#I WAS CURSING MYSELF THAT IT'S A LOSE PITY

[nyashykyunnie]

DAN HENG MY HUSBAND/WIFE IS HOME HOLY SHIT

[complicit-rot]

i haven't been this social & talkative in Years someone drag me out back

[puckinghischier]

Suds n Sorrows

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader comforting nico after losing the last game of the season

notes: y’all i kinda love this one 🤭. me being a cancer, i’m patiently waiting for the day i can nurture and comfort nico. that’s all. hope you enjoy !!

request: Nico coming home after that last game of the season and obviously he really needs some cheering up from his girl.

(also, i used google translate for any german present in this fic, so if its wrong, oopsies)

[2.9k]

part 2 (18+)

~

You already felt terrible you were having to miss the last game of the season, but as you watch the clock hit zero on the screen of the tv in front of you, signifying another Devil’s loss, you really wished you could be there. You think about how defeated your boys look, not being able to secure one last win for the fans this season. You watch as they skate to the middle of the ice, thanking their fans with rounded shoulders and sad smiles on their faces.

You curse your professors, hating that their review schedules for finals fell right in the middle of the end of the hockey season. You were supposed to be there tonight, supporting your friends and boyfriend; but a last-minute email from a professor informing you of a mandatory review session, starting only an hour before puck drop, threw your plans out the window.

You pick up your phone to send Nico a quick text, telling him you love him and are proud of him no matter what. You know he won’t see it right away, with post-game interviews and the added responsibility of fan-appreciation activities, he won’t be home for another hour or two at the earliest. You turn the tv off, not wanting to see the dejected looks from the team any longer.

You go to the kitchen and start to busy yourself by making one of Nico’s favorite treats, wanting to give him something to smile about when he gets home. You make plans in your head to either make something or order something to take to the rest of the team tomorrow during their locker cleanout. Once you’ve finished the task at hand and cleaned the kitchen, you make your way back into the living room, figuring Nico will be home any minute.

You were scrolling through Instagram, lost in the comments on the Devil’s most recent post about the fans, when you heard the front door to your apartment open. You sat up, turning your body to face the entry way, watching Nico walk towards you. He dropped his bag as he reached the couch, wordlessly flopping down beside you, throwing his body half on top of yours. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the comforting scent of your perfume, squeezing your body against his own.

“I’m so proud of you,” is the first thing you said to him, taking the beanie off of his head so you can run your fingers through his hair.

“Nothin’ to be proud of, Schatz. We lost. Didn’t you see?” You feel him mumble against your skin.

“Hey, now. No more pity party, alright? You still went out there and gave it everything you had. I’ll always be proud of you, win or lose,” you scold, hating when he doesn’t give himself credit for all the work he puts in for this team.

“Just wish we could’ve won one last one. For the fans. For the guys. For Jack.”

“How is he, by the way? You heard anything?” You ask about the middle Hughes, knowing how upset Nico was he wouldn’t be finishing the season with the rest of the team.

“Yeah, talked to him before the game. Sore, but good. Already trying to weasel his way back onto the ice, but Ellen has him under house arrest.”

You chuckle, causing Nico’s body to shake with yours, knowing how stubborn Jack can be.

“I swear, if he doesn’t just let himself rest and heal I’ll fly out to Michigan myself to babysit him,” you tell your boyfriend, earning a laugh in response.

The conversation falls silent soon after, the two of you just soaking in each other’s company. You had adjusted your bodies so Nico was fully laying on you now, one hand continuing to play with his hair, the other lightly tracing shapes up and down his back. You worry he’s fallen asleep until you feel him lift his head, resting his chin on your chest so he can look up at your face.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask him, looking down at his soft, sad eyes.

“Not much to say. We lost. The game, the season, the cup. We just didn’t perform this year. Got a lot to work on going forward,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes.

“Okay, when I asked if you wanted to talk about it, I didn’t mean give me locker room answers. I meant, do you want to talk about why you’re being so hard on yourself? Why you’re acting like you won’t ever play hockey again? I know how hard this is on you all, especially after the season you guys had last year, but not every year is a stellar year, Neeks. Sometimes you have to have a bad season before you know how to have a great one,” you pushed him off of you slightly, both of you sitting up so you can face each other.

“I know we can’t be great every year, Y/N, but I at least expected us to do as well as we did last year. Coming off of such an explosive season, even though we didn’t win the cup, I figured everyone would show up ready to go, ready to win some games. And then then everyone started getting injured, and the longer the season went on, something shifted. It’s like they gave up before we even got started. It’s like they didn’t even want it anymore!” Nico cries out, letting himself get worked up.

You simply nod, encouraging him to keep going, knowing he needs to get it out of his system.

“I just-“ he hesitates, calming himself from his outburst mere seconds ago. “I worry about who’ll be coming back next season. I like this team. I love these guys like they’re my brothers, and I wanted better for so many of them. Nothing is ever guaranteed in the league, and I just want to keep playing with this team. Tonight could’ve been the last time I ever stepped onto that ice with a few of them.” He continues, emotion so raw on his face you almost want to cry for him.

There it was. The real reason he’s so upset. You knew this was more than just a loss, even if it was a hard one. He hardly ever comes home and just allows the two of you to sit in silence, always going over what they could’ve done better, and what they need to work on in the future. He’s upset about losing his team. Nico always gets so attached to his players, wanting to give every person he plays with the best guidance and outcomes he can. You figure its why they made him captain.

“Oh Neeks,” you start, reaching out to grab his hands. “These guys love you, you know that, right? They want to do their best for you, always. You think they don’t beat themselves up for letting you down?” you pause, wanting your words to truly reach him. “But…you know this is always a possibility. Trades get made, contracts expire. It’s just part of the world you signed up for. I can guarantee you, nearly every one of these guys would come back next year if it was up to them. They love this team just like you do,” you reiterate, having been told this by his teammates more times than you can count. “You gave them everything you could this season. I can assure you, not a single player left that arena tonight thinking of what you could’ve done differently, instead focusing on what they could’ve done differently.”

Nico sat for a second, absorbing your words. He takes his hands from yours to place his head in them, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Wenn es nur so einfach wäre,” you hear the foreign words muffled by the sound of his hands.

“Neeks, you know I’m learning, but I have no clue what you just said,” you chuckle slightly, not knowing if he’s even aware of the language switch.

“I said, if only it was that easy. I know you’re right, I do. But I just can’t make my brain hear the words the way my ears do,” he sighs.

You look at the man in front of you with sad eyes. You wish you could carry some of this burden for him, but you can’t. At the end of the day, you don’t know what it’s like to be the captain of a hockey team. You don’t know the full extent of the pressure not only his coaches place on him, but the team management, as well.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you coo sadly, reaching out to cup his face, his own sad, brown eyes looking into yours. “Why don’t we just relax for the rest of the night, yeah? I was thinking about a bath earlier, if you wanted to join me? I’ll add some of that bubble bath you like. The one that smells like oranges and raspberries?” You question, deciding you’d talked enough hockey tonight.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agrees, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You lean forward to give him a small peck on his forehead before standing and making your way to the bathroom.

You make sure the temperature of the water isn’t too hot, but still wanting it to be warm enough to soothe the ache not only in Nico’s muscles, but the ache in his chest, too. You decide to light a few candles, wanting to make the space as relaxing for him as possible. The bathroom door opens as you’re lighting the last candle, Nico having already discarded most of his clothing, standing before you only in his boxers.

He closes the door behind him, walking fully into the bathroom and leaning against the counter next to you. You set the candle away from anything that could potentially catch fire, and walk over to Nico. You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against his bare chest.

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, trying to transfer every ounce of love you have for the man through the contact. Eventually he pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulder before cocking an eyebrow, eyes raking down your body at your still fully clothed figure.

“Shouldn’t you have much less clothing on if we’re meant to be taking a bath together, Schatz?” he asks, the teasing in his voice a nice change from earlier.

“Are you trying to get me naked, cap?” you try to act shocked, but you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out on your face.

“Always, Mrs. cap,” he cheekily responds, using his teammates’ nickname for you.

You step back with a giggle, undressing yourself as Nico removes what little clothing he had on. After you walk over to turn the bathroom light off, the two of you step into the steaming tub, settling into a comfortable position. Your back rests against Nico’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, his clasped hands resting on your stomach. He begins tracing shapes on your stomach like you were on his back a few minutes ago, letting the warm water heat your skin and wash the stress of the day away.

“You know, even though I’m sad the season’s over, it does mean I get to spend more time with you now,” Nico breaks the silence, head tilted to rest against yours.

You hum in response, smiling at the thought of no more early morning alarms or late-night interruptions when he gets home from a roadie. You daydream about lazy mornings and breakfast in bed, something the two of you don’t get to indulge in nearly enough. You open your eyes, the thought reminding you of the treat you made Nico before his arrival home, nearly forgetting about the baked good sitting in your kitchen.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I baked you a little something before you got home!” you sat up a bit, water splashing around you.

“You did? What ever for?” Nico asks, eyes widening a bit at your sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“Just because. Knew you had a hard day, wanted to make sure you had something sweet to brighten it up a bit,” you shrugged.

“Not necessary. Not with the promise of getting to come home to you already.”

Your cheeks flush red, never really getting used to the sweet words Nico always throws your way.

“Well, I guess you don’t want any Luzerner….Luzerner…Leb…” You start, but can’t remember how to pronounce the Swiss dessert. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, aggravated with yourself and your lack of fluency in Swiss-German.

“Luzerner Lebkuchen?” Nico finished for you.

“Yeah…that.” You roll your eyes at his perfect pronunciation.

“You really made it for me? From scratch?”

“Mhmm. Used your mom’s recipe. I hope it turned out. I didn’t want to cut into it to try it before you got home. Wanted to surprise you.”

Nico’s heart swelled at the confession, amazed that you’d go through all of that effort just for him. It wasn’t an easy dish to perfect, by no means. It took his mom years to get her gingerbread cake perfectly moist and flavorful. Regardless of how it tastes, he’ll savor it like it’s the last food on earth, simply because you made it for him.

“Well consider me surprised,” Nico murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.

You love moments like these. Lost in Nico, the two of you in your own little world. No hockey, no schoolwork, no responsibilities. Just two people hopelessly in love with each other, soaking in every ounce of affection the other has to offer.

Nico runs his hand down your back, causing your body to shiver at the contact. He pulls you closer, his other hand coming to tangle itself in your hair, tugging just enough to cause your mouth to open in a gasp, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fight one another, his winning the struggle for dominance in the end, a groan working its way out of his throat. When he starts to move his hand lower down your back, grabbing the flesh of your ass in the process, you pull back, lips swollen and out of breath.

“Nope. Slow your roll, hot stuff. This was meant to be a relaxing bath, not a sex and suds party,” you push him back by the shoulders, earning a pout from the man across from you.

“But, a sex and suds party sounds pretty relaxing to me. No better way to unwind after a hard day than watching your face as I make you cu-“

“Nope! Not happening right now! Keep it up and it won’t be happening at all tonight,” You warn, turning back around to resume your earlier position, hands resting over his on your stomach to keep them from wandering.

Nico laughs, finding amusement in your commitment to the relaxing bath you promised him. He places a kiss to your temple, deciding to leave it alone for now, knowing he’ll revisit the subject later.

The two of you sit in the warm tub until the water runs cold, talking about anything that crosses your minds. From your upcoming finals to summer destinations you’d love to visit, the security of your bubble filled world allowing no room for hockey talk or stressful situations to infiltrate the delicate space.

After you start shivering, having put up with the cold water for as long as you could, Nico reaches forward to drain the tub, deciding that its time the two of you get out and dry off. You step out of the tub, reaching for the towels you had placed on the closed lid of the toilet seat, grabbing one for yourself before handing one to Nico. The two of you dry off your bodies, no sound other than the draining tub in the room. You look over to Nico, towel wrapped around his waist, and admire the man you love. You love him for so much more than his physique, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the cherry on top of the already perfect soul before you.

Before he catches you staring and gets anymore ideas, you look away and wrap your own towel around your body, trying to shield yourself from the cool air on your damp skin.

“Thank you, Schatz,” Nico breaks the silence, causing you to look up at him, noticing he had closed the distance between the two of you, reaching out to place a piece of hair behind your ear, hand falling to your cheek.

“For what?”

“For always being here when I need someone. For always knowing exactly what I need, even before I do. For being you,” he states, referencing the many times you’ve been his sanity after days like today, always managing to take his mind off of his troubles and filling his head with thoughts of you, instead.

“Always,” you turn your head, placing a kiss on his palm before placing your cheek back against his palm, flashing Nico one of your loving smiles.

“Now, what about digging into that cake I made you? It’s not going to eat itself, you know?” you perk up, wanting to find out if you efforts paid off or not.

“Oh, I have a different kind of dessert I’d rather dig into, if you don’t mind,” Nico smirks, watching your eyes widen as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at your squeal as he heads towards the door of the bathroom, ready to savor his sweet treat.

[deviouz]

. . . jason todd and villain!reader !!

jason todd who opts to neutralize villain!reader himself rather than turning you in to the authorities because each time he does, you slip through the cracks of a crumbling justice system just to wreck havoc on the city the next night.

“you just don’t know how to stop, do you? can’t learn a lesson? fine. i’ll just have to teach you myself.”

jason todd who decides to back villain!reader to a corner, all of her gadgets and fancy tech smashed to hell in the dingy room of an abandoned building. he looks bigger than you’d imagine at this close of proximity, head tipped down to no doubt glare you down from behind that stoic, vermillion mask of his.

it’s pointless to even try fighting back. the red hood wasn’t someone you wanted to have up close and personal — and, unfortunately for you, he was close enough for the faint smell of his cologne to flood your senses.

“you’ve left me with no choice, really. it’s almost like you wanted to get caught by me. again. god, do you even sleep?”

jason todd who forces your front to the wall, face uncomfortably pressed into the aged brick wall. he has your arms twisted behind his back, wrists caught in one of his hands, while his knee slots between your leather-clad thighs. the smirk he wore was almost audible. the sound of your curses and empty-threats began to echo throughout the room, but that all came to a sudden halt when a rough hand grabbed at your hips and began to force you back and forth against his thigh. those venom-laced words transformed to quiet, breathy moans and feather-light gasps.

if you had your knife, you would have plunged it in him the second the faux coos started.

“that’s it. if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

jason todd who makes you work for a sweet release. why would he let gotham’s newest villainess off so easily, especially after the hell you’ve been putting him through? no, you have to work for it. he’ll deny release after release, whispering a plethora of filthy, degrading words into your ear until you finally give in.

“fuck, you’re soaked. dripping cunt’s got my suit all dirty,” jason almost laughs at the pitiful moan that rips through your chest, “we can do this all night, sweetheart.”

and when you finally give in, sobbing and hiccup because you just can’t take another denial in fear of losing your mind, he’ll allow you to use his thigh however you see fit. of course, all of that mindless grinding and high pitched moans of pure ecstasy are sure to be made fun of. you’re that desperate to get off on your supposed enemy’s thigh? really?

jason todd who grins when you slump to the ground, thighs pressed tightly together as you pant, body quivering. you’re an absolute mess, and he’s finally got you right where he wants you. pliant and obedient.

“c’mon, you don’t seriously think that’s all i had planned, right?”

[profound-mystery]

Somewhat Shakespearian version of the Leitner rant

I was bored, I was studying Macbeth, have at it.

Jurgen Leitner? 

Knotty pated fool, hellish dog Jurgen Leitner, Damned fool, foul keeper of pages that dost grow grey and dark with collecting dust, the books though slower than he, aged rodent made of fruit unfathered, vassal wretch. Lascivious slave, twas said before: “the harder knife ill used doth lose his edge.” A motley dost thou makest of thyself, driven with humourless pity, foul thief Jurgen Leitner.

Shame not my flame when I do speak of Jurgen Leitner, to him, I have but disdain. What purpose does he serve to eagerly misuse cursed scrolls, would he have but meddled less in affairs which to him ought to be hidden, yet with his newfound vulgar scandal he but sets them free into the world! Is he standing still past his own death-knell? Hath he been unfathered? The man's bastard shame doth vex me, and shame, to which mine eyes have out of their spheres been fitted to which anger defines him to me. Never have I had the misfortune to upon his face set my eyes, and yet not are mine ears with his tongue’s tune delighted.

Were I to ascend past my knell, and see heaven's eyes in mine own with knowledge of his presence bestowed, I would, while God was smiling in my face, defile him at the door for the sole purpose of removing myself when heaven now ranks of worse essays.

Must I be exposed to the passion of his scanted knowledge, I shall have no choice but to spite the memory of him, and start anew, purely to run past when his name is mentioned to me.

I know not why, by him, my hairs doth unfix themselves, and stand ready at the thought. He merely keeps scrolls, I am raged with the trespass of his presence!

His errors, one on another's neck, must be explained, perhaps by the ghost of the past, for if he is without reason for his sins then I shall be enraged.

His errors must be born of pages, driven to blaspheme for if not his work then I.

paypal.com/JurgenLeitnerIbeshrew

Not even the focus is he, merely alluded to scrolls in his keeping and I was driven with madness.

He escapes me now, and if his corpse is not yet buried, I shall pray for his demise.

Crusty batch of nature…

I should merely blow air in his direction, and his frail body would implode at the very strength, and he would disintegrate before me to ashes until nothing beside remains save for a single scroll he kept on his person for dire emergencies, titled simply “Now, thou hast made a mistake” in ancient yiddish.

How now, I barely breathe through my wrath.

I hope on his deathbed I am privy to the time, so I shall be able to set upon my calendar a reminder.

Through every winter, I shall be granted a day to rejoice and contemplate respect for all but the man who kept such cursed scrolls.

[augusgus]

touch yourself (m.)

Being Sukuna's vessel isn't easy. Even less so if he's decided to take advantage of it - to his great pleasure and your humiliation.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x vessel fem!reader

tags: forced masturbation(?), a bit of degradation, corruption kink, sadistic sukuna (are we surprised), dacryphilia, oral sex, ruined orgasm, a tiny bit of spit play

You could hear his snicker even before you felt your cheek moving from Sukuna's sneer.

