on earth was he kissing you? The audacity, he had just insulted and made a mockery of you with a cheeky, playful attitude.
“Satoru!” you whined into his mouth.
He cupped the back of your neck and partly entangled his hands in your hair. White lashes sat pretty as he closed his eyes and glided his wettened lips over yours. For the briefest moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss. But suddenly, as if your principles of love kicked back in and stomped on the moment, you shoved him away.
And a hard shove that was, he fell out of balance and landed on the mats with his elbows, a look of shock and surprise twisting into comedy.
“Playing hard to get?” he joked. His heart sunk ever so slightly at your rejection.
“You can’t just kiss a girl!”
“Come on, I’m your husband – if I can’t kiss you, then who is allowed to?” he asked.
You looked furious, like you were about to bite him, so he slowly started backtracking.
“I just wanted to see if kissing you would – ”
“How dare you, that was my first kiss! I thought I would have a cute first kiss, not a hasty one shared over… over a cup of tea!” you complained.
His expression changed and he started sputtering apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I – ahuh!” he started lightly coughing.
And now it was your turn to feel apologetic, because all the bad tension between you and him brought on another violent coughing fit for him.
“I’m okay.” He choked out, eyes water and face reddened – some blood pooled at the corners of his lips, he instinctually brought his hand up to his mouth to catch any that dripped.
You rushed and kneeled over him, placing a much-needed soothing hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, I’m sorry.”
He tried to muster up a joke to lighten your worry, “H-hey, since when d’you call me S-Satoru? I thought it was strictly Go-jo.” he was interrupted by more coughing.
You comforted him, until his parents came into the room. They seemed disappointed with you, but masked it.
The night fell heavy all around the Gojo home. The barren Sakura trees’ branches subtly shook in the wind. A storm was approaching.
“Hey, sweetlips.” Gojo slipped into your room as you were in the middle of preparing for bed. “There’s a big storm comin’, if you get scared you can sleep with me.”
“Are you out of your mi-” you shut up when a sudden, extraordinary crack of lightning sounded and shocked you right out of your skin.
Gojo had a little laughing fit at your overreaction. He was completely calm at such a loud noise. Of course he was.
“I’m not sleeping with you!” you muttered angrily, but then you saw the dejection on his face – no, rather, you saw the way he tried to conceal it, and you felt bad.
Maybe tonight is the night you’ll try harder, you thought.
“Okay, well, don’t cry like a wimp if the thunder scares you ‘cause I won’t come running to soothe you.” He said and left you alone.
When he walked down the hall, his fingers grazed over his lips. All he could think about was how blissful it felt to kiss you, even if you did reject him. And he was your first kiss – maybe it was wrong to smile over that, but he couldn’t help himself as he climbed into the comforts of his bed.
A violent rainstorm engulfed the village.
As the lightning got more frequent and more terrifying, Gojo scrunched up his shoulders and half-hid his face under his blanket. He felt like a boy again, as scared of the thunderstorms as he was when he was seven years old. His pretty upturned nose peaked over the blanket, eyes glistening with tears as he recalled the fateful day you and him encountered each other at the Taiko-bashi.
He held onto that memory with a death grip. No one else ever had the honor of being so close to his heart, not even his best friend who he had made at Jujutsu high when he was seventeen. No, that heart of his he kept reserved for you. He thought to himself that night, while curling up on his side in pain, that even if he dies, at least he would die having been able to love you – albeit without reciprocation.
And then it happened. He shot up and let out a violent cough, and began spluttering over his white blanket. The thunderstorm was so violent that it muffled even the violent coughing in his room. His head felt like a dense ball of tension.
Unrequited love for many boys his age was heartbreaking, but not deadly. He morbidly laughed at that fact, observing the flower that he had thrown up onto his blanket, soaked in his blood.
He was dying.
He defeatedly closed his eyes, breathing through his blood-glistening mouth. His chest lightly heaved. “Y/n, you’re really gonna be the death of me… ah, oh well. That’s okay.” He muttered madly to himself and fell back onto his bed, too weak to stay awake any longer.
It was probably the work of the universe, but you floated down the unlit hall and tapped at Gojo’s doorframe. “Are you awake? Satoru?” you called his name in a gentle murmur.
There was an eerie silence. You slid open the door and caught a glimpse of bloodied sheets and a mangled-looking flower.