"What a lewd woman..." His voice was dripping with self-satisfaction, the kind that made you want to strangle him. Him and his damned influence over you.

Another wave of heat rushed through your body, this one stronger than the ones before, and a strangled whimper escaped your lips. Damn it, damn it, damn him. You were burning up and at this point it took everything in you to keep it together.

A knowing chuckle. "Why so shy?" There was a dark, cajoling tint to his whisper that sent involuntary shivers down your spine. "Or, perhaps, are you a filthy liar? Is that how it is? My, how scandalous!"

"T-that's rich coming from you, curse."

You were breathing heavily, fingers gripping your pillow with white knuckles. It hadn't been long since you had woken up from your body going into overdrive but it was already become too much to handle. Slowly, tantalisingly. It was mortifying to say the least, slowly losing control over yourself like that.

And Sukuna, being the source of your problem, was eating it right up.

You could feel the mouth on your cheek stretch impossibly to an even wider grin. "I would never deny myself pleasure, woman. I always take what I desire."

"Explains w-why you're such an ass," you quipped back.

You knew your response was weak. But you couldn't think clearly anymore - every drag of fabric against your skin, every shift of your fingers against the pillow was sending tingles up your neck and lighting up sparks in your brain.

His voice seemed closer to your ear now as he drawled, so sardonically, so humiliatingly smug, "you know, your perverted cunt is much more honest than you, woman. It's been dripping the whole time."

Wincing, you closed your eyes in shame as if that would make everything disappear. It wasn't for the first time that you wished to have never become a vessel for this demon, to have never given Sukuna the opportunity to touch the most vulnerable parts of your innermost and pick you apart by the seams with sadistic enjoyment. He was stripping you from your decency, dragging away layer by layer until he had you naked and cornered and cowering exactly the way he wanted you to.

You felt watched when your fingers slowly, almost involuntarily, travelled down your body - and in a sense you were indeed. Gleeful eyes, all over, drinking in this horrible humiliation that not even your lust-induced haze could block out... And that small part in yourself that actually took pleasure from this exploitation of your weakness - you started to hate that you have been made aware of its existence.

A gasp left your lips when your nails caught on one of your nipples, the slight touch alone enough to have a gush of wetness pooling between your legs. Sukuna's mouth laughed and the sheer proximity of the harsh sound made your head spin.

"Hah! Are you crying, woman?" He taunted. "D'you think that I'd take pity on you?"

"I'm n-not..." You hadn't noticed it before but tears had started to gather in your eyes. The realisation only made them well up more, salty liquid running down your cheek and landing on his tongue.

He laughed louder, a hint of madness vibrating in his sadistic excitement. "Yes, yes, this is it!! Lose yourself! Get even more desperate... You're a whore, behave like one!" You could feel his arousal brimming under your skin, dark and sticky, mixing with your own lust.

"You're such...an...asshole..." The insult lacked the usual spite. Forming words felt much too difficult all of a sudden.

If he had any regard for anyone other than himself, he would have stopped here, left you intact. He still would have had you hanging by the last threads of your pride, of your morals, but you'd be able to shrug it off as a moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment.

But Sukuna had never cared for the thing called restraint.

"Touch yourself, woman." He was playing with you, cruel in how his voice made it sound like an inevitable order. "Show me just how shameful you are, getting off on fingering your perverted cunt with a cursed spirit possessing your body. Show off how much you crave this!"

The moment the pads of your fingers pressed into the covered folds of your pussy, you couldn't breathe. The pleasure was all-consuming and the bit of relief that came with it made you momentarily forget about the guilt. "S'good..." the whine forced itself between your lips but you didn't have it in you anymore to care.

It felt so good... and yet the ache only seemed to grow stronger.

"Still not enough, huh." You could hear the grin, feel the movement right next to your ear, "what a slut."

And then white flashed before your eyes when something strong pushed against your entrance - Sukuna's mouth having opened on your palm instead, hot tongue licking a fat stripe up to your clit.

"Ah-hhhah...?!" there was no softness to his ministrations, no rhythm to make it easier for you to adjust. Whatever he decided to give to you, you had to take it. It was almost too much, balancing on the fine line between overwhelming and mind-numbing.

You had no control over the sounds you made anymore, over your muscles, and without thinking you pushed harder against your own hand, pressing the palm flat against your sticky folds to have better access to him. To have him closer, reach deeper.

Little sounds of "ah. Ah. Ah" filled the room and combined with the squelches from your dripping juices and his saliva. Sukuna laughed against your clothed core before biting along your outer lips, then slowly sliding his teeth over your clit - just gentle enough that the sensation had you squeezing your thighs even harder around your hand and trapping it effectively. With a scoff he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing circles into it with the tip of his tongue until you couldn't stop shaking.

Your orgasm wasn't far, the denial you've put yourself through having put your body in an even more vulnerable state. The coil was steadily tightening, growing in intensity until you could almost taste it on your tongue. A little more, just a little-

All contact vanished. Nothing, apart from your wet panties clinging to your folds. Gone was the pressure, lingering warmth all that was left. And still, in the last moment the slight shift of fabric made you tip over the edge.

You came but it didn't feel like an orgasm.

New tears welled up in your eyes as you realised, this was so unfair. So unfair. You could still feel the awaited pleasure brimming right underneath your skin, could feel it retracting without having given you any of the relief.

"Did ya really think you deserve to cum?" He was mocking you - his mouth back on your cheek letting a trail of spit run down his tongue and in between your own opened lips. It tasted like yourself.

Almost as if a dam had broken, you cried even more - desperation to cum, really cum, taking a hold of you. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou..." your pussy was pulsating around nothing, your body having been tricked into an empty orgasm, but the lust was still right there. Heat pooling in where you thought to be your womb. You needed it, needed him. So bad.

"Come on, you can do better than that," Sukuna drawled. "Beg. Say it, say my name."

"Scream who it is you're letting yourself be fucked by."

[orgasming-caterpillar]

Formula One: The Curse Of The Prancing Horse

There is something so inherently poetic about Ferrari— all the glory behind it's name, the decades of history behind the logo— and it's failures. The sheer splendor of decades worth of building its name to what it is, only to be stuck a step behind from greatness. Too close to rest, to far to push.

And yet, no matter how much they lose, it's still the dream of every young man stepping foot on the grounds of Formula One. It is the Formula One dream. The deep devotion that drives anyone with a Ferrari badge on his chest, the blind faith despite every blow. It's larger than a religion. A cult.

Because even in all its misery, Ferrari is Formula One.

Time after time, we have another spectacular driver who's won it all and won it again, coming to Ferrari in hopes of winning it all with a legacy to support. This deadly hope in the heart of every driver coming to Ferrari that "I'll be the one to change things. I'll be the one to give them back their glory." It happens over and over again because a martyr that does not die lives to create more like him.

It's a cut that always bleeds because not only do you lose your lustre and yourself in the process, you watch another young driver take your place and go through it all over again. Do you think the past drivers look at Charles and pity him? Do you think they warned him? Do they understand the feeling of losing yourself in the process of finding glory for the prancing horse? Do you think charles will feel the same about whatever rookie joins him in the coming years?

Because it's Charles' relationship with Ferrari that's the most poetic of them all. Every race weekend he gives his body and soul to the team, and this team— they don't know what to do with it. It’s all very Renaissance, bold reds and religious zealotry. He’s a walking tragedy. He knows how to suffer and does it well — he was raised Catholic, even if he doesn’t acknowledge God anymore. He acknowledged misery and that's close enough to God.

Charles knows what's wrong with Ferrari. Over the years, he's become well familiar with how they break you, but he no longer cares. Not when occasional glory is poured down his throat like white hot nectar. It burns, but the blisters too are rosso corsa, the colour of prestige.

He says "If this is a cage then I'd like to be kept in a cage my entire life." As if he thinks he has a choice. As if he has it in him to make the choice. He won't change being Il Predestinato in red to being Charles Leclerc in any other color. He was born for rosso corsa.

He says "At times I have not been merciful towards myself" but oh sweet boy was it ever your choice to make? This is what the prancing horse does to those who put a saddle on him.

They call him Il Predestinato, but for what? Predestined for what, glory? Ha, no. Predestined to be the next sacrificial lamb, is what they mean. Predestined to stand on the altar ringed with fire, bearing a prophecy that hovers its fingers over his heart, digging its nails into the warm flesh the longer he is unable to fulfill it.

And it's how we watch it all unfold. How we watch driver after driver sacrifice himself to the team, the team sacrifice him to victory and Victory's satiated sigh at the taste of winning blood before doing what she wishes. It's poetic— all the blood spilled with no respite.

It's the cycle of misery, the curse of the prancing horse.

Ferrari will forever be red on the canvas of history because it is stained by the blood of the heroes that tried to save it.

[fireflyinks]

karaoke and cowboy hats

colt seavers x costume designer/manager!reader

there will be multiple parts, this is part one !!

a/n : so so so much fun to write, and probably one of my longest and favorite fics i’ve ever written. i love colt and ryan gosling, and tried to add as many easter eggs from “the fall guy” as possible

summary : colt always seems to be misplacing his costumes pieces, which has him constantly coming back to the costume manager and designer, y/n. the two decide to hang out for once outside of set.

contains: this is just purely fluff and good vibes, no smut, cursing, “will they, won’t they”, part two will have more romance dw

word count : 3.7k

Working with Tom Ryder was one of the most difficult tasks one could be assigned. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and overall just a complete asshole. I had the misfortune of being the costume designer and manager for the up and coming film “Metalstorm”, and Jody, the director, insisted on the most cliché cowboy get ups imaginable, plus a gold metallic touch. Having worked with Ryder many times previously, I knew he would hate this. I had prepared myself for one of his meltdowns long before it actually happened, but it still somehow caught me off guard.

“What the fuck is this?” He stormed into the costume tent, causing me to jump up from my seat in panic.

“Ryder... Jody insisted you wear this.”

Ryder looked down at his attire in utter disgust. “Don’t try to blame anybody but yourself. This is your fault. Are you trying to embarrass me? Do you have some personal vendetta? I’ve never even worked with you before!”

It stung that he didn’t even recognize me from our previous jobs together, but I tried to ignore it. Looking at Ryder’s get-up, he didn’t even look half bad. The gold metallic suit went great with his complexion, and the cowboy hat added a charming touch. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“You have to wear it. It’s not an option. This is your costume.” I tried to act brave, as if his harsh voice didn’t effect me one bit.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m going to be caught dead wearing this. Say goodbye to your job, nobody speaks to me like that. I’m Tom god-damned Ryder.”

The tent’s entrance opened, revealing a very angry Colt.

Colt and I were sort of close, as close as most coworkers get. I didn’t think we’d never hang out outside of set, but I considered him sort of an ally. When he wasn’t performing a dangerous stunt, he’d talk to me about whatever was on his mind and listen to me ramble on and on.

“Just leave her alone, Ryder. She’s not here for you to bitch at.”

It would be hard to deny the fact that I had a small crush on Colt. He was everything I could want; charming, tall, handsome. But in those moments, as he defended me, I could feel it turning to a major crush.

Anger pulsed through him as he walked over to Ryder. I’d actually never seen him so pissed off before. Colt, the easy going, overly sweet, fall guy, was bowing up on Tom Ryder.

I could tell Ryder wanted to say something back, but instead he bit his tongue as he strutted past Colt, making sure to bump shoulders with him on the way out.

Colt shook his head, making eye contact with me. He had a sorry expression on his face, genuine pity for me.

“Ignore him. Ryder’s a jackass.”

I giggled, “That’s an understatement.”

He chuckled, “Anyways, do you have any extra hats? I somehow managed to lose mine, and I already have some stunts I need to do.”

Colt nervously twiddled his thumbs, embarrassed of his clumsiness. It was our third day on set, and he’d already misplaced his hat.

I nodded, smiling. Colt was always losing his props and costume pieces in previous projects we’d worked together in, so I’d remembered to bring extras. Turning around to reach into the bucket of hats, I pulled one out and handed it to him.

“Thanks. And again, just don’t let Ryder get to you. I know you’ve worked with him before, but don’t take anything he says personally, okay? If he gives you any problems, just let me know, alright?”

It wasn’t surprising that Colt remembered me from past projects, but it still felt nice in contrast to Ryder’s forgetfulness.

I nodded, smiling. “Thanks Colt, I really appreciate that.”

My cheeks burned a light crimson shade, and I tilted my head down, hoping he didn’t notice.

As he walked out of the tent, I added “Let me know if you need another hat or anything. I brought extras just for you.”

Colt looked back at me, smirking. “I will definitely need another one, thanks sweetheart.”

The simple nickname made my head spin. Yep, this is definitely a major crush.

—

By day five of filming, Ryder had become okay with his costume. Well, maybe not okay, but definitely impartial. Perhaps because his ego had realized how ridiculously good the suit made him look, or maybe Colt had spoken to him alone about the matter.

Part of me hoped it was the latter.

My job as costume designer and manager was really simple; fix and replace shit all the time. Especially Colt’s shit. When day six rolled around, he had lost three hats, his metallic jacket, and somehow a singular shoe. I’m not kidding, he had stumbled into the costume tent, peg footed, hobbling on the shoe he’d managed to keep. I didn’t mind though. In fact, Colt was one of the few people that actually visited me in the tent, instead of walking in, grabbing their belongings, and quickly walking out, not saying a word or acknowledging my existence. Colt’s visits slowly became one of the only things I looked forward to during filming.

On day twelve, when Colt came in to the tent without a cowboy hat once again, I mustered up the courage to ask him the one thing I never thought I’d be able to ask.

“Do you want to hang out sometime. You know, just me and you? Outside of set.”

The sides of his mouth quirked up. “I’d love that actually. But I do have one request.”

I furrowed my brows, listening intently. “If me and you go out, you have to wear a cowboy hat.”

My mouth dropped open in protest, but he argued on. “You’ve seen me in these stupid things so many times, too many times to count. I’m completely and utterly embarrassed. Maybe I want to see you sporting your southern spirit for once.”

“I’m from Wisconsin!” I giggled, shaking my head rapidly. “I am not wearing one of these things in public.”

Colt rolled his eyes, “Fine, but you have to wear one around set for the rest of filming. Deal?”

I sighed, remembering that I barely ever exit my tent other than at lunch time and when leaving set for the day. “Deal.”

“Karaoke, seven, tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

Colt turned to leave, and I grabbed his shoulder, pausing him.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, yeah.” Colt chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. We exchanged numbers, and he laughed at the excessive amount of repetitive digits in mine.

“And I’m expecting our deal to begin right now.” He said, glancing at the bucket of hats behind me. I sighed, picking one out and placing it upon my head.

“Happy?” I asked, holding out spirit fingers beside me.

Colt beamed, “Perfect.”

He turned and left the tent, and I pulled out my phone and began to update Colt’s contact name, only to sigh and pocket my phone again. Apple somehow doesn’t have a cowboy hat emoji.

—

When my Uber lazily pulled up to the karaoke bar, anxiety pooled in my stomach all at once. I shouldn’t have been this nervous, and I knew I was making this out to be something that it wasn’t. A date.

But what exactly was I supposed to think of this as? Hangouts happen at people’s houses, dates happen at bars. Plus it didn’t help that it was Colt and I alone. I look down at the sun dress that I donned, running my hands down the skirt. This wasn’t too formal, right?

I stepped out of the black car, thanking the half asleep driver, and walked toward the bar. I opened the door and automatically spotted Colt sitting by himself, drinking a small, lean glass of something colorful. The bar wasn’t exactly packed, but it wasn’t empty either. Numerous people danced around as a man in a orange and green polka dot button up did a bad rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance”.

Making my way towards him, the anxiety filled my stomach even higher.

“Hey.” I said nervously, sitting down beside him.

Colt looked at me, examining my attire. “You look great.”

I blushed, shrugging. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

I wasn’t too keen on getting drunk because we still had to go to set in the morning and the last thing I wanted Colt Seavers to see was me throwing up in a bush, but a drink or two couldn’t hurt.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure,” I grabbed the bartender’s attention, “Can I please get a margarita?” She nodded, scrambling to assemble the cocktail.

“So I’m guessing you don’t drink much?” Colt asked, his lips in a sly smirk.

“What makes you say that?”

I chuckled, drinking the last of what I assume what his first drink and ordering another. I then learned the bright liquid was a sunset on ice.

“Well you ordered the most basic drink known to mankind. I mean, at least make it spicy.”

I guess that was true, but I didn’t like experimenting with my orders much. I didn’t enjoy drinking much in general due to the effects it would have on me later.

“I like what I like.” I shrugged, thanking the bartender as she handed me the margarita.

We sat in silence for a moment, until Colt turned to me. “So, what are we singing?”

I coughed into my drink. I hadn’t even thought of what I was going to sing yet.

“Funny of you to assume were doing a duet.” I said slyly, playing off the fact that I was trying to pull a song out of my ass.

Colt raised his eye brows. “Okay, then go and serenade me.”

I nodded at him, walking over to the DJ and requesting “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. Once Polka Dots was done singing his heart out, the adrenaline had kicked in and I felt as if I ruled the world. Or maybe I just wanted to rule Colt’s world.

The small crowd clapped along as I sang, and I say Colt’s smile through the audience every time I tried to execute one of the runs in the song.

Afterwards, I walked over to him, slightly embarrassed but also proud. “How’d I do?”

His face was covered in amusement. “It was... entertaining.”

I giggled, punching his arm lightly. “You’re the one who told me to ‘sport my southern spirit’!”

He sighed, shaking his head sarcastically. “The cowboy had would’ve made it complete. You missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I think I’ll live. Now it’s your turn!”

I motioned towards the DJ booth, and he stood up turning back for a split second to wink at me.

I was expecting something silly. Maybe Total Eclipse of the Heart, or Sweet Caroline. I was terribly wrong.

By the time the first notes blared out of the speakers, I knew I was doomed.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

It’s like he’d searched my brain, found my favorite love song of all time, and decided he was going to make me fall in love with him by singing it.

His voice wasn’t perfect. There were parts that were off key and shaky, but the bigger picture was beautiful. I never thought I could fall in love with someone in a karaoke bar.

Once he was done, my shoulders dropped and the tension left my body. It had been so unexpected, the tune had snuck up on me and now I felt head over heels to the man who had sung it. I wasn’t the only one who loved it, the crowd was going crazy.

“How’d I do?” Colt asked me, sipping the drink that had been waiting for him. This had to have been his third drink, and I could tell he was tipsy from the way he spoke.

“It was great.” I wanted to scream ‘It was amazing! It was perfect! Please marry me!’ But thankfully I did not.

“‘Glad you liked it.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I got the guts to ask.

“Why that song?”

Colt hummed, as if asking me to repeat my question.

“Why’d you pick that song?”

He grinned to himself before shrugging. “I just like the song, I guess. It’s one of my favorites.”

It could’ve been my habit of overthinking and examining everything to the smallest detail, or it could’ve been the psychology course that I took in college and obsessively studied over for months, but Colt’s excessive blinking in those moments told me there was a good chance he was lying to me.

Why would he lie over a song?

“It’s one of my favorites too.” I smiled. I’d find out why he lied to me later.

Colt grinned to himself in satisfaction.

We sat there for another hour, and Colt drank two more tequila sunrises, which meant I was now his designated driver.

At about nine, I decided it was time to leave.

“Colt, I’m gonna give you a ride home, okay?”

Colt nodded dizzily.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, here.” He clumsily handed me his keys, almost missing my hand. I stiffened a laugh. “Diane! Close out my tab, please.” The waitress handed him his card quickly.

We stood up, beginning to leave, when Colt turned back to the bartender. “Thank you, Diane, those drinks were great.”

I waved goodbye to Diane as well, reading the “Amy” on her name tag with a smile.

I got him into the car slowly, and began driving him home.

“Hey, y/n?”

I hummed, waiting to hear what he was about to say. Chances are it would be something ridiculous, and I was all here for it.

“You’re really pretty. Have you ever been told that?”

I blushed, and prayed the dark car shadowed me enough for him not to see.

“A time or two. Thank you, Colt.”

He leaned the passenger seat back, and I thought for a moment that he would go to sleep.

“Where are you staying?”

He turned his head to me, and shrugged. “Can we just go to yours?”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Colt Seavers, in my small temporary apartment that I was providing to stay in during the time we’d be filming. It wasn’t a mess since I’d only been staying in there for about two weeks, but it definitely wasn’t guest ready.

“Sure, why not?” I fumbled with my phone, pulling up my GPS app and getting directions to the apartment.

“Can I tell you something, y/n?”

I nodded slowly, ignoring the way my stomach felt when he said my name.

“I actually didn’t lose all of those hats.”

What?

I furrowed my eyebrows, whipping my head to look at him. “Then why’d you keep getting new ones from me?”

He hiccuped, smirking. “I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

If my face was a crimson shade before, it was a tomato now. I felt bad, like I was using Colt’s drunken state to get answers out of him.

“Did you like my song?” He looked over at me, waiting for my answer intensely.

My lips quirked up into a soft smile. “I did. ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ is actually one of my favorite songs.”

This made him giddy. He giggled like a school girl, and then stiffened a laugh myself.

“I know.” Colt said under his breath.

So he did know.

“How’d you know?” I pressed Colt for answers. I knew that if he found out he’d told me any of this while drunk, he’d be mortified, but I just couldn’t help my curiosity.

“I heard you listening to it one day on set. I was outside of your tent, about to come in to tell you that I’d lost another hat, but I stopped and listened for a while. You were singing along, and you sounded so good. That’s why I wanted to sing a duet with you.”

At this point, I’m the color of a fire truck.

We pulled up to the apartment, and I unbuckled, getting out. I walked over to Colt’s door and opened it for him.

“Very chivalrous, thank you my lady.”

I giggled, helping his wobbly frame out of the car. “You’re welcome kind gentleman.”

We walked into the apartment building, making our way up a flight of stairs. Well, I made my way up them, Colt tripped over himself with each new stair until he made it to the top. At one point, he almost fell all the way down them, and dragged me down by my arm with him, but he managed to catch himself.

I brought him to my room, closing the door behind him. It was small, the kitchen and lounging room directly next to one another, separated by no wall. There was a door that led to the bedroom with a bathroom connected.

Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed a plastic cup form the cupboard and filled it with water. I handed it to Colt, who turned his nose up at it like I were trying to feed him poison.

“You have to drink water or you’ll regret it in the morning, Colt. You still have to go in for filming, remember?”

He sighed, taking the cup from me and drinking it all at once. “I’m starving.”

I thought for a moment about what he could possibly find to eat in the apartment. Nothing. I’d pretty much been eating take out since I arrived to Sydney.

“I’ll order a pizza.”

I pulled my wallet out of my purse on the kitchen counter. Colt shook his head, reaching in his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

“You got the drinks, Colt, it’s fine.” I insisted, grabbing my card.

Colt handed me his entire wallet, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I made you pay for it.” his drowsy eyes said otherwise, “Please, just let me.”

I sighed, taking his wallet from him, “Thank you.” I said under my breath.

Colt only winked at me, lazily walking to the couch and plopping himself on it.

I ordered the pizza, assuming he liked pepperoni because who doesn’t like pepperoni?

I sat down beside him on the couch once I was finished. He was flipping through the different options on Netflix, his face was focused intently to find something.

Colt Seavers was on my couch. Well not necessarily my couch since the apartment was only being rented for me, but you get the point. We were on the couch together, tryin to find a movie to watch with pizza on the way. This realization made my cheeks feel hot once again.

“Here we go.” Colt chuckled as he clicked on the block buster film “Bad Cop, Good Dog” starring the one and only Tom Ryder.

“Get him off the screen, I might puke.” I giggled, attempting to grab the remote from him. Colt held it as far away as his much longer arms could manage, and I gave up.

“This is such a horrible film.” Colt told me, his eyes laser focused on the screen still.

“Then why are we watching it?”

Colt thought for a moment. “The way he talked to you the other day isn’t anything new. I’ve seen him talk to pretty much every one on every set we worked on together just like that. I just couldn’t always save them like I did you. It’s easy to think he’s some big, powerful guy, but in reality, he’s a pussy.”

I stayed silent for a moment. It felt nice, knowing that he still cared so deeply about the way Ryder had treated me.

“That’s nice and all, but it still doesn’t explain why exactly were watching this.”

Colt shrugged, “Oh, I just like making fun of him. We can watch something else if you want to.”

I snatched the remote from him, “Please.”

After a few more minutes of searching, I decided on the 1998 classic “The Parent Trap”.

“This movie never made any sense to me.” Colt crossed his arms as the movie started.

“Why?”

“Well, first off, what judge arranged this custody system? I mean seriously, how did both parents just up and leave with one kid?” He slurred so horribly that I had to fight a laugh as he spoke.

“It’s just a movie.” There are a few movies that I would defend with my life, this is definitely one of them.

“You can’t just use that as an excuse. Just because it’s a movie doesn’t mean it’s allowed to just defy all logic.”

“Colt,” I turned to face him, “You are working on a sci-if space cowboy movie with aliens. I think that makes the parent trap sound pretty reasonable.”

Colt chuckled, “Touché.”

My heart fluttered as I looked at Colt, lazily snuggled into my couch.

There was a knock at the door and I hopped up, walking through the kitchen and dodging Colt’s wallet, grabbing mine instead.

I paid for the pizza and brought it in, met with the sight of an extremely hungry Colt waiting impatiently at the counter.

“You didn’t use my wallet.”

I sighed, putting mine back in my purse. “I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own things.”

Colt shook his head. “You’re absolutely kicking my ass at the chivalry game.”

Grabbing a slice of pizza, I went back to the living room. Colt followed quickly behind me, and we got about one-fourth through the movie before I could tell Colt was getting extremely tired.

I got up, and went to my room, grabbing a blanket and a pillow.

“Here.” I handed them to him. Colt smiled up at me gratefully.

“Thanks.” He made himself comfortable, before leaning back and closing his eyes. The couch wasn’t very small, which was surprising since the apartment was so compact. This is why I didn’t feel bad about having him sleep on the couch. He didn’t complain either.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled, drifting off.

I smirked at him, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water to place beside the couch. I also grabbed the bathroom’s trash can. He was going to have a terrible hangover.

“Goodnight Colt.”

I had gotten a date with Colt Seavers for the small price of humiliating myself in a southern style for the rest of filming. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.

Or maybe it wasn’t date and I was delusional, but Colt ended up sleeping on my couch, which is pretty sweet if you ask me.

[solsta23]

One of my biggest (and I’m sure most commonly shared) fantasies is being chased through the woods, specifically for me it’s being chased by someone who kidnapped me and is making me play some sick version of hide n seek.

If I manage to hide before time runs out, they’ll let me go, but if they find me before time runs out…(CW: blood, cnc)

“Found you!”, They’d announce, a sick satisfaction in their voice as if they’d found the last egg in the Easter hunt. My heart pounded deep in my chest, blood rushing in my ears as my chest moved rapidly up and down in erratic movements, the frosty night air biting at my lungs and making my eyes water from the sharp pain, the same pain radiating from the various cuts on my legs from the thick shrubbery surrounding us.

The pain kept me awake, made me oh so painfully aware of what was about to happen- looking up helplessly at the person who had been tormenting me for a week? weeks? I couldn’t remember, it honestly felt like months.

“Aww don’t look so upset baby, it’s not like you really stood a chance against me”, They told me, the faux pity in their voice continuing to make the burn under my skin worse as my eyes watered. “No reason to get yourself so worked up”.

They didn’t mean that, not one bit.

Seeing me worked up was their favorite sight (aside from me being under them), and I swore underneath their mask I could feel them smiling- knew they were smiling at me, smiling at the way I was shaking, my lack of proper clothing not helping (tank top and shorts was all they permitted me to wear, if anything at all) and how I was physically trying to bite back tears. I would never admit it out loud, but a part of my pride felt more hurt I lost than not escaping.

“Now cmon pup lets- oh dear”.

I didn’t give them time to finish, managing to pick up whatever strength I had left and getting up on my feet to run- one final attempt to get away.

‘Maybe I could lose them in the trees, they can’t know this place that well right? Just keep running don’t stop and don’t look back I can maybe slip through and find a road- there’s a road around here right? right?? Or-’

Before I knew it I was pinned to the ground, the dirt permeating my eyes and nose as I was shoved down, small rocks threatening to break through my skin and an all too familiar heavy weight on top of me.

“Now pup, what was that supposed to be?”, My tormentor laughed, pinning one of my arms to my back and straddling my back. “Seriously you made it what? 50 feet? I commend your effort- but seriously what made you think that was smart?”.

“G-get off of me!”, I screamed, wiggling like a fish on a line as struggled beneath them. My free hand clawed at the dirt, trying to grab onto anything to free myself, ignoring the stabbing pains that spreads up my arm like wildfire, flailing and kicking my legs out to throw them off- anything to be free and all of it for nought.

They scoffed, barely even breaking a sweat to hold me down, “Pup this is cute and all- but you know you already lost right?”.

“I don’t care! Just shut up and get the hell off of me you fucking psycho!”, I shrieked, hating how I could feel the tears being to stream down my face. I was so tired and frustrated I didn’t care what I said anymore.

“I hate you! I’m not your pup or your baby you sicko!”, I cursed, feeling lightheaded. In my anger filled rant I barely noticed that they hadn’t tried to interrupt me, hadn’t tried to say anything or even make a sound. Just let me keep ranting and hanging myself with my own tongue.

“I hate you! I hate you and this stupid game, you’ve done nothing but play out your sick fantasy with me you fucking loner freak- ah!”.

Before I knew it my face meet the dirt again, a sharp pain in the back of my skull as a hand threaded through my curls and forced me face down. At that moment I realized I messed up, my body giving up on me as I felt my kidnapper sigh, their grip on my pinned arm tightening to the point I felt it would break- making me whimper. My tears stained the dirt as I felt blood trickle in my mouth, my lip split from being forcefully shoved.

A silence passed by for a brief moment, the wind picking up as I felt my heart pound, and at that moment I all but froze as a voice cut through the air.

“…You really don’t know when to shut the fuck up do you, pup?”.

There is like…more to this so I’ll post a part 2 tmrw because this was getting too long guys 😞😞 but hope you like this (I’m just a feral lesbian who needs to be hunted down)

[popponn]

something about headaches. [floyd leech x reader]

note: i miss twst. and this eel. so i make a quick thing in one sitting without much thought. i just miss floyd and kind of want to write something healing for myself. also: prefect!gn!reader and concussion is there.

“Sensei!” Floyd Leech exclaimed with cheer in his voice, meanwhile you hung limply in his arms like a dying mandrake. “Shrimpy hit their head again! I’m taking them to the nurse, ‘kay?”

From the distance, Coach Vargas answered him with something you couldn’t understand. Your head throbbed and you groaned. The possibility of someone putting a curse on your face to attract wild, fast flying things suddenly became something more than Deuce’s random musings.

You began to consider actually asking Crowley for check up—but not before you had your whole body shaken up with a loud “Yay!” resounding from above you.

As Floyd started running and turned you into a sack of flour on his shoulder, you started praying to whichever astral beings still had pity left to spare for you. Faintly, you could hear your upperclassmen chirping happily about getting to run around with you and such. Your head was buzzing loudly, but you managed to catch some of them.

“How lucky! Where should we go, Shrimpy?” Floyd said and you wished you could laughed like always whilst ushering him into the nurse office.

“This is fun!” Floyd said and you wished you could agree. Perhaps, on another time, without concussion slowly draining on you.

“Senpai, I will die. For real. Slow down. Please,” you, finally feeling like you might die for real, chocked out as you hit Floyd’s back lightly.

Then, the eel suddenly drew to a stop. The loose, strong hand he had around your waist grew firmer and you wondered if you will get squeezed or thrown out of the second floor balcony there and then. “Eh, why?” Floyd’s voice took a dip in the exact manner whenever he started losing interest.

At this point, best case scenario would be him putting you down and leaving.

Nonetheless, you tried to answer him. “’M head hurts. A lot,” you worded out choppily. Breathing was getting harder. Perhaps you really were dying. Good Seven—overblots and monsters and what got you was a fucking flying disk—

“Head hurts, huh…?” Floyd parroted and maybe you spoke to fast and it would be an eel that got you, actually. “What did Jade said again…? Oh!”

“…hu—uuh!?”

Within a second, suddenly you got manhandled for the second time to the point of getting a bit of your spirit returning again. It took you another three seconds, however, to realize that your position had changed into being carried like a bride in your senior’s hands, who opted to walk slowly at that moment.

“That’s a funny sound, Shrimpy. Make more of it later,” Floyd commented, a wide smile hovering right above you along with his voice that had turned into a whisper. “Is this better? Jade said loud voice and getting hanged upside down make your head hurt lots. And I don’t like walking fast when my head hurts too. Feels better now, right?”

You blinked, trying to register the fact that instead of getting thrown away like a nosy mangy cat, Floyd acted like a straight out sweetheart. Your heart made a weird beat that you couldn’t process yet, but you managed a weak nod for him.

“He he,” Floyd’s smile grew wider. This was stupid, however you did felt that being hit in the head was not that bad, maybe.

“Can I pat your head?” you blurted out, your head growing heavier with each second. Along with it, perhaps, your logic was also drowning.

Without your blurry eyes catching them, Floyd’s expression wrote his amusement clear in his face. “Eh, Shrimpy sure asks a lot for a patient,” he chided childishly. Then, he lowered his head slightly to you without stopping his steps, “Here you go. Pat it, pat it.”

You chuckled breathlessly and softly as your fingers touched his head, “Thank you, Floyd-senpai. I will treat you to something later.”

“Aha—treats from Shrimpy?” Floyd cheered in a tone that hid something behind it. You should have paid more attention to it, but as you leaned your head against his chest, you decided you would just do it later. “Lucky! Get well soon then, ‘kay, Shrimpy?”

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun

Previously known as In Times Of Flaring: Here is the official Part one to the series! You can also find it on AO3 I finally made an account!

Take Me To The Sun (846 words) by leftmeinwonderland

The quadrant is in chaos. Finding out who is alive, who we all lost - and all I can think about is they aren’t back. He isn’t back. 

I wish I could comfort you, flare. Rathnait whispers to me, and for a moment I feel guilty that I feel so out of sorts for not being able to focus on shielding my emotions from her. Her talons tick nervously on the flight field, vigilant over my every move and breath. All I can do is stare at my dragon vacantly. Streaks of dark copper highlighted her grace, her beauty - running down the length of her neck and down each of her legs. Rathnait was a sight to behold, and I was only grateful to be considered worthy to be hers. Her scarlett colored scales glistened in the setting sun, as if mirroring the sun itself in all its bright glory. Her swordtail flicked in the air back and forth in agitation. We must not get ahead of ourselves, you would feel it if something happened to him. 

I reach out to clutch her nose to my chest, needing to feel the warmth of her breath on my clammy self. She nudges me gently, trying all she can to ground my spiraling thoughts. 

I can’t help but think of the moments I last saw him - the fight, the anger. 

****

“Xaden is already bending the rules with bringing Violet along, I can’t ask him to risk your well being as well,” Garrick murmurs in my ear as we watch the tense showdown between Dain and Xaden. I try to ignore the sting in my chest, having to wrinkle my nose to rid myself of unshed tears. 

“You're not even gonna try, after everything? You just expect me to watch you go? You’ve been keeping secrets, Garrick. This seems like part of one of them” I hiss at him, shrugging my arm away from his hold. Rathnait glowers at both Garrick and Chradh, his brown scorpion tail - the irritation she feels at watching me get hurt is almost enough to make her snap her teeth at them both. Garrick’s jaw clenches, his ever composed features faltering at the anguish I knew he could see in my eyes, could hear in my voice. 