“Satoru!” you rushed over to him, stirring him awake with a harsh shake on his arm. “Satoru? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
He groaned weakly – you felt a small relief. He wasn’t dead, though he really looked pale enough to be. His cheeks were flushed, his lips cracked and dry with residual blood.
Not a word you spoke sounded coherent to him though it was, all he heard was the soothing qualities in your voice. Though his vision was blurred, he knew it was you, because he felt the familiar air and scent of you.
He felt a strange sort of alleviation when you cupped his cheeks, murmuring something. Oh, when did he end up in a doctor’s room, laid on a patient’s cot? Weren’t you and him just in his bedroom at night, during a loud thunderstorm?
All he recalled was that you held his hand and squeezed it for a long time, while you were travelling somewhere. He remembered feeling your comforting presence each time his consciousness stirred.
“Have I died and gone to heaven?” he chuckled jokingly, feeling your lips press to his forehead.
“Huh?”
“Probably dreaming…” he muttered to himself.
“Satoru, you’re not in heaven you’re at Doctor Tanaka’s home.” You told him.
He pinched his eyes shut, overwhelmed by his afflicting sickness and Six Eyes.
“I’m so sorry…” he heard you speaking in a more tender voice to him than you ever had before. He felt the pressure in his chest lessen as you spoke, “… I was going to come to you because the thunderstorm scared me… no, actually, because I wanted to be with you. I felt this overwhelming urge to be at your side, and I don’t know why. Satoru, I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been such a scared fool, fearful of loving a stranger. Or, no, I guess I’ve feared loving someone I’m not supposed to be loving. You’re so special I feel driven away by it. But I promise I won’t flee from your love anymore, Satoru – I love you, and I’ll express it as much as I can in this feeble human form. The rest of our love will happen in the stars, after we die, I guess.”
He opened his eyes. It felt like the burdening fog that had been plaguing him since he was a little boy on the Taiko-bashi finally cleared. Everything felt fresh and sharp, and good and properly comforting. It felt like he had woken up from a long dream or arrived home from a harrowing journey through the landscapes of his mind.
“So you can be good with your words.” Was the first thing he said, and that was such a Gojo response that you knew he was okay.
“How do you feel?” you asked him, peering down at him.
He groaned and stretched and shifted around, fussing dramatically.
“I feel…” he began, and looked over at your lips. “Like I deserve to be kissed.”
“Oh, shut up you…”
He pouted. “Okay, ‘guess the kissing can wai- mmf!”
You kissed him very quickly and recoiled from shyness. His lips were divine.
He shot up out of the bed like he couldn’t just believe what happened.
“Wow.” He blinked at you. “So gutsy, you know you’re not allowed to kiss your husband!” he joked.
“You are such a – ”
“ – good kisser?”
“An idiot!” you giggled, genuinely enjoying his company.
The two of you bantered, basking in the newfound feeling of shared love. When the doctor came back in, he was preparing to witness the worst – but he was utterly surprised and at a loss for words when he walked in on you two smiling and laughing.
And it was the talk of the village. Neighbors gossiped, “Did you hear that Gojo Satoru is cured?” they spoke amongst themselves, “I heard! Apparently it’s a very romantic love story, did you read the newspaper article?”
You and Gojo drifted down the Taiko-bashi, together. He squeezed your hand when you set foot on the bridge, the cool skin of his wrist tickling your inner wrist as they pressed together.
“What are we doing here?” you asked him confusedly.
“Don’t you know this place? It’s the place we met.”
“Ooh, you’re romantic, huh?” you smirked.
A small blush crowned his cheeks.
“I’ve been romantic since the start.” He defended.
“What d’you mean! You were so cheeky!” you kicked his leg.
“I was quite a menace, I’m sorry – not sorry – kidding, kidding, I am sorry.”
He looked at you with a cheeky smirk, knowing damn well what you were talking about.
“You know…” he began, looking over the bridge at the river flowing beneath and admiring how the stream carried the Sakura blossoms. “Whenever I used to get coughing fits – bad ones – I would soothe myself with the memory of when we first met here. I can still recall the kimono you wore, and the Sakura that got tangled in your hair – and I thought about…” he came closer to you, speaking with a charming allure, “How badly I wanted to pluck that flower from your hair.”
You blinked up at him. How could such romantic words come out of him? You didn’t know how to respond.