Just say the word, flare. I’ll teach him to treat you with more care. Rathnait snarls at Chradh, snapping as he tries to nudge her affectionately. I don’t want to put her in an uncomfortable position, to push away her growing care for Chradh. You let me worry about that. Chradh knows you are the one I chose, the one I will always look out for.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish we had time to talk more, but right now I would rather know you’re safe with the rest of your squad. Your anger towards me is worth it if I am guaranteed your survival,” I watch as he makes sure his flight gloves are secure, flexing them before flickering those earth toned eyes towards me. My heart cracks a little bit more - all I want to do is scream. To shove him and get him to see that this is hurting me, is crushing me. How much more can I let slide? How much more can I take when all I want is to want him. To love him.

“And what about you? What if you don’t come back?” 

Xaden and Violet make their way towards their dragons. Squads have begun to launch to their respective posts, Dain and I are being waited upon by Second Squad. 

“I’ve survived too much to lose now. I’ll be back and we can talk - I’ll tell you everything,” Garrick promises, stepping forward to plant a soft kiss on my temple. Clutching his flight jacket, I can’t help it as tears fall down my cheeks. 

“It seems like you might lose me though,” Turning around to follow my Squad leader, ignoring the curses from Garrick, ignoring the way in which my Squad watches me with grimaces and pity. All for fucking War Games, all for nothing. 

I make my way towards the group, needing the familiar, needing their constant. Ridoc opens his arms, bringing me in for a brief tight embrace. Sawyer offers a wavering smile.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Rhiannon softly asks, wiping my wet cheeks with her hands. I shakily smile at her, making sure my own flight jacket and gloves are secure. I can’t bare to watch Garrick and Chradh take to the sky, having to believe that he’ll be ok, but at the same time wanting to protect myself from more heartbreak. 

“Let’s go get this over with.” I quickly scale up Rathnait, she chuffs at me, making sure I’m secure in my seat. Let’s go flying, Ray. Take me towards the sun. Sending my devotion to her down our bond. She launches quickly, wings flaring gloriously. The rest of the squad is quick to follow. 

I’ll always make sure you’re near it, flare. The light will never die in you, not even from this pain. 

[diorcities]

nabi

pairing: lee donghyuck x afab!reader. content: smut, angst. miscommunication trope, exes to lovers, manipulation, toxic relationship, jealousy, college au, mention of jisung, mention of jaemin, mention of mark. hand job, shower sex (kinda) riding, angry sex, slight bondage, softdom!haechan, rough sex, edging, unprotected sex. wc: 6.8k. playing: 21 gracie abrams ;; somebody else the 1975 ;; white ferrari frank ocean ;; hostage billie eilish ;; there you are zayn ;; people libianca x becky g ;; la la lost you 88rising x niki ;; style taylor swift. an: thanks for reading <33

you missed his 23rd birthday.

as you listen to your roommate rummaging through her bedroom drawers, your eyes wander to the phone screen. fingers floating on the keyboard, half a sentence written, before you end up deleting it. the shower you have taken has not served to remove the thoughts that swarm in your head.

emily comes out of her room just as you block the phone, shooting you a look. “so, what are we thinking?” she asks, appearing around the doorway, taking a leisurely turn that allows you to see her outfit. “perfect,” you just say. emily huffs, “i hope so,” she informs, rolling her eyes at something that crosses her mind. then look at you again. “are you sure you don't want to come? i mean, it's a saturday night,” she says, and for a second, a hint of pity crosses her features. “i'm fine, ems,” you say, “i'll make myself some wine and devour a marathon of how to get away with murder.”

emily narrows her eyes. maybe her idea of ​​saturday night is very different from yours, but in the end, she decides to give up. you listen to her heels become more and more inaudible until it is only silence and you.

you fall into bed touchless. looking at the ceiling contemplating your decisions. the sweet torture of maybes and perhaps invades you until you decide to shake them away like an annoying mosquito and head toward the kitchen. emily has taken the wine. you stare at the nearly empty fridge, cursing for declining the offer to get drunk until you lose consciousness and wallow with some handsome guy. your saturday can't be going worse.

a half-empty bottle of vodka lies on the fridge door, and you examine your chances and possibilities. there is always the option of going for liquor at 12 in the morning at the nearest supply, but honestly, you don't feel like doing it. so the bottle will suffice. not enough to get you drunk but enough to dull the chest pain that has been oppressing you since last night came to an end, and you find yourself collecting stars on the ceiling of your room while imagining him having fun with his friends, going out to a party, enjoying without you. maybe finding a girl and falling in love again, while you can't move on, pathetic, trapped, and sunk in the melancholy that memories of when he was with you bring to the surface. from when he loved you.

when it chimes 3 in the morning, you can't take it anymore. the bottle of vodka has run out even before its time, and your head feels light, so light that you feel like you can float. you change into used jeans and a sweatshirt before heading for the exit, but stop and think better of it, approaching the bathroom. the reflection is pitiful, fixing it is almost useless but you still try. feeling that no effort will give results, looking again in the mirror and looking the same or even worse. you give up very quickly, and by the time you want to rethink it again, you find yourself on the street.

a thousand and one thoughts swarm in your head. random images appear like shooting stars across your vision, are you crying? you do not know. the lethargy of the liquor does not let you think clearly. yes, you can blame it on that, when you find yourself in front of the mahogany door of his apartment. knuckles suspended in the air, debating. to go or to stay. the heaviness settles in the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are twenty again. a younger you, smiling, having friends, enjoying fleeting youth. finding love, falling in love, a guy with a blurry face smiles at you until his features harden, and you don't know why. suddenly the shell rises. and you feel like breaking his heart, but he's breaking yours. you don't know anything other than the unknown and dangerous feeling that consumes you, so you decide to end it before it finishes you. and you never look back.

but now you do. and there is no return from this point when your hands finally touch the wood. noises are heard from the other side, and you freeze. footsteps are heard in crescendo and a chill runs down your spine. the door opens, and suddenly all the words you know are gone.

donghyuck looks at you without revealing any emotion. shocked maybe? he doesn't say anything for an eternity, or a minute, no one knows. drinking in the presence of the other, assuring you that it is real. “hello.” your mouth feels dry, and swallowing is useless. “yn…” says your name, and you go back in the past when pronouncing your name caused warmth in your stomach. now the only thing that causes you is gagging. the guilt sits in your stomach, and it's unpleasant. “forgive me.” the prayer leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and a sob accompanies it. you see donghyuck suppresses a pitying frown before your vision blurs. you muffle the sound with the exterior of your hand, unable to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling his touch on your shoulders, slide down your back and draw you in. but not toward him. restlessness makes your mind have a lucid moment, suddenly observing his dark hair fall on his forehead, soaked, with small beads of water falling to the ground. you realize that he is entirely naked, except for the towel around his waist. “shit, i'm sorry.” there are no traces of the nostalgia to see him again, now replaced by the shame of having interrupted him while he was bathing. perhaps he expected it to be someone else, considering that he must have interrupted his bath to answer the door. “don't be,” he murmurs, modestly.

“not seriously. i must have interrupted you.”

“i was almost done.”

again, the silence begins to grow between your bodies, taking more and more space in the small room of their apartment, suffocating any opportunity to prevent it.

“did you expect…?”

“are you okay?” you talk at the same time. “of course,” you lie, and he nods. “how about you?” questions. “i'm doing fine,” he answers simply. you watch his fingers comb his wet hair out of sight, revealing that she looked at you first.

but you're not feeling well, are you? you haven't been well for a long time, but you've managed to avoid thinking about it because if you did, you'd say confessions that won't go anywhere. that they will be lost somewhere in his mind and that they would not make any change. talking won't improve anything.

so you're not okay. you haven't been since you didn't have him, but saying so would be selfish, and you care more that he is, because today is his birthday, and the thought of knowing that he's feeling horrible completely breaks you. “donghyuck…” the words burn in your throat, “don't say anything,” he begs, “it's okay,” he assures, but you shake his head. i didn't know you wanted me there, so i didn't go," you finished.

the confession hangs in the air, weighing, debating.

“it's okay,” he reassures, “you're here now, you don't have to apologize anymore.” and although forgiveness was supposed to give you a truce, it ends up making you feel worse. it eats you up inside, like a black hole that devours everything in its path. feeding on the dark places, until there is nothing left but an empty shell. donghyuck drags you to the surface as his icy hands hover over yours, and you look back in thanks. his eyes seem to say “you're welcome” when he looks at you.

and you can't help it.

you kiss him.

his cold hands begin to acclimate to your warmth as they run over your arms and back. fervent. unable to leave them alone. your fingers are buried in his wet hair, a sigh falling from his lips when you caress his nape. devouring the existence of the other, hungry tongues wanting to savor the other, the feeling of not having enough until you cannot melt your bodies...

donghyuck directs your steps blindly. his mouth still on yours. his soft lips being bitten and caressed by your tongue, the little sounds he lets loose dying in your throat. your back hits a hard surface, drawing you a surprised gasp. the reaction only causes the collision of your tongues when they meet, melting your insides and taking your breath away. you move away to catch your breath, even caressing the boy's hair, who wastes no time running his tongue around your neck. your hands travel to his bare, slightly damp shoulders, before sliding down her veiny arms, and back up.

his face hides in the crook of your neck, sucking and kissing your skin, releasing a thousand explosives into your senses, before his hands separate you from the wall and take you with him to his room. your shoes are lost somewhere along the way, your sweatshirt is stripped from your body by his hands, breaking the kiss only to remove it over your head, before attacking your mouth again.

your hands run over the smooth skin of his chest and back, letting yourself be carried away by him while you kiss him with the same fervor as he does. “let me…” your eyes open when you no longer feel movement, and your feet stop on the cold surface of the tiles. his eyes flicker between yours and your waist. your gaze moves down, where her body is hidden only by a towel wrapped around her waist. you nod, dry-mouthed, finally looking up at him. giving him the permission he shouldn't ask for. leaving chaste kisses on your mouth while his hands go towards your pants, and yours towards his, helping him to remove the garment, which falls heavily on the floor.

the kiss deepens as his hands wrap around your waist, circling his thumbs, working his way down to your butt, feeling the skin, squeezing.

your hands go to the cloth that covers his masculinity, stopping you momentarily, as donghyuck pushes you against him. you feel the bulge in your lower belly, pressing against the towel. donghyuck makes you press against him, letting out a strangled groan. you swear that your interior tightens. foreheads brushing as your hands finally undo the towel from her waist, and her hands slide your underwear down, both falling to the floor, taking a backseat. his hand goes up your back, until it finds the clasp of your bra, taking it off with an agile movement, while all his attention is on your mouth.

his hands run through your body carelessly, as if all his judgment had been removed along with the towel on the floor, leaving only the primitive and lustful desire inhibited by his morality. taking your chest in his hand while another does not allow you to move away from his body, resting on your butt. leaving all the control of the kiss in you, the way you want it to be, how long you want it to be, how deep and violent can be.

pushing his hip against you, stimulating his erection against your stomach. “shall we go back to the shower?” he questions between kisses his eyes remain closed, and something inside you stirs because you fear that he does not want to look at you. hiding from your gaze, he presses you against himself. “yeah.” his voice is hoarse and guilt-ridden. and yet knowing it, you can't just walk away and leave it. you can not. because you are selfish.

your lips attack his neck while he detaches himself from your body to open the shower and regulate the temperature. when he comes back to you, he pins you against the wall and kisses you, as if the episode from a while ago hadn't happened. you caress her temples and pull away. “are you okay?” you ask. his lips leave little kisses on your wrists. “of course.” his eyes finally look at you. there is nothing more in them than warmth.

“are you okay with me here?” you want to ask. will he say yes? will he be quiet? you want to know if he wants you with the same intensity that you want him. if the ghost of you still remains in him like his ghost in you, tormenting you every second you spend without being with him. is he okay here with you? you hope so from the way he kisses you and moans, that he thought of you at least once while he was with someone else.

and it's the only thing that matters. not the selfish being, or the most horrible person in the world. or feel like shit for knowing that the one who put you in this situation was yourself. that asking you if he wants you there with him is totally your fault, and that both of you feel miserable is caused by you. but it does not matter. while kissing you, your mind forgets everything. there is no room for the suffering that oppresses your chest, the guilt that eats you inside each time there are these encounters, the emptiness that lets you know that you are no longer his. without realizing it, you are crying. but donghyuck doesn't realize it; the shower hides the tears, and your sobs turn to moans as his leg settles between yours, moving it against your core.

you grind against him in a swing of the hips. your hands down his chest to his stomach, where his cock hits goosebumps. encircling your hand the length of it, you move up and down his member, stopping at the tip to touch it. donghyuck grits his teeth at the sensitivity, but doesn't ask you to stop. his hand goes to your hips to move more enthusiastically on his smooth thigh. the subtle movement makes you gasp, moving your hand in time with his movements. stopping without warning and replacing his leg with his fingers, nimble and careful, making you moan with each movement. stirring in sync with his fingers but not getting enough of him. “let me stretch you out a bit, mmm?” he whispers. his fingers send lightning bolts throughout your bloodstream. blood heating up, heart beating faster. your eyes flutter at the precise movements of his digits, knowing exactly where to touch, what place makes you moan, what place makes you close your eyes, what place makes you clench your legs because the sensation overwhelms you.

your hand works with pauses on his cock due to the effect he has on you, and you know how frustrating it must be feeling not to be able to concentrate, so you move his body away from you. “only you,” you say, catching your breath and beginning to long for his touch. you see him frown in disagreement and open his mouth to retort, but you stop him.

“i want to make you feel good.”

“okay.” his lips come back to yours, but this time, his hands remain on your hip. your fingers wrap around his penis, beginning to pound the length with great care. his neck is exposed as his head is pulled back, lips letting out guttural sounds as you fuck him with your hand. eyes devouring his expressions, his angular features contracting with pleasure, eyes narrowed by the incredible sensation of your hands working on his cock. your gaze moves to his cock. of a reddish tone and with pearls of precum in the cleft. and you find yourself fantasizing about running your tongue down the length, tasting it, getting it into your mouth. but you don't; it's too intimate. and it's not up to you to do it.

“what's going through your mind?” donghyuck wants to know. his eyes seek yours through the curtain of tears. your hands work faster and he seems to forget for a moment, letting out a moan that sounds like longing to you. “shit,” he says, finding your mouth and kissing it with wild excitement. “oh…o—oh fuck, nabi, don't stop.” your hand working fervently on his cock, with circular movements at the tip, occasionally brushing the slit with drops of pre-cum. donghyuck lets out another guttural moan before he cums into your hand. thick and hot semen, which bathes your hand and falls almost immediately on the tiles. watching him narrow his eyes when your hands linger longer on him, knowing exactly when to stop. donghyuck hisses at the sharp sensation coursing through his penis as your movements slow and stop.

you finish bathing and drying off as if the minutes were running out, as if the fire of desire could be extinguished now that they have come far.

his body is sprawled on the edge of the mattress, wide eyes watching every move you make as you climb onto him. kisses are left everywhere, stomach, arms, breasts, chest, neck, jaw, but never on your lips. kissing the skin of his temple, feeling him direct his member towards your pussy, already longing for him. slipping like silk from how wet you are. feeling it fill you inside, pleasantly. “o—oh,” you groan. the sensation overwhelms all your senses, making it impossible to contain the swing of your hips. donghyuck throws his head back, eyes closing and mouth parting to let out moans and gasps, feeling his penis being engulfed by the gummy walls of your tight pussy, hearing the sounds of your cunt sloshing every time their hips come together, every time you collide with him.

rhythmic and enveloping movements, moans intertwining in the hot air generated by your bodies on fire. consumed by desire drowned out by unspoken words. just letting yourself be carried away by the fiery feeling you feel for each other from day one.

donghyuck feels so good inside you that you can't help but speed up your thrusts. take it all sight blurring and darkening with the desire to see him demolish under your body. feel a tingling in the stomach knowing that it is you who has put him like that. a mess, a bunch of grunts and broken words. his hips meeting yours from time to time, unable to contain himself, wanting more of you, to feel full. hands gripping skin, pushing you against him when the sensation is overwhelming and clouding your senses. “shit, hyuck.” your face contracts when you feel the knot tightening your insides.

uncontrollable gasps gush out of your mouth, followed by his name. again and again. fascinated by the way you look, fucking him, moving like that on top of him, looking so masterful and heavenly, his gaze darkens with desire and becomes heavy. “o-oh, yn. you're going to kill me.” your hips relentlessly rocking on his cock, hands locked behind your back as he decides to take over, and thrust into you, tensing your body as much as you can to hold still as he fucks you, so good. dropping you at the last second as you finally release yourself on top of him, collapsing in spasms as his movements become more jerky and clumsy, finally coming a second time. pulling his cock out and spilling his seed on the skin of your ass, feeling his hand milk his cock into you.

nothing is heard except your heavy breathing and the gear of your thoughts as you ponder what has just happened.

he leaves for a few seconds for his clothes, still together on the bathroom floor, and returns with a cloth that you use to clean his load from your skin. dressing without exchanging words. saying anything else as you leave. he doesn't stop you. and something breaks inside you because you let him go for the second time.

you don't know how you get to your building, but it's already dawn. the vodka hasn't been enough to get you drunk but to leave an annoying sharp pain somewhere in your head. you rub your eyes from not having slept at all, looking in your pockets for the key to the apartment, but it's not necessary.

jisung looks at you with slight surprise to see you there in the corridor. “we just arrived,” he says. you have never been close enough to greet each other or ask how the other has been. simple conversations that provide the required information. “i was walking around.” he nods, and you don't know if he believed you because you hardly know him. you see him around campus with his friends, and sometimes in the library, but you don't come over to say hi; you ignore each other's existence most of the time, except when he comes by from time to time for emily, but nothing more. you look at each other and decide that it is time to say goodbye, bowing your heads so slightly that there is hardly any movement. you walk into the apartment once you see him disappear down the elevator, ready to brush your teeth and head off to college in twenty minutes, but stopping when you feel emily's presence in the living room.

she makes no more noise than when she blows her snot. she's wearing a jacket you haven't seen her wear before, so you assume it belongs to the guy who left a few minutes ago. her silhouette is hunched over and she does not look at you despite knowing that you are there. you make threats to withdraw because clearly, you don't know how to comfort anyone, but her voice stops you. “he didn't even look at me. not once."

“i am sorry to hear that.” her gaze drifts from the carpeted floor to look at you. bloodshot eyes from crying until she had run out of another tear. “love suck, doesn't it? you seem to know that” she says, hinting how you never bring boys to the apartment like her. finally getting up from the couch, and coming over to you. you think, for a second, that she's going to hug you, so you freeze there, waiting for it to happen, but it doesn't. “love's not supposed to hurt. we have to let it go, right?” and even though your past actions led you exclusively to the opposite end of her words, you nod and agree with her.

yes, you have to know how to let go.

εїз

you rub your eyes and stare disoriented at the numbers shining on the phone screen. “hello?” you don't know who can possibly be calling you at this hour, still lethargic from your interrupted sleep, you look at the clock that marks two in the morning. “eh! yn.” emily's voice comes over the cell phone. “were you sleeping?” she asks, and even though you don't want to show your irritation, it comes naturally. “yes, emily. others like to sleep at two in the morning sometimes.” but she only laughs, revealing that she's drunk.

“jisung's with you?” you wonder, preoccupied. “no, i lost him. i borrowed a phone. hey! but since you're awake,” she says over the music. “can you check if i left my phone in my bedroom?”

“fuck no!” you complain, exhaling. “i have to get up early tomorrow, ems. i'm sure you can live a little without your phone.” you wait for a response, but she already hangs up.

you go back to bed, ready to fall asleep again but unable to do so. tossing and turning in bed, thinking about emily, worried that something might happen to her. you couldn't live knowing that something had occurred to her because of you. cursing as you get up and grab any piece of clothing within reach, before leaving for the party where she is.

at the time you arrive, it's four in the morning. another day without having proper sleep, accumulating sleepless nights like a collection of your own. passing through people you don't know and that you are sure you need to remember from classes you attend. you find jisung smoking with his friends, approaching him when you don't see emily around. “where is she?” you ask, seeing the smoke he let out of his mouth before answering, and even though he doesn't say it, you know he thinks you're so hypocritical. “probably inside.” you give him a last look before heading inside the house.

your eyes scan all the faces, looking for emily, but you don't find her. instead, you come across the mirage of a tattoo adorning the back of a boy's neck through the sea of people. with his back to you, he seems to be chatting with someone. and you can't physically stand there any longer. forgetting about emily for a moment, debating whether it's worth it or not.

you turn on your heels, jolting by a body colliding with yours, which shakes you out of your conjectures. you come out of your inertia ready to mumble an apology and get the hell out of there before he sees you, but you are stopped by his hand when it lands on your waist without warning. you look, surprised, stupefied, and annoyed at the boy who swigs a bottle of whiskey. taking a prolonged sip of the liquor while rocking his body from side to side, and consequently, yours as well.

then he looks at you, dumbfounded as you snatch the bottle from him and reach for it. the fire of the liquor runs down your throat and fuels the fire in your stomach, furrowing your eyebrows at the tingle it leaves on your tongue. the boy's clearly drunk, looking at you with awe when you stare at him from below, using his spare hand to grab your chin and smash his lips with yours.

and it's the first time, the weight on your chest is relieved. your mind is silenced, and you're just there, kissing a guy while the music plays through the club speakers. everything clicks for a moment, and you finally understand that you can move on. that there is calm after the storm. but you've spent so much time not knowing it, you've gotten used to it.

his mouth tastes like alcohol and something sweet. and you drown yourself in it, quieting your demons. remembering that you are young, and there is so much to experience. hoping you could stop feeling so miserable when you set foot outside, at the thought of rebuilding your life. that you can find something else. that the world is so big… and your thoughts can be so small, they're almost relevant.

but you can't help but open your eyes. and look at him, across the room. with his lips on the girl. but his eyes on you. you unwillingly break the kiss. “fuck, you're fun to kiss, yn.”

you're about to pass on it and go home. this was a bad idea. you can't do it. but you stop yourself.

because your name on his lips reminds you that you exist.

“how do you know my name?” you ask, stunned. the boy smiles. “science,” he mentions, though it sounds more like a question. an amused smile appears on his face as if he finds it funny that you don't remember him, “we see classes together.” you try to remember his face, in the classroom you deliberately ignore since you're ultimately in your head. “and we hooked up last semester.”

“i'm sorry,” you say, but that only makes me smile more.

“i could have expected it,” he replies, “you're way out of my league.” his confession jolts you out of your lethargy like a punch straight to the stomach. he takes the bottle from your hand and takes a swig, watching your reaction to that information. “you're like… halley's comet.”

“you're hardly ever around, but when you do show up, you're breathtaking,” he admits, even now, knowing you didn't put any effort into your image. even now, being a quarter of what you were before. even now, working at 5%, sunk to shit. he finds you special.

he takes your silence as an answer. his hand now caresses your chin, and you see him move closer. resting his lips on yours, he begins to kiss you. but it doesn't last long, because you break it. “i have to go.”

you curse yourself so much that you lose count. unaware of your surrounding and finding yourself in a pit (that you dig yourself) so deep that you forget what you have come for, rubbing your head because it looks like it is going to burst.

you don't see him approaching. he doesn't say a word, neither do you, when he drags you to his car. bodies colliding against the passenger sit door as his face comes closer.

“you should know by now. i don't share.” eyes amusingly glaring at your lips, part open due to shocked events. his words burning on his lips, marking itself on you. watching him breathe raggedly, his body pressing against yours, showing how angry he is. and yet… hands gently resting on your waist, before your body is dragged with his into the front seat of his car. “wait, what are you doing?” you ask him when he slams the door behind him and goes to the driver seat.

“not doing this with you, donghyuck.”

“you don't get to ignore me all year and then appear at my dorm on my birthday.”

“i thought that's what you wanted.”

“don't be a hypocrite.”

you stare at him with a stunned look. “am i the hypocrite? you are as much to blame as i am.” suddenly letting out the pressure on your chest. finally releasing the explosion that for weeks, months, and years has been taking your sleep away. “you did this to yourself,” he eventually says, and you swear something broke inside.

“you walked away, not me.”

“because you always ruin everything.” his words cut you like knives, and he can even believe he said them out loud, keeping them with him until he couldn't hold them anymore.

“you get scared and shut down because that's all you know: to destroy yourself and others,” he accuses, voice escalating in intensity. “you don't concede for a second that you can have anything good for yourself,” he reveals, finally, that you're not the only one who has suffered. “so all you do right now is ruin us.”

“there is no us,” you lie. “why, because i'm not good enough?” but you don't answer, you couldn't. because you never renounce each other. but your silence is taken as something else, something that you don't clear out because you're both interrupted. your phone rings and both pair of eyes glance at the unknown number, but you know who's calling.

“don't answer.” donghyuck voice is only a whisper, but you can sense what he hides underneath: a promise. but you do exactly the opposite, because you need to know. now that you're sincere with one another, there's no going back. but you can only make it if you know she's safe.

“ems, where are you?”

εїз

bodies crashing and stumbling into each other like a hurricane taking everything in its path. hands everywhere, grasping, holding as if the other would disappear if you didn't show each other enough affection. if you didn't show each other how much you wanted each other, how long you had repressed the urge for your mouths to finally come together.

there is no beginning or end. start or finish of where one ends and the other begins, as you devour your essence, tongues and teeth, sucking, sucking, biting. moans and gasp as the other kiss you just like you wanted, where you touch each other just where you need it. pressing your back at the door, without having stopped kissing since you arrived. but you have to tell him. you must or other way you think you might combust. the confession slips out from your lips in a whisper.

“i'm sorry.”

“i don't want to hear it, yn.” he breathes, chest rising and falling as he breathe erratically. “i missed you, i always will,” you reply, sensing him shake his head. “shut up.”

an eternity in each other's mouths, brushing against each other's bodies, grinding your hips together. showing how much he wants you under his jeans. feeling you damped your underwear just by how he's holding you close to him, as you'd run if he held you a little less aggressively.

your body is removed from the wall and forced to intertwine your legs at his hips as he gracefully lifts you off the ground. his firm hands on your ass trace small circles on your skin while his mouth attacks yours in a kiss that can ignite you if he so desires. “donghyuck.” you are deposited on the floor of his room, donghyuck's lips still on you as he takes off your pants and shirt, leaving you in your underwear. he breaks the kiss to remove his jacket. your hands instinctively go to him, but he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. “please...”

“don't do this to me.” his hands grab your wrist as a way to ease himself. lips in a thin line as your eyes try to meet his gaze, but he shuns you. “you're fucking evil.” his grip tighten in your skin, but you endure it because deep inside you, you know you deserve his rage. when he sees you, a chill runs down your spine with his eyes darkening. “hyuck...”

he kisses you now more eagerly, stopping your words. lust merging into anger. touches more violently, all the repressed emotions finally emerging to the surface. he takes your bra with a quick move of his fingers, while the other hand buries inside your underwear. he hums in bliss to know you're already soaking wet. to know that he doesn't need to stretch you for him, seeing how ready you are to take him. fingers running through your folds before stimulating the swollen bulge of your satisfaction. circling your clit as he holds you close when your legs start to tremble. “lay back and spread your legs.” he stops and removes his fingers from you, and takes off the remaining clothing on you.

you hold up a moan and do as he told, not leaving unnoticed the moment when he puts his fingers in his mouth and tastes you on his tongue. laying on the bed while his eyes, consumed in their entirety by his pupils, watch you like a predator watches its prey. stroking his cock with the view of your glassy cunt. hovering you and pressing the tip at your entrance; you let out a wail.

a sweet ardor runs through you when your walls clenched around his penis, pushing it inside you as his eyes shut close. your legs shut together before his strong grip on one of them forces you to spread them again, holding it against the mattress. “you're constantly on my mind,” he states, rolling his hips just like he knows you love it. “a-and i hate it.” your back arch and your mouth slip out a groan.

he thrust you against the bed with energy. heavy breathing as he fucks you right, with the dose of rage and passion you both need it. hands holding you down while he smashes into you, cock hitting you without clemency as your vision blurs while you reveled from the way his dick stuffs you. legs trembling and cunt palpitating when he stops suddenly.

his cock twitched between your walls as shudders invade you and a choked sob fill the room, right before his hands grab both of your legs and flexed them under his forearms. a pant leaves your mouth when you feel his dick burying deeper as he comes closer to you. hovering you, so now his cold chain hits your face. a tingle runs through your core and stays in your stomach when he speaks. “i want to hurt you.” walls wrapping him and squeezing his cock. “i-i wanna hurt you... —just like you hurt me.” your arms surround his shoulders and pull him closer. a sublime message you're not willing to say. «do it», instead, your eyes filled with tears, even though you can't decide whether it's from his words or the raw desire that washes you.

the muffled sound of your damp cunt every time shoved his cock filled the room, already mixed with your loud and heavy breathing. necklace subtly moving over your nose and forehead with his rough thrust. long-drawn groans at every throb of your pussy, swamped and dissolving into ecstasy.

a fire pools low in your belly, panting and quivering under his weight due to his raw and merciless pounding. translating his hands under your back to arch it so he can plow you deeper, a lashing running through your nerves when it's too much, when he's too much. “stay still.” you roar and tense your body, feeling numb and drunk of his dick finding his way in and out of you.

face contracting and a shiver sweeps him. “f—fuck.” his hand go to his under-shaft, curling his fingers around it. feeling lightwave when his thrust slows its pace and grinning to know that he's so close to cum he needs to stop. “turn around.” he lets you go, pulling out his length, twitching in his grip. creamy precum mixed with your fluids on the tip.

you press your chest on the mattress and lift your butt, resting your weight on your flexed arms, spreading your legs for him. a shaky breath leaves your lips when you feel him push himself back into you. sliding his cock all the way in while his hands look for support on your waist, arching you even more. they're removed once he fixed your position and go to each side of your body, hips meeting with a smash sound. your butt lifting so you can meet his body in the middle. “o-oh, h-yuck.” you swear seeing stars, twinkling in your vision. eyes glued to the headboard that smacks against the wall with every movement of his hips.

donghyuck fucks you harder, til your mind shuts down and you can only let out incoherent sounds. wailing and hissing because it's too much to handle, because he's driving you to the edge and not letting you go. holding yourself back because you don't want it to end. you don't want him to part away from you and left you in the dark again.

you catch every single sound he makes. drinking it, saving it in your memory. lips pressed on your ear, hearing him whining as he slow down the pace. struggling to keep it up longer. his hand going to your clit and starting to rub the sensitive area. your hips unconsciously rock against his fingers, feeling your vision foggy.

“you're mine and no one else's” he says, watching you squirm under his weight. “you belong with me. to me.” your hand reach his and you interlace your fingers while he thrusts you eagerly. with the intensity of your confessions now on each other hearts.

“h-hyuck,” you moan his name, unleashing a shot of sensations through your bloodstream. the truth told. revealed. releasing that pressure on your chest and now replaced with his words, printed in your memory.

“always.”

“always.”

your muscle tenses when you feel a white noise fill your hearing. the sweet sharp burn in your area increase due to donghyuck hitting that sweet spot at every thrust. your mouth part open and your face contract with the pleasurable feeling that washes you over, dissolving you in waves and trembles that shake your whole body. your walls squeeze his cock with every throbing spasm that invades you, while you are left in nothingness, ruined and numb, in the ether. sensing his cock pulsing as he relentlessly pounds into you and suddenly stop before you feel something warm filling you up.

“s—shit.” he hisses, weighting what he just done. yet his cock is still bury in you, as the last drop of his load paint your walls. he had never nut inside you. always making sure to pull it out before he cums.

the sensation is new to you. back pressing his chest as you feel it starting to leak out of you. a little smile of joy invades you, which doesn't go unnoticed by donghuyck, who joins you. hips rolling and grinding on him, hearing the splashing sounds of your glistening pussy wrapping around his length.

the room is filled with silence, while you stand there, intertwined. until you must go to the bathroom. your reflection looks miserable but also satisfied. lightweight. suddenly the fear of what are you going to find behind the door invades you, while a hundred questions blossom within you.

will he ask you to stay?

will he let you go again?

are these ephemeral moments all that remains of you, as you hope to discover in the future that you have always been destined?

when you open the bathroom door, his eyes says it all.

εїз

your presence goes unnoticed while he is with his friends. “why a butterfly, tho?” one of them wants to know. his laughter infects the others, but he only manages to make the boy smile fleetingly. “mark, do you want to leave him alone?” says the girl, caressing his bare neck. “i think it's wonderful and romantic,” she says, “butterflies..., yes, i kinda like them.” but the boy doesn't glance at her. not once.

at the other side of the table, jisung looks at her, but she doesn't look back, instead, her eyes transfer to someone else.

emily sees you yet don't wave at you. she never invites you to join the conversation with his friends. she's kind to you because that's what she's supposed to be to her roommate. but she never talks to you, or offers to take you home, or invites you to parties. not really. not entirely.

so she stare at you before removing her eyes as if she hadn't seen you. joining the conversation once again, brushing donghyuck's hair as a attempt to get his attention. but she never received it.

you force yourself to look away and follow your course, entering the corridors of history at the library. being so self-absorbed and abstracted playing with the chain around your neck, that you hardly feel the touch that his hand makes when he passes by your side. he doesn't stop to look at you. and you don't go after him. instead, you stare at the monarch butterfly on his neck, and the sound of his voice calling you nabi softly, only for you to hear.

[chuunyu]

a very depressing rant about mizuki

I feel like I have devoured every piece of trans media I've been able to find and while they have all had a major impact on me, Mizuki Akiyama - a character from a miku rhythm game of all places - has had the biggest impact on me by far.

I feel like trans stories don't focus enough on the shame of being trans. I feel like there are a lot of characters that simply insist on their identity without being shown to work through everything that gets you to be shameless as a trans person, and it just feels, alienating?

I came out to myself 10 years ago when I was 14 and I've been on hrt since I was 18 (6 years hrt) but things haven't gotten better for me, they've only gotten worse. At first, I loved expressing my identity, but as I tried harder and harder to be my true self, my self perception became increasingly harsh to the point that I shaved my head. I couldn't handle the immense pressure placed on me by society to be unclockable, to be normal. I hated myself for being this scum that thought they could be a woman. I scolded myself for being a cosplayer. So I gave up.

After I cut my hair, I realized how bad of a mistake I had made, and I wanted more than anything to just be myself again, even if it hurt. I was myself again for 4 years, but I never lost my shame. Why can't I just be normal? Why can I not give in?? Life would be so much easier. I could eat in public again, I could go anywhere I wanted, I could get any job I wanted. I could live without feeling pitied, I could avoid the fake kindness of allies. I could live without a paranoia that made me nearly psychotic.

Mizuki's character encapsulates these feelings. When they were young, they tried to be themself, but not able to deal with the pain society inflicted on them, they repressed their identity. Luckily, once they found some safety, they tried again, but their worries never went away. They never got over their shame. They never accepted that they could be accepted.

For Mizuki, and for me, being trans is an existential obstacle. It's a curse that you wish you could remove, but the only way is through suicide. I will always feel inadequate, no matter how many surgeries I get to fix my shameful face. It's crushing. It makes me scream and cry until I lose my voice. It makes me wish I'd never been born.