“Ooh, did I make you shy?” he teased.
“No…”
“I totally made you shy. That’s so sweet. Are you blushing?” he giggled, putting his cool palm up to your cheek to feel the heat, “Oh, you’re blushing blushing. You could burn my hand right off.”
“Satoru!” you giggled.
“Ah!” he clutched his chest dramatically when you said his name, “Don’t say my name like that! I have a wife.” He joked.
“You are ridiculous!”
He gave you a big, toothy smile. “But you love me for it.”
“I do.” You tell him, and though he’s heard it many times after that day, each time feels like the first time you’re saying you love him.
“Gimme a kiss.” He asks.
“Come get it.” You tease, slowly backing away off the bridge.
“Seriously? You’re gonna make me chase you for a kiss? I’ve coughed up petals because of you, ‘n you’re gonna do me like this – heyyy! Get back here!”
Running into the petal-littered streets like carefree kids felt so freeing and exhilarating. He felt like he was catching up on all the fun he missed, if only you would have lived in his village as a child or visited more often.
“Got you!”
“Ah! Jesus, you scared – mmmf!”
He didn’t hesitate to take a much-needed kiss from your quivering lips. He kissed you so hard that you felt dizzied, lost for breath, rendered speechless. And he relished the love pouring out from you.
You stood there being kissed by your husband in a quaint alley, standing tiptoed on the Sakura blossom-littered ground to meet him halfway. Gojo’s heart thumped at the smallest things, like the fact you were standing on your tiptoes – that was the cutest thing in the world to him.
The two of you took a break for breath, and silently admired the Sakura blossoms as they drifted, being swept away by the wind.
Gojo looked at them, and looked at you, and thought of everything that had happened up until now. He was about to say something lovey-dovey but blurted out a dumb joke instead just to hear your laugh.
“Damn, I used to cough up those things.”
You laughed, “Your jokes aren’t good, Satoru.”
“But you laughed.” He said cockily.
“Shut up or I will never kiss you again.” You playfully threatened.
“You don’t mean it.” He tilted his head at you. You cracked a smile.
On the walk home, he kept calling you various nicknames – all flowers.
That day became a cherished memory of the past as the two of you weaved your way into proper adulthood. And the nicknames followed; he went through the whole flower alphabet, even the bizarrely named ones, even the Latin root names. When he wanted to annoy you, he’d call you prunus subgenus cerasus.
Now Gojo fusses around the living room of his tiny Tokyo apartment, preparing food for a little boy of the name Megumi. The day is full and busy, but any second he can get with you, he relishes.
“My tulip, 'gimme a kiss.” He asks.
“Come get it.” You tease.
“Ew.” Megumi grimaces, hearing this exchange right as he walks into the kitchen. He walks right back out.
“Gumi, get back here, food is almost ready.” Gojo calls after him, then leans down to try and kiss you but you playfully dodge him.
It always happens like that – he asks for a kiss, you refuse jokingly, he chases after you for a kiss and you scamper away. Like a running joke that’s a callback to your past.
“C’mere, you – ” he finally snatches you up, too needy for a kiss to play around anymore. “Stay right there and let me kiss you.”
He enjoys every second of kissing you, embracing you tight like he’s never letting go. Just like when he first kissed you, Gojo cups the back of your neck and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It has you breathless, gasping – he’s so alluring that you shudder.
“Satoru!” you scold, “The food will get cold…” you excuse.
“Okay, okay. But you owe me extra kisses tonight.” He winks.
“You’ll have to get them out of me yourself.” You tease.
“Oh, I will, don’t you worry. I’ll take every little kiss I can.” He says determinedly.
He pecks at your lips, savoring the sound and feeling of the act.
“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, and walks out the kitchen just as he walks in like earlier.
“Gumi! Food! Sit-your-silly-butt-and-eat! You rascal you.” Gojo lifts him by the armpits, and tickles him like a real dad.
Megumi is poker-faced at the tickling.
“Y/n, tell Gojo he’s being annoying.”
“Husband, you’re being annoying.” You murmur up at Gojo.
“Am I?” he smiles down at you, giving you another cheeky peck.
Megumi sighs.
“Stop spyin’ and start eating, little lotus.” Gojo threatens playfully.
“Dad. Save the flower nicknames for Y/n.” Megumi scrunches his nose up.
Gojo's face lit up. “Okay, okay. Enjoy eating, I'm gonna go see where she went off to.”