After Mizu5, these feelings flooded deeper into my head. Mizuki's responses to the events resonated. To isolate themself, to flee into their imagination, to be hopelessly suicidal, it was all too real. They concluded that there was no place for them that could ever be. It's all things I've done and felt so many times that I can't even count. But as much as I've done these things, as much as Mizuki has done these things, we both just want to be loved. We want to be ourselves and feel truly comfortable. We want to just be safe, but who will give that safety? How can we be convinced that being ourselves is a life that we can live? An easy reply is that gender doesn't exist and that it's all just a game we're playing. As much as I agree with this, it's impractical. I can tell myself that gender doesn't exist as much as I want but when I stay in my school's studio for 10 hours in a day and my facial hair pierces my skin in public view, I have to hide. I cannot be visible. I cannot be myself. The world is not a nice place.

So what are we supposed to do as trans people? I want the answer, an answer that doesn't sidestep reality. I want to leave my room. I want to stop hating myself. I want to live the fantasy I envisioned as a kid.

It's the same with Mizuki. They are hopeless, but they want to be saved. They hate themself, but they want to love themself. They don't really want to die. They can't find an answer, but they want one. So what will that be? I feel like with the way Mizuki is written, the writers have to answer that question somehow. They will have to find a way to convince Mizuki that they don't have to hate themself for being trans. I really wonder what that answer will be. I wonder if it will be something new. I'm just, so sick of being coddled and told I'm normal. I know I'm not, I know I'm a disgrace. I just want an answer. I cut my hair again. I don't know when I will ever grow it back.

[thehighpriestess1]

August : 11

Summary : Fights, doubts, anger and love surround Gojo and Y/n as they try to figure out how to deal with the reunion.

Pairing : Gojo x y/n

Word count : 12k.

Warning : angst, language, slight smut. 18+ only.

Masterlist : Previous

Ask Box

There was momentary silence followed by Gojo’s threat. Trample this village to the ground? You stared at him in disbelief. His gaze sharp as a knife, pierced through your heart. In one life Gojo had broken your heart for the third time. There was no point in arguing with him. He always gets what he wants. Always. And you? You were well aware of your luck by now. You hated him. You hated him so much. You wanted to scream and shout and throw a fit but you couldn’t. True rage is always silent and often unnoticed. You had no power over him, you thought. You were just a pawn in his game. But even a  pawn can be dangerous when it has the  right motivation, you turned and looked at your son. You couldn’t hide anymore. No matter where’d run off too, Gojo will always find you.

“How dare you come here and threaten me?!”. You snarled.

“How dare I?”. Gojo scoffed. “How could you keep my son away from me?!”. Gojo stepped towards you. 

“What was I supposed to do Gojo?! I know It wasn’t right of me but what else did you expect from me?!”. You yelled. “I didn't know what was out there or who was waiting to kill me! I was terrified! There were people showing up at the house asking for me and these people protected me by risking their lives and now you stand here and threaten them! I was terrified!. Your knees felt weak but you held your ground by leaning on the crib. “I was so scared,you have no idea..”. You sobbed. 

Gojo looked at you sobbing  with tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to take the step and hold you in his arms and assure you that everything would be alright but he couldn’t. There was an invisible force field separating the two of you. 

You looked up at him, “You think it was easy for me to do all of this alone? Do you really think I would keep our child away just to get some revenge on you? Is that what you think of me?”. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “I would have reached out to you eventually if it was just me but I couldn’t risk his life. I didn’t know who was waiting out there, Was it Naoya? Utahime? I didn’t know. All I knew was that ..”. You took a deep breath and looked down in the crib. “..I had to protect him.”.

Gojo stared at you in silence, he didn’t realize the weight of his words until it was too late. When he saw the look on your face he knew he went too far. He was desperate. Desperate to have you.  He sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes as you turned to Keisuke. “Y/n  I..I thought you were dead. You..I know it was hard for you but it wasn’t easy for me either. I couldn't eat! I couldn't sleep! For god's sake y/n I lived with your ghost! When I saw you today I…I thought I was dreaming but when I realized that you were really here I…I felt like I could breathe again. You had Keisuke but I had no one y/n. I kept cursing myself for leaving you that day. I shouldn't have left you. I should have listened to you! I…I am not asking you to forgive me just yet. I'm asking you to pity me and give me another chance to live because I don't think I can live without you anymore!!". Gojo let out a heavy breath. You looked at him, he looked desperate, tired, like a man who returned from a lost war.  "I didn’t mean to do it this way but I..I can’t risk losing you again”. He was gasping for breath. 

This was a dilemma. You knew you could no longer continue to live like you lived. You couldn't run, you didn't want to run. 

"There is no point in arguing anymore. You always get what you want anyway so fine let's do it your way but I have a few conditions”. You spoke bleakley. Pleadingly. Turning away to look at your son. 

“Anything. I'd give you anything y/n”. Gojo said, staring at your back.

You turned around and looked at him helplessly. He knew that look. That’s the same way people looked at him when they begged for their lives. He had never thought he would see you this way and it broke his heart.

“I want Keisuke to live a healthy and happy life”.

“Okay”. Gojo ran his hand through his hair  and leaned back against the cream wall.

“I mean, I want to  keep him away from …. Whatever that you do. No weapons or dirty business around him”.

Gojo gritted his teeth. It was insulting the lowly you  thought of him. “Ok”.

“I will have a say in every decision when it comes to him”.

.

.

“Obviously”. 

.

.

“I..I don’t know ..what..”.  You hesitated. “..our relation is but-”.

.

“You’re my wife”. Gojo cut you off. It was non-negotiable. 

You looked at him and walked over to the counter to pull out the proof of your new identity. “Y/n L/n was your wife. I am officially Hana Sato”. You handed him the plastic card.

Gojo took the card from your hand with a frown on your face. He looked at the card and then back at you. It was your face but not your name.Did Hiro give this to you? Is this why Yuta couldn’t find you? He smiled and then broke the card in two pieces. “Problem solved”.

You  stared at him with your mouth hung open. “You..did you just?”. You pointed at the broken pieces of plastic in his hand. 

“Next”. Gojo cut you off again.

“Are we  married?”

“Yes”.

“Are we married legally?”.

“Yes”.

You took a deep breath. “Then I want a divorce”.

.

.

Gojo straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. “No”. 

“Gojo..plea-”.

“No means no, y/n. We are married and we are going to stay that way. Regardless of what you think of me I am not going to raise my child in a broken home”. 

It hurt that Gojo was right. “Fine then. Stay married to me. But you can’t ..have relations with any other woman”.

Gojo let out a tired sigh. Did you really have to tell him that? “Agreed”. But then it clicked. “Wait..did you have any..boyfriend..or whatever ..here?”. Gojo asked, frowning.

“That’s none of your business”. You replied coldly.

Keisuke let out a whimper, you pressed your palm flat against your forehead and took a deep breath. What a mess this whole situation was. “I need to feed him so ..please leave now”. You turned and picked up Keisuke from the crib and brought him to bed. 

“No. I..I want to..be here and help”. 

“And how do you think you could help me feed him?”. 

The sarcasm in your tone irked Gojo. Like it reminded him of his place. “What else can I do then?”.

You sighed. There was so much to do. You had to feed Keisuke, pack your bags, and tell Mr. and Mrs.Itadori what happened. You didn’t have the energy to argue with Gojo now. 

“Fine. If you want to help then can you just…pack the bags?”. 

“You don’t need to take anything y/n. I can have everything there before we reach”.

You glared at him. “Can you please just do as I say?”.

“Fine”.

You turned around and faced the wall as you fed Keisuke. It was awkward with Gojo in the room. Keisuke who was blissfully unaware of the situation tugged on your hair strand while he sucked on happily. “There is a black suitcase in the cupboard behind the crib. Did you find it?”.

Gojo rolled up his shirt sleeves and looked around until he saw the said cupboard. “Yes”. He took the suitcase out and unzipped it. 

“In the drawer ..on the right side of the cupboard you will see his sweaters, take out the red one and put it in the crib”.

Gojo stood up and started pulling out the sweaters until he saw the red one.

“Ouch baby slowly!”. You winched when Keisuke tugged with force.

Gojo paused, “Sorry”.

“Not you!”. You groaned. 

“Oh right..sorry. I got the sweater. Where did you even buy this?”. Gojo asked.

“I..knitted it. Ouch! Keisuke stop pulling my hair”. 

Gojo turned around momentarily and thought maybe he should say something. “Stop annoying mom. We need to leave soon”. 

To your sad surprise, Keisuke let go of your hair strand. But you didn’t tell it to Gojo.

“Pick out a few of his overalls from the drawer below and pack them. Take out the blue one with the giraffe and keep it on the crib”.

Gojo did as he was told. HIs eyes welled up lightly thinking about how he didn’t get to pick clothes for his son. “Done”.

“In the drawer below that, you’ll see his shoes. Pick out the blue ones and keep the rest in a suitcase”. 

Gojo held the shoes in the palm of his hand, they were so small and adorable. “Done”. 

“You will see three stuffed toys in his crib”. You continued ordering Gojo around. 

“Yes!”. 

“Pack the shark, carrot and the bunny…keep the carrot out and pack the other two”.

Gojo stared at the crochet stuffed toys. He picked them up and gave it a light squish. He has missed out on so much when it came to his own son. Was the carrot his favorite toy? 

“Are you listening?”. You called out.

Gojo glared at you and tossed the two toys in the suitcase and kept the carrot out. “Done”. He spoke sternly. 

“There is a travel bag under his crib. It’s pink in color”. 

Gojo bent down and toko the cushioned bag out. “Got it”.

“There is baby formula and a bottle inside it. Can you make it?”. 

Gojo glared at you, if you had been facing him, his stare would have scared you. “No Y/n”. Gojo gritted his teeth. “I can’t make it”.

“Ugh. Fine I’ll do it”. Luckily Keisuke was done. You wiped his mouth with the cloth and picked him up. You turned out and let out an audible tired sigh when you saw the condition of the room. Clothes were falling out of the drawer, drawers were left open, the cupboard door was open. You felt dizzy but you had to push through. 

“Can you..make him burp?”. You asked, looking at clueless Gojo. 

“I can try..what do I do?”. 

“Hold him, how I am holding him right now”. 

Gojo nodded and extended his arm forward. He took Keisuke from you and surprisingly did a good job at holding him. He was too scared to move. This was the second time he was holding his son. He was so small and warm and soft and Gojo was scared to even breathe. He looked at him and then hugged him a little tighter. Keisuke giggled and Gojo smiled. Keisuke grabbed Gojo's ear and Gojo winced initially but then he smiled when he realized that it was his son. Gojo never wanted to let him go. 

“Good", you replied." Now just walk around slowly and pat his back lightly”. Gojo was nervous but he did as he was told and followed you into the kitchen. 

“Did you eat breakfast?”. You asked as you tied your hair up once again in a bun and began prepping. You wanted to scream and fight but you had to remain calm and think rationally. Everything was happening too fast. One moment you were angry at Gojo and next you were internally gushing over him holding Keisuke. You had imagined how Gojo would look walking around with Keisuke in his arms, would he hold him properly? How would Keisuke react? Now that you had seen it you felt guilty about your intentions. 

“No”. Gojo said as he continued doing what he was told. He stood in the entryway to the kitchen and watched you. This felt warmly domestic. 

“Ok ok. Ummmm ok”. You continued without looking at him. “First we need to boil the bottle. We do this to disinfect. While this happens we boil the water for the formula. It will take two minutes so keep an eye on the electric kettle”. You put the bottle in a pan filled with water. 

“Why are we making him burp?”. Gojo asked. 

“Because if we don’t then he might puke out the food and we don’t want that”. 

Gojo nodded. He wondered how you manage everything. 

“While that is happening..”. You trailed off as you put rice in a ceramic bowl and kept it on the table. You had Miso soup in the fridge and you took it out and warmed it on another stove. “..right where were we? Bottle..yes. You see the bubbles forming. It means it’s done”. You took out the bottle from the pan with tongs and kept it on a clean tray to cool. The water in the kettle has cooled down.

You continued to make the baby formula and Gojo watched your every move. Though he doubted he would ever need to do this but as a father he should know this. You kept the bottle in the travel bag and took Keisuke from his hand. “I have kept your breakfast on the counter. Eat it. I will go an..explain something to  Mr. and mrs.Itadori”. 

You left the room through the other door to go meet the family. 

Gojo watched you leave in a hurry and then stared at the two bowls of food in front of him. He smiled as he brought the tray to the small table and sat on the wooden chair. He ate and looked around the house. He pictured you, waddling around with your belly growing everyday. Did you have a healthy pregnancy? He realized he should have asked that. He pictured you walking through the door with the newborn baby, did you think of him when you went into labor? Did you think of him when you delivered? Did you ever think of reaching out to him after he was born? There were so many questions he wanted to ask but he didn’t know how to, or when to ask them. He didn’t know where the boundary began and where did it end? It was blurry in places and non-existent in others. But when it came to your personal life, he realized that it was rock solid. He wondered if you'd ever open up to him. Will the two of you spend the rest of your life living like a cold distant couple? 

Gojo hardly eats breakfast but he looked at the empty bowls in front of him and realized he could eat this very meal everyday. He picked up the tray and took it to sink. There were a few other dishes in there and he realized it was unlike you to leave them this way. So he began cleaning. He cleaned and wiped the plates,bowls and spoons and kept them neatly on a side. He realized that you had created this home, bit by bit, straw by straw, and he was going to uproot it. He realized that he didn’t ask you if you wanted to come with him, he didn’t give you an option, he realized that he selfishly demanded you to come with him. He’d apologize for that later, when you’d have some time together. 

He sat down on the couch and stared blankly at the door through which you left. You were alive. It finally dawned on him. He chuckled. His y/n was alive. The love of his life was alive! He had a son! Gojo smiled ear to ear like a mad man. He was relieved. He was glad he kept the ring all this time. Will you wear it again? He was glad for the clothes he bought for you. But Keisuke would need clothes. He took his phone out and had almost texted Yuri to buy baby clothes when he stopped. No. He wanted to shop for clothes with you. He will paint the nursery with you. He will set up the crib himself. He smiled thinking about it. 

-X-

“What do you mean you are leaving now?!”. Mrs.Itadori gasped.

Mr.Itadori remained calm. He knew that Keisuke needed a father. He watched as you sobbed silently across from them. It had hardly been 30 minutes since they came back from the temple  when you walked down holding Keisuke. 

“I know it’s sudden. But we don’t have time. I don’t want to turn him away”. Half lie, half truth. You couldn’t turn him away. If you do, then everyone will lose everything. “I promise you I will call and I will visit whenever I get a chance”.

Mrs.Itadori held your hand, “I am not stopping you, y/n. I want you to live a good life. Is there anything we could do to-”.

“No. You have done more than anyone. You made me realize what family truly means and I will miss you so much”. You wiped your tears with the tissue paper. 

“It’s okay y/n. We will visit you too. Mrs.itadori walked around the table and hugged you. You wrapped your arms around her waist and sobbed into her chest. She stroked your hair and controlled her own tears. In the past one year you had become the daughter she never had. 

“Y/n-chan is going?”. Yuji asked innocently with his two front teeth missing.

You pulled back from the hug and knelt on the ground to pull Yuji into a hug. “I promise I will visit you”. You kissed his cheek and handed him the toy you had bought for him earlier. 

“Are you taking Keisoo too?”. He asked as he took the toy from your hand.

“Yes baby. I have to”. You smoothed out his spiky hair. 

Yuji’s face turned red and he threw the toy on the floor. “I don’t want your toy! You can’t leave yuji!”.

Mr.Itadori picked up the toy and patted Yuji’s head. “That's a bad habit! Y/n has to go. Like Yuji has to go to school”.

Yuji looked at you with puffed up cheeks. “You..you will come again?”.

“Yes I will. I promise I will!”. You peppered kisses all over his face.

"Don't go! Don't leave Yuji!". You held you and started crying and you picked him up and wiped his tears. "I promise I will visit you. I will bring more toys for you!". 

“Do you need any help with Packing?”. Mrs.Itadori asked.

You kept Yuji down and smoothed your dress. “No no. I have packed everything. We will leave in a while”.

Mr.Itadori picked up Keisuke from the baby chair and cooed. “My baby boy. Grow up healthy and strong and take care of you mommy”. Keisuke babeled something and mr.Itadori laughed. “Tell me y/n, Is this man a good person? If you have any doubt you tell me right now. I will not let you leave with him”.

You chewed on your lip. What were you to tell him that the man who was the father of your child is the same man who killed Hiro?. “Yes. He is a good man”.

-X-

You entered your room and saw Gojo cleaning up the bedroom. You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to leave the family. You felt powerless. 

“Oh you’re here. I have called the driver and he will be here in 30 minutes”. 

You sobbed and nodded your head. “Can you…can you”. You sniffled. You shook your head and took a deep breath. “Can you please hold him for a while..I ..I need to be alone”.

Gojo stepped forward and took the baby from your hand. You walked inside the bedroom and closed the door behind you. Gojo heard a lock click but didn’t say anything. He sat down on the couch silently. 

As soon as you were alone you started heaving. Was it another anxiety attack? You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you and sat down on the floor. You cried, you wanted to cry and yell but instead you kept a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. You were leaving, you were really leaving. You thought about how you painted the room in summer, how you bought a measuring tape and decided on which wall to measure Keisuke’s height, how you were thinking about adding more cartoon stickers on the wall next summer, how you built the crib, and now you were leaving all of it behind. You were leaving the only people who had ever cared about you. You cursed the gods for this fate.Why show you happiness when they always take it away in the end? Your throat hurt and your head felt heavy. You wished you had never gone down to the store in the morning. Then maybe..just maybe..you could have continued to live here in your little paradise.

You got out of the room draggin the suitcase behind you. Gojo stood up  immediately as soon as he heard the door unlock. “I have packed everything we need in this. I have kept his medical documents in the pink bag”. You kept both the bags in the center of the room. You turned around and took in the view of your apartment one last time. 

Gojo could see the pain on your face. Your eyes were red and heavy, your face had lost its color and somehow you looked weaker than you did this morning. He held the baby with one hand and tried reaching for yours with another but you pulled your arm away as soon as you felt his touch. 