He hurried into the bedroom where you had wandered into and excitedly whisper-shouted “He called me dad!” he gushed like he was the happiest man alive.
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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reiderwriter · 9 months
Note
Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️
Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.
My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!
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It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.
But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.
You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.
Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.
You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.
You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.
You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.
“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.
When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.
On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.
You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.
–X–
It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.
You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.
But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.
It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.
The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.
Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.
–X–
It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.
Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.
You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.
You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.
Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.
You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.
“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.
You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.
“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.
“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.
“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.
–X–
It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.
It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.
Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.
“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.
He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.
It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.
“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”
“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.
“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.
“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”
“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.
“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”
–X–
For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.
You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.
You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.
“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.
“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”
“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.
“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.
“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.
“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.
“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.
“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.
The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.
Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.
“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.
And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.
He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.
“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.
“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.
“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.
“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.
“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.
“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.
“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.
“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”
“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.
“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.
“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.
“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”
“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”
You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.
“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.
“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.
“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.
“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.
“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.
He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.
It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.
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littlepetbee · 2 years
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whenever i see people say that they can’t ship jukebox because there’s such a ‘visible age gap’ i have to push my granny glasses up on the bridge of my nose and squint at my laptop screen trying to figure out which one of these infants apparently looks ‘’’’grown’’’’
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incorrectbatfam · 9 months
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Wayne Tower yelp reviews pls (wrong answers ofc)
★★★☆☆ Disappointed but not surprised
Was invited to the Wayne Gala held at the Tower this year to accommodate special guests from the Justice League. Was photographed by reporter Clark Kent. Wanted to meet Superman but he didn't show up. Food and atmosphere was good. Got told off for swinging from the chandelier. Why have a chandelier if not for swinging?
★☆☆☆☆ Not even gonna dignify it with a title
I'd give zero stars if I could. The CEO is a massive fucking asshole. He's full of nothing but smooth-brained takes. He claims he'll be there when you need him but never shows up. And when you RIGHTFULLY resent him, he'll turn around and pretend YOU are the bad guy. That isn't even touching on his AUDACITY to replace you so soon after you leave. You think you know this man, you think you've grown to trust him, and then he goes and stabs you in the back. Believe me when I say RUN. Get as FAR away from this company and that bastard Bruce Wayne as you possibly can.
★★☆☆☆ SOS
I work here. Too many emails. Half the execs are Boomers who can't export a PDF. The break room is out of coffee. My dad won't stop visiting the office. When will the nightmare end???
★★★★☆ Imperfect but respectable
I had the opportunity to visit Wayne Tower on Bring Your Child To Work Day. The building is up to code and I was able to view all the health code certifications. I admire that Wayne Enterprises takes care of its employees by allowing ample vacation time, in-house daycare, and well-maintained recreation spaces. The cafeteria did not have as many vegetarian options as I would have preferred, but I have been informed that they operate on a rotating menu, so I shall revisit again next week and possibly amend my review. I would leave five stars but I ran into Tim Drake on the way out and that brought the whole experience down a notch.
★☆☆☆☆ No Chipotle
Was told there was a Chipotle here. Did not find Chipotle.
★★★☆☆ Badge entry didn't work
I'm on the night shift at the company's call center. One time I was already running late but for some reason I couldn't badge in. The janitor wouldn't let me through even though I had proof I was supposed to be here. Had to escalate to the CEO. Still better than working the Batburger drive-thru though.
★★★★★ Hi Dad
Hi Dad.
★★★★☆ Good but...
I love the bathrooms. They're easy to find and very accessible for a wheelchair user like myself. There's plenty of space for me to navigate and the products are top-notch, especially the hot towels. The toaster oven under the sink also doesn't make sense, but then again, my lockscreen is Nightwing so I can't judge.
★★☆☆☆ No cats allowed
I got written permission from the CEO himself to bring my cat to the office, but the doorman turned me away. Next time, there should be better communication between the employees.
★★★★☆ Rooftop makes for good date
I brought my girlfriend up here for our anniversary date. The building has a beautiful view of the city and the restaurant was great. The bread was a little dry, but nothing that a little butter couldn't fix. Unfortunately, she's an on-call detective and we had to cut our evening short, but that's not the staff's fault.
★☆☆☆☆ Got called Bri'ish
Someone called me Bri'ish.
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