“I need to get him ready”. You made Keisuke lie down on the couch and started dressing him. Gojo kneeled down on the floor next to you. “Y/n..please look at me”. He didn’t try to touch you. He just wanted you to look at him. 

You stopped what you were doing and turned your head towards him, “What do you want?”. You asked. 

"Love ..I know it's hard-". 

"Don't call me that. It makes me sick". You snapped back at him.

Gojo's words died down in his throat . He shook his head and you turned yours back to Keisuke. Once he was done getting ready, you packed away his old clothes in the bag. 

“Do you even have a car seat?”. You asked.

“I have arranged for it. There is also a doctor on standby at every hospital on the way”. 

You nodded your head. You sat on the floor,holding Keisuke in your hand, with your back resting against the couch and Gojo sat next to you. “Can I ask you for a favor?”. You gulped harshly.

“Anything”. Gojo replied as he stared ahead at the wall.

“Can you ..please..get someone to clean out this apartment. I don’t want to trouble them”.

“Done”. 

“And..And can you get help for them? Preferably a woman. They are getting old and Yuji is still young”.

“Done”.

“Thank you”.

Gojo turned his head and saw a tear roll down your cheeks. 

“And Gojo..”. You turned towards him.”..if anything happens to me tell Keisuke about me. Bring him here once in a while. Please”.

“No. Nothing will happen to you”. Gojo frowned, why were you making this request? What will happen to you? He won't let anything happen to you.

“Just..promise me”.

Gojo sighed. “I promise”. 

-X-

Gojo stood near the car as you said your goodbyes. Mrs.Itadori handed you another bag full of food and a sweater she had knit for Keisuke. You hugged the family one last time and kissed Yuji before walking away for forever. You looked up at where your apartment was and imagined it to be lifeless and haunted. You bit your lip and turned away before you brokedown once again. 

Gojo fastened Keisuke in the car seat placed between the two of you. You sat down in your seat and wiped your tears with the tissue paper. Your eyes burnt with all the crying. Keisuke was dozing off and the driver was given clear instructions on when to stop for rest and how to drive. 

“He’s asleep”. Gojo commented, trying to start a conversation as the car turned. 

But you didn’t reply and kept staring outside at the village you called home. You kept on staring without blinking at the shop until it was out of sight and when it was you closed your eyes and leaned back in the leather seat. 

“I know it’s tough for you to leave but-”.

“You could have at least asked me what I wanted”. You mumbled. Gojo could see your lips quivering. “It’s too late now anyway”. You kept your eyes closed but didn’t wipe the tears rolling down the corners.

Gojo bit his lip. “Please y/n. You have to understand that it wasn’t that easy for me either”. 

“And yet I am the one leaving everything behind”. 

It was true, Gojo thought as he looked away. Was this the right time to talk? He wondered. He looked at Keisuke sleeping blissfully in the car seat with Mr.carrot by his side. He looked healthy and happy. You had taken good care of him, but who took care of you? 

“I hope you know that I will look for a lawyer when we reach Tokyo”. You spoke, looking straight ahead.

Gojo’s heart skipped a beat. “Y/n you can't be serious. Do you really want to raise our son in-”.

“I will raise my son how I see fit. I have gone through the entire pregnancy without you and I am sure I can raise him well on my own. I would rather he grow up without a father than grow up in your world”.

Your words pierced his heart like a dagger. You knew your words stung and your intentions were cruel but you were ready to do anything and everything in your power to give Keisuke a better life. 

Gojo gritted his teeth. This was not the reunion he had expected. Were you forgetting that you were the one who had betrayed him? You were the one who lied to him? Had you told him the truth then none of this would have been happening right now. “Do you really think it is in the best interest of Keisuke?”. Gojo asked. 

No. You knew that it was not. You knew what it was like to grow up in a  dysfunctional family and you knew you were acting selfish. “Yes”. You said. Even if it kills you for real this time, you will fight for your son.

“Why?”. Gojo asked. “Why do all this when we can try and be a family?”. 

“Family?”. You turned towards him with a shocked face. “Do you even love me? Do you even care about what I want? Have you ever cared about what I want? You wanted to marry Utahime so you left me! You wanted to be with me so you practically kidnapped me and lied to me about everything! You..you killed Hiro for god's sake! And now you..you didn’t even bother to ask me if I want to come with you. You threatened me! Where is love in all this Gojo?!”. You put your hand over your eye and slumped back in the seat. 

Gojo sat silently. How could you ask him that? He knew what he did was wrong. He knew you had every right to be angry but..”I have loved you since the day I saw you y/n. I have made many mistakes along the way but I  never..”. His voice quivered. “..I never meant to hurt you. I know I acted harshly but I did it out of desperation but I swear I did it all to protect you. I agree my means were not the most ethical and I deserve your hatred but I did to protect you. I didn’t know better back then y/n. But I do now so please just give us a chance”.

Gojo leaned his head back and took a quick breath. He didn’t want to lose his composure on you when he was already a villain in your eyes. “I always wanted to have a family. You knew that. I..I missed out on so much. I wanted to be there with you and I couldn’t”.

No. You were not going to believe him. You had heard enough. You had seen enough. You had been through enough. “I Know that you have every power in the world to take Keisuke away from me and I..I can’t risk that. He means everything to me and I can’t live without him”. You spoke as you turned your face away.

Gojo hummed. “And I can’t live without you y/n. Every power I have means nothing in front of you. I just want a chance to prove that I deserve to have you and Keisuke in my life”.

You frowned. “Fine. A month. You get a month”

“Fine then”. Gojo smiled sadly. “But remember that I will be fighting not just for Keisuke but for you too and I will win”. 

You poked your tongue in cheek in annoyance. 

“..and y/n?”. Gojo smiled.

“What?”. You snapped back.

“Stop calling me Gojo. You’re a Gojo too”.  Gojo bent down and kissed Kisuke gently. “-and so is he”.

-X-

Yuri woke up in Gojo's bed, wearing Gojo’s shirt. She wasn’t allowed in here. No one was, except Jerry. But since Gojo was out, she took the liberty. She took in his scent and smiled lazily to herself. She missed him already. Missed his smile. His anger. His eyes. She was hopelessly in love with Gojo Satoru. She turned to see the photo frame on his nightstand. It had black and white photobooth photos collaged together. She wondered why he ever fell for you? You looked normal. A bit dull compared to him. She wished she could scratch off your face from every photo but there were lines she couldn’t cross yet. She had always thought that all men want is sex, but to her surprise Gojo Satoru was different. He turned down her advances. She had tried to get him drunk so he would finally fall for her and thought she had succeeded when Gojo let her kiss her cheek but at the end of the night he went back to his room. She had to make him love her. She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. 

Once your death anniversary passes, she will marry Gojo Satoru. “Gojo Yuri”. She giggled to herself. She wondered how their first night would be. Would he be wild with her or would he be gentle? She wondered how it’d feel when he’d kiss her. Her hand slipped inside her thong as she imagined it to be his fingers, his tongue, his cock. She wondered how he’d look above her, beneath her, behind her. Her breath quickened as she increased the pace. She wondered what term of endearment he would use for her. Her hips twitched as she neared her climax. She imagined his moans and groans as she came whimpering his name. This wasn’t the first time she had cum thinking about him but she was getting tired of using her fingers. 

She turned her head and picked up her phone, 9:00 AM. Gojo must be done with his work. He said he would return by night, she would make dinner for him. Steak? Pasta? She wondered what he would be in the mood of. 

“Jerry!...Jerry!”. She yelled on top of her lungs.

“Yes Ms.Yuri”. Jerry hurriedly rushed in. He was terrified of Yuri and disliked her severely. She had tormented many of the house staff and he had to go above and beyond to either make them stay or compensate them adequately. 

“What’s for breakfast?”.

“Mr.Gojo is not here today”. Jerry replied with his eyes set on the floor. Yuri had asked him to never look her in the eyes and always keep his hands folded in front of him whenever he was talking to her or Gojo. She said it was to remind him of his place. After 10 years of service, he naturally felt insulted by her demand but obeyed anyway. 

“So? Is he the only one who eats in this house?”.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I wasn’t aware that you’d be eating your breakfast here today”. 

Yuri scoffed. “I want a blueberry smoothie and scrambled egg. Got it?”.

“Yes…ma’am”. 

Yuri walked to the dining area with two helpers behind her, one carrying her black Birkin bag and other carrying her cashmere coat. Her red bottom heels clicked with every step. Another help stepped forward and opened the door for her. Another help pulled out her chair for her. Every house help hated being in her presence. Even Gojo Satoru didn’t treat them this way then who did she think she was to demand this treatment. But they were always too scared to say anything. The last help who spoke up was tortured for three days straight. 

Yuri scrolled on her instagram as she finished the last bits of her eggs. She had nothing to do today. Maybe she would go shopping or to a spa or both. She was about to leave when she saw Gojo’s message. She read it and then read it again. No. It can’t be possible. She called Gojo immediately but he cut the call. She called again and he cut the call again. 

“NO! NO! NO!!! NO!!”. She yelled as she threw the glasses and plated at the wall. Jerry and others stood at a distance and watched her. 

When she was done breaking every piece of breakable thing in the room she stood up straight, her hair stuck to her forehead, chest heaving, mouth open, eyes wide with shock. She turned towards Jerry and gritted her teeth. “That bitch!...That fucking bitch is alive!”. 

She opened her phone again. “y/n is alive. I am bringing her and the baby home”. She looked at Jerry again. “Did Satoru text you?”.

“Yes he did”.

“What did he say?”. Yuri asked and she pushed aside her hair. 

“He has asked me to get the house ready. They will be here before dinner”. 

Yuri stared at the phone in her hand, and chuckled. “You can get the downstairs bedroom ready for her and her little spawn”. 

“Mr.Gojo has asked us to..get his room ready for them”.

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “What?”.

“He said that they will be sleeping in the master bedroom”. 

-X-

The car ride was silent for most of the time. You made a mental note of things you would need to do.A month seemed too long and too short at the same time but it could give you enough time to find your footing if you were to divorce Gojo. You wondered if you could tell Gojo everything that had happened but would he use it against you. He could. Your head felt heavy thinking about everything. You looked at Keisuke, still fast asleep and thanked the gods that Keisuke did not wake up. But it was post lunch and you wanted to feed him. 

“What happened?”. Gojo asked, looking at you. You looked adorable, like a kid trying to decide which candy to buy. 

“He is sleeping a lot”. You said.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”. Gojo questioned. He had been reading articles all this time on babies and fatherhood but he felt he still had a lot to learn.

“Not really. If he sleeps now then he won't sleep at night. If he doesn’t sleep at night then I won’t sleep at night”.

“We won’t sleep at night”. Gojo corrected. 

You rolled your eyes at him and tried to wake up Keisuke. Gojo checked his watch, it was 2:00 PM. Let’s stop for lunch. He told the driver who gave him a curt nod. Keisuke opened his eyes and stretched his arms. You were accustomed to his cuteness and yet it melted your heart but watching Gojo melt over his toothless yawns and spit bubbles was even more endearing. 

“Aaaw that’s a big yawn! Mumma woke up my baby”. Gojo stroked Keisuke’s cheeks. 

“Are you hungry?”. You bent down and patted his stomach lightly. Keisuke looked between the two of you and then gave a toothless smile. 

“Aaah his cuteness will give me a heart attack”. Gojo put his palm over his chest and you chuckled. 

The car came to a halt at a pitstop. “You should eat something”. Gojo said as you pulled out the milk bottle from the bag.

“I’m not hungry”. You replied coldly. Gojo could pretend to be a happy family all he wanted but you were not going to budge. 

“You gave me a month, remember? So let me take care of my love ”. Gojo pleaded. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Do whatever you want”. You replied without looking at him and just like that your armor was up.

Gojo smiled, He knew it wasn’t a yes but it wasn’t a no either, and got out of the car. You let Keisuke stay in the car seat and fed him from the bottle. You won’t lie that motherhood is tiring and tough. Maybe having Gojo around until you settle down on your own wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

Gojo walked in between the aisles of 7-Eleven and cursed himself for not thinking this through. He would never let you eat any of this. This is not something a new mother should be eating. He groaned in frustration, how the hell was he going to prove himself to you if he didn’t even know what you could eat or not. He picked up his phone and called the only person who could help him. Shoko.

It had been over 20 minutes since Gojo left and Keisuke was done feeding. He was wide awake now so you opened the car door and got down with him in your arms. The weather was perfect. The sun shone brightly and the air was cool. Keisuke burped twice as you patted his back. 

“Why are you out of the car?”. You heard Gojo’s voice and turned around to see him walking towards you.

“Just wanted to stretch my legs and he needed to burp”. You smiled. You realized that you had kept your sweater in the car and now you were starting to feel the winter. You kept Keisuke down back in the seat and cracked your fingers. He was starting to get heavy. 

“Here. I got sandwiches, chocolate milk, juice, and kit-kats. I wanted to get coffee but I wasn’t sure if you could drink it”.

“Gojo it’s a lot”. You stared at the bag. 

“Then we better get started, right?”. He smiled and handed you a sandwich. 

The two of you ate in silence standing outside as Keisuke played with the carrot in the car seat.

“Gojo, can I ask you something?”. You asked as you kept the sandwich wrapper in the brown trash bag.

“Yes Gojo you can”. Gojo replied.

You rolled your eyes, “I am serious right now”.

“Fine..y/n. Ask”.

“Did you or do you have a ..girlfriend? If you do then I will have to meet her before letting her get near my son”. You looked down, hesitant to meet his eyes. 

“No”. Gojo replied immediately. “I have only loved one woman. My wife. But she ran away last year and now I don’t know where she is”.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s not funny”.

“I mean it. I don’t have any other woman in my life”. Gojo said as he opened the bottle of chocolate milk and handed it to you. You took it without looking at him. “What about you? Any man in your life?”.

“I told you, it’s none of your business”. 

Gojo blinked slowly. He knew you were pregnant for most part of the year but how could anyone not fall for you? Was there someone back in the village? He felt a jealous rage course through him. He swore that if he ever found this man he would make him disappear for laying his eyes on you. 

“If you do then I will have to meet the man before letting him get anywhere near ‘our’ son”. Gojo retorted.

“Fine”. You replied. 

Gojo scoffed but dropped the topic. He could always find out on his own. “Can I ask you something?”. Gojo asked.

“Sure”.

“What did you crave the most when you were pregnant?” 

You turned around and leaned back on the car. “I craved a lot of sweets. Mostly warm bread with honey and whipped cream with lots of mochi.It was like a mochi sandwich. Also a lot of cranberry juice”. 

Gojo chuckled. Looks like Keisuke took after him. Mochi sandwich? It sounded interesting and something he would love for sure.

You cursed yourself for not carrying your coat. The temperature was dropping every hour and it looked like it would snow soon. You straightened up and turned away to check on Keisuke and felt something warm envelop you. Gojo had put his overcoat around your shoulders. 

“It’s fine. I’m not-”. You tried to take it off but Gojo stopped you.

“Keep it. You need to stay warm”.

-X-

You felt someone nudge at your arm. You opened your eyes slowly to see Gojo looking at you. “We are here”. 

You straightened up and took a deep breath, “I didn’t realize I had..why didn't you wake me up?” You asked. 

“You were sleeping so peacefully”. 

You wiped your face with your hand and took Keisuke in your arms. He was awake and looking out with curiosity. Gojo got down from the car and walked around to open the door for you. He held out his hand and you took it as you got out of the car. You looked at the huge traditional mansion in front of you. The entire village could live here happily, You thought to yourself. Gojo stood next to you with his arm resting against your back. You didn’t ask him to move it. 

Yuri watched as Gojo held the door open for you and gave his hand out to you. She frowned, Gojo never opened the door for himself. What changed in 12 hours. But she maintained the smile on her face. Whoever you were, you were no match for her. She looked at the baby in your arms and scowled. What a waste of Gojo genetics, she thought to herself. Were you wearing his coat? She scoffed, in her eyes you were nothing more than a farm animal, a charity case for Gojo. But her resolve faltered when she saw the way Gojo looked at you. He looked …alive.

Jerry stood on the other side of the door with a genuine smile on his face. He had met you a few times before and liked you. He was happy to know that you were coming home. 

“Hello Jerry”. You greeted him at the door. You were happy to see a familiar face.

“Hello Ms.Y/n. You look beautiful”. Jerry said and gave you a curt bow. “Who do we have here?”. He cooed when he saw Keisuke stare at him. “He is adorable”. Jerry smiled at him and Keisuke being the good boy he was, gave a toothless grin. 

“How are you Jerry? And how is Rose?”. You asked. 

Jerry’s heart swelled up. You remembered his wife even if you had met her only once. “We are both good and healthy. welcome to Tokyo Ms.y/n”

“Oh he is so adorable!’. Yuri squealed as she stepped in between you and Jerry bent down to look at Keisuke. She looked up at Gojo and winked. “He looked just like you toru”. She cooed. You turned your head back and glared at Gojo. 

“Y/n, this is Yuri. She is my assistant”. Gojo said as he pulled you into him. He was just as shocked at Yuri’s reaction as Jerry was. He wasn't expecting her to be here at this time.

“I thought Miwa was your assistant”. You couldn’t control your smile. You were not stupid. You knew what was happening here and you found it extremely amusing. You finally had something over Gojo. 

“I am his personal assistant”. Yuri chirped in. 

You turned towards Yuri and she smiled and tried to touch Keisuke but you moved your shoulder and blocked it. "Don't touch him". You said and walked away with Gojo in tow. 

Yuri was left standing there and the whole fleet walked in front of her to follow you. Who the fuck did you think you were? Did you look down on her? You looked down on her?! She gritted her teeth and walked back in. She saw how you greeted all of the staff and smiled at them. Oh you were faking it for sure. Pretending to be a kind hearted person just so you could get money from Gojo. 

“Where do I stay?”. You asked Gojo. 

Gojo smiled. “We stay that way”. He said and led you to the master bedroom. The whole mansion was not only huge but was sprawled out over a vast land. It was  traditional for most parts. As you walked next to Gojo you noticed how no one looked at you. They greeted you but looked terrified for some reason. The master wing of the mansion was at the farthest end which Gojo deemed to be the safest place. The sun had begun to set and the atmosphere was getting colder and you just wanted a hot bath and sleep. 

You didn't want to fight him anymore when he pulled you closer to him. Maybe because a part of you wanted it or maybe because you were too tired to argue. The room was on the top most floor of the mansion and you were surprised to see an elevator leading up to it. You walked out the elevator into a living room with a couch and a small dining table. You walked through the room into the bedroom and when you entered the bedroom you were surprised by the whiteness of it. The most colorful thing in the room was ironically Mr.Carrot you walked in with Keisuke in your arms and You wondered how many nights did Gojo spend here thinking about you you? You turned towards the bed and saw the photo frame of your photos. Your eyes welled up. You wondered how many times he looked at it and how many times did it flip it down? There was a book on the nightstand, was it the same…

"Yeah…I kept it because..just in case". Gojo spoke, standing behind you. 

You looked at him and then averted your gaze. "Okay". You said and made Keisuke lie on the bed. You had to bathe him..

You felt guilty. Like you had stolen something from him. Like you owed him glimpses of things you stole and yet you were being selfish. You got on your knees and started undressing Keisuke. "Do you want to help?". You asked without looking at Gojo but he was next to you, kneeling on the ground in a second. 

"He's so soft". Gojo said. 

"He's just a baby". 

"He is the most adorable baby in the world!!". Gojo spoke and kissed Keisuke's nose.

You looked at him, his face red with baby fever. You smiled to yourself and let him do the job. 

Yuri stood at the door and watched you watch him. It was unfair how easily you got access to things that were prohibited for her. Jerry walked past her with a tray, she watched and scoffed. You didn't even have to ask for anything. 

"Ms.Y/n". Jerry called out. 

You turned around and stood up. You took the glass of water. "Thank you Jerry". 

Gojo stood up and took the second glass. "By the way Jerry". Gojo said before he took a huge sip. "She is Mrs.Gojo now". He winked at Jerry, making him chuckle.  

"My bad, Mrs.Gojo". 

You rolled your eyes. "Please just call me y/n, Jerry". 

Gojo smiled sadly. 

"Well then tell me y/n, what would you like for dinner?". Jerry chirped. 

"Really anything is fine. I don't want to trouble you too much". 

"Oh no trouble at all ma'am". 

Gojo put his glass back on the tray. "Something light should be fine. Oh and send it to the room, we'll have dinner here". 

Yuri watched the whole interaction from the shadows, Mrs.Gojo? A tear rolled down her cheek. She watched how Gojo's hand stayed on your back, how he looked at you when you talked to Jerry. Even Jerry seemed genuinely happy to see you! Why?! Why?! Why?! As Jerry walked past her again she took a deep breath and stepped inside with a smile on her face. "Satoru, I'm sorry to interrupt you". 

Both you and Gojo turned towards her. You exchanged looks. Gojo sighed as he looked at Yuri. He didn't want to waste a second being with you. What could she need now?

"Yes, Yuri?". He asked tiredly. 

Yuri's face dropped. Did he just sigh at her? But her mask was back on in a second. "I just wanted  to remind you of your schedule tom-".

"Cancel everything".  Gojo said without a second thought.

"But we have-".

"Yuri". Gojo interrupted her again. "I said cancel everything".  

"If you have work then you should go". You spoke sweetly as you looked up at him. "We will be fine".

"And leave you here all alone?" Gojo smiled. "Absolutely not". 

"I can survive a few hours without you". You gave Gojo a soft smile.

Gojo chuckled, "But I can't". 

You shook your head and walked back to the bed. 

"You may leave now". He said to her but his eyes were set on you.  

Yuri smiled and walked back. She could hear the baby giggle. As soon as she was in the elevator alone, her smile turned to glare. A dangerous glare. 

You knelt on the bathroom floor as you gave Keisuke a sponge bath. Gojo sat opposite to you, holding Keisuke in his arms. 

"I can't get over how small he js". Gojo said, he looked at the tiny feet and tiny hands. Gojo's palm could easily cover his whole torso.

"He is only two months old but he is growing fast". You said calmly. 

Keisuke wrapped his hand around Gojo's finger and babelled as you wiped his torso. Gojo smiled and shook his hand gently. 

"Turn him around". You said and Gojo obeyed. He held Keisuke upright and you scooted closer to wipe him.

"Where are we?". You asked, looking at Gojo. 

"What do you mean?". Gojo frowned.  

"I…I mean the address. I need to call a cab tomorrow morning". 

"Where are you going?". Gojo asked, scanning your face. 

"I need to go to City to get some things for him". You asked and soaked the sponge in the warm water. 

"We'll go together". Gojo said. He couldn't believe you were still trying to keep him away. 

"It's not that". You read his face. "I don't want to take him out just yet. The weather is getting colder and it's already a new environment for him. He might get sick". You explained as you say back on your heels. 

Gojo's face relaxed. "Don't worry. He'll be safe here with Jerry". 

"I have never left him alone..". 

Gojo smiled and held your hand. "Don't worry y/n, it'll be just for a few hours and you know we can trust Jerry". 

You looked down at where his hand rested on yours. It felt nice. Like you finally had someone on your side.

Gojo looked down at your hands. He could actually feel your skin against his. It was another reminder that you were really here. He knew he had a long way to go before he could earn your trust. But for now even your hesitant touches were more than enough for him. 

"Okay". You replied with a small smile."we'll go together then". 

Gojo had insisted that you take a shower first. He would have preferred to take it with you but he didn't want to push his luck. You were thankful that Gojo was giving you space to adjust. You took a deep breath and let the warm water cascade down your back. You could hear Gojo talking to Keisuke outside and Keisuke replying in spit bubbles. It was funny how alike those two were. Clingy. Talkative. Demanding. Absolute menace. You knew he was going to be like Gojo when all you craved during pregnancy was mochi sandwich. What a concoction that was. But you were sure it was something Gojo…Satoru would love. Maybe you'll make it for him someday. 

The thought of filing for a divorce still weighed heavily on your mind and heart. A part of you wanted to give this a chance but another part of you couldn't get Hiro's words out of your mind. You wondered what he would say if he saw you here with him. Would he be happy that you have a family or would he curse you for settling down with his killer? Hiro saved your life by giving you a chance to escape but he was also the reason you were there in the first place. Gojo saved your life too when he took you away from Utahime and Naoya but Gojo also killed Hiro. You were lied to but you also kept Gojo's son away from him. Gojo missed out on the birth of Keisuke and you knew that if you left Gojo then one day Keisuke would ask who his father was. Even if you stay with Gojo you won't have an explanation for why his father wasn't there at his birth. You had unknowingly hurt your son too. No one was innocent, the only question was did everyone pay for their crimes?  

Gojo was absolutely in love with Keisuke. His little giggles. His tiny arms and feet. His toothless smile. His doe eyes. His tiny button nose. His amusement at everything. But above all he loved that Keisuke was a part of you. You and Him created him. He was proof that your love still existed..it bloomed even when he was going through his darkest days. Gojo stroked his puffy cheeks. He was not going to give up. No. He was going to fight for you and him. He was going to win. 

"Can you tell your mom that I love her and I missed her? She is so stubborn, isn't she?" Gojo scrunched his nose." I hope you didn't trouble her too much. You are going to grow up to be a handsome boy. But remember that you mom is my girl". Gojo winked and kissed Keisuke's cheeks.  

"You can go and shower now". You said as you walked to the bed. Gojo gave Keisuke a parting kiss and got off the floor. 

You were dressed in another one of your dresses. It wasn't the most ideal thing to sleep in but your options were limited. You made a mental note of shopping for some more clothes tomorrow. 

"I..have your clothes here". Gojo said and pointed towards the wardrobe. He thanked the past for thinking ahead. Being delusional paid off. 

"My clothes?". You asked. Gojo walked towards the wardrobe and you followed him. Your eyes widened when he flicked on the light switch. The walk in was filled with more clothes that you've ever had. You walked between the rows of clothes. 

"I..wanted to be ready for whenever I'd see you". Gojo tried to explain. 

"Didn't you think that I was dead?". You turned your head back and looked at him. 

"I was.. hopeful". 

You smiled and walked to the glass top counter. The jewelry inside would put any collector to shame. But your eyes landed on a familiar ring in the center.

"Where did you find this?". You asked, eyes still set on the ring. 

"I found it that night," Gojo said as he walked towards you."After the explosion. I was told that Naoya killed you and before I could search the place it exploded and this was all I could find". He stood behind you with his hand resting on your back.  

"Who told you that Naoya killed me?". .You frowned. 

"Joichiro did". Gojo spoke sternly. 

You let out a sigh and turned around to find yourself in the arms of your alleged husband. Your breath hitched for a second. You couldn't move back and he was staring innocently at you as if he was unaware of your rapid beating of your heart. 

"Do you ..do you want me to put it on you?". Gojo asked. He was serious. He looked down at you, your cheeks had turned pink and he wondered if that was because of the hot shower you took or because you were mad at him. 

Did you want to wear it? You didn't know. Maybe…yes. But no. 

Gojo sensed your confusion and smiled in return. "You don't have to answer now". He stepped back and walked away. You watched in shock, was he really that unaware? You shook your head and picked out a checkered button down shirt and matching shorts to change into. 

When you walked out of the closet you saw Yuri or was it Yumi? Standing near the bed. For some reason you didn't like her. Maybe it was the way she looked at Gojo that irked you. You didn't think you were jealous. Why would you be jealous over him? It didn't make sense right.

"Do you need anything?". You asked as you walked over to her. 

"Just wanted to drop these files off for Satoru". She smiled at you. 

It wasn't a friendly smile. It was a smile that said that she was close enough to call him by his first name. 

"You can give them to me. I'll give it to him". You said, not returning the smile. 

Yuri smiled again. "I'll wait for him. He doesn't take more than 20 minutes to shower anyway". 

You took a deep breath. "He takes exactly 25 minutes to shower. Then another 7 to get ready. I'd rather you keep the files on the table than stand in front of me for another 32 minutes". You pointed at the small table near the door. 

Yuri gritted her teeth. "Do you think you're special?". Her smile had faded. 

"Why don't you ask Satoru what I am?". You smiled. 

Yuri looked you up. "Do you even know how much the clothes on your body cost? The one that you put on so casually? You think all of this is something you are entitled to and you can look down on me only because you have a child with him?You're nothing but a charity case for him". Yuri tilted her head and shrugged.

Few years ago you would have been offended by the comment but you had been through enough to know what this was. "Looking at the efforts he had made so far, I'd say he is extremely charitable".

Yuri bit her bottom lip. You were definitely something. "Just know that if he hadn't run into you today, he would have been mine". 

You gulped. You were angry, not jealous. You convinced yourself. "If he couldn't be yours when I was dead then what makes you think he could be yours now?". You gave her a pressed smile. 

Yuri scoffed and opened her mouth to say something but couldn't. She walked away, throwing the file on the table. You stood there, seething. Even if you were going to leave Gojo, there was no way you were going to let her walk all over you. 

Jerry brought in dinner soon after and by that time Keisuke had been fed and asleep. Gojo sat opposite to you on the small coffee table near the balcony. He watched you poke the bowl of half eaten rice. 

"Is everything okay?". He asked. 

You snapped out of your thoughts and smiled at him. "Yeah. Just tired". 

Gojo watched you like a hawk. "No. It's something else". 

"All of this. It happened so soon. I just want to give him a home and I can't even seem to do that". 

Gojo sighed. It was his fault and you were blaming yourself. "It's not your fault. You have done a great job bringing him up on your own. You don't have to do it all alone anymore. Let me help you when I can". 

You smiled and nodded your head. 

Gojo smiled and kept a piece of spinach on top of your rice. "for now eat this. I read that the new mothers have iron deficiency and usually it goes unchecked until it's too late. Let's go for a check up tomorrow".

You watched him with your mouth agape. "Where did you read this?".

Gojo's cheeks turned pink. "On a blog called daddy and me". 

"I don't want to go for a check up". You replied and shoved the food in your mouth. 

Gojo hummed. "Why not?". 

You chewed your food and kept your eyes fixed on the table.

"Y/n, why don't you want to go for a check up?".  Gojo pressed on. He could read you like an open book. 

You swallowed painfully and looked at him. You knew that sooner or later you will have to tell him. Will he get angry? Will he get mad at you?

"I don't want to"

"Why not?". Gojo asked calmly.

You sighed in frustration. "Because I don't want to! Isn't that enough?". You asked angrily. 

"No it's not!". Gojo replied. "God y/n! You could keep your favorite color from me ',if you want to, but this.." Gojo's voice dropped. "...this seems serious and as your husband and the father of our child I have the right to know ". 

You sighed. "Fine but try not to make a big deal out of it, okay?".

Gojo stared at you blankly. Since when did you get so rude? "Fine". He replied. 

"Keisuke was born perfectly fine. But after delivering him". You looked down at your hands in your lap. "I didn't stop bleeding for quite some time. I had lost too much blood and doctors weren't sure if I'd even make it. But fortunately, they were able to control the bleeding but I was unconscious for a day".  

There was a heavy silence between the two of you. Gojo was shaking but he remained calm on the surface. You had gone through so much and yet you didn't reach out to him? Did you hate him that much? Was he that bad of a person?

"Because of that I have postpartum anemia. Usually it improves in two months but it hasn't in my case". You kept your eyes fixed in your lap.

Gojo let out a heavy breath and leaned back in the chair. How was he ever going to fix the mess he made? He was angry. He was hurt. But he knew he deserved it. 

"But I assure you that Keisuke is fine and you can see his reports". You tried to explain. 

"It's not just about Keisuke,y/n. You are just as important to me as he is. I..I don't know what to say… Fine. We'll still go to a doctor and get a consultation. For my sake, please?". He didn't want to force you anymore than he already had. He could only please and pray that you listen to him.  

"Fine". You replied with a smile. Sometimes you have to let go of control.

Since there was no crib yet, Keisuke slept in between you and Gojo on the bed. He was deep in his sleep surrounded by his toys. Both you and Gojo looked at him sleeping with his mouth open slightly. You bent down and kissed his head good night and so did Gojo. As you closed your eyes and tried to get a much needed sleep, Gojo couldn't bring himself to sleep. A part of him was scared that if he closed his eyes then all of this would vanish. He looked at his son and then at you. Gojo knew that you were strong and capable and he was going to give you the freedom to decide what you wanted to do but a part of him, the part that lurked in the shadows, the part that made him the infamous ice Prince, that part reminded him that you were too precious to be out in the world alone. You were too kind. Too delicate. Too good to be out in this dark dark world. There were some really bad people out there and as your husband, as your lover, as the father of your child, he was going to protect you, shield you from everything. If you want to fight then he will let you fight. If you wanted to hurt him then he would let you hurt him. But he was not going to let you go. In this world you were his salvation. You were his sun and the moon. You were his'. 

-X-

You woke up the next day to see Keisuke cooing next to you. "Good morning baby". You spoke in your baby voice You smiled and kissed him. Keisuke giggled. "Did you sleep well? Of course you did! You didn't wake up mama once. My good boy". You peppered his face with kisses. 

You frowned when you saw a beautiful bouquet of white dahlias. You smiled and propped up on one elbow and picked up the bouquet. It was beautiful. There was a note attached to it,

Good morning love! 

Come down for breakfast!

You rolled your eyes at the pet name. Stubborn and annoying and too sweet. You fed and changed Keisuke and freshened up and changed into one of your own dresses. The only problem, you didn't know where the kitchen was. You got out of the bedroom and made your way to the elevator. A note was stuck on the door.

"You don't know where the kitchen is? Go down the elevator and turn left". With the note was another flower, white Chrysanthemum.

Is this what he spent the whole morning on? "Look at what your dad is up to?". You kept the note and the flower in your dress pockets and went down the elevator. When you got out you took a left turn and a help handed you another note. 

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. "He could have just asked you to take me there". You joke but the girl kept her head bowed down. 

You frowned and adjusted Keisuke in your arm. "Hey..Look at me. Are you okay?". You said. 

The girl looked up hesitantly. The moment your eyes met she looked down again. Did Gojo ask her to do this? "Look, I don't care what anyone else has told you but when you talk to me or help me, you look at me". You said. 

"Yes ma'am". She replied and looked up. She looked slightly younger than you. 

"Why didn't you look before?". You asked. 

"I was told not to". 

"By who?". You demanded. 

"Ms.Yuri". She replied. 

You bit your lip and took a deep breath. "What's your name?". 

"Nia…ma'am". 

"Nia". You spoke softly. The girl looked terrified and you didn't want to scare her more. "you don't answer to Yuri. Okay? If she does or says anything to you, you tell me okay?". 

Nia smiled and nodded her head. "Yes ma'am". She handed you the note and another chrysanthemum. 

You looked at the note, 

I can't see you now but I'm sure you look beautiful. Hurry up now. I'm waiting for you

"Looks like you were supposed to take me there". 

Nia nodded her head and led you. 

You walked in an open kitchen facing the backyard and a dining table. The air was warm and smelled of freshly baked cookies. 

"Good morning!". Gojo yelled as soon as he saw you walk in. He walked over and wrapped you and Keisuke in his arms. This was the first time you were this close to him. Even Gojo was taken aback by his actions but he went with it. He was holding his whole world in his arms and he was not going to apologize for it. He could feel you stiffen and then relax and smiled when you did not push him back. 

He felt warm. His white button down shirt smelled of cookies and you felt safe. Even Keisuke seemed to have relaxed in your arms. You wanted to hold him but had Keisuke in your arms so you just let him hold you instead. You liked this feelin.  

Gojo kissed Keisuke and stepped back. “Look what I have here”. Gojo spoke excitedly and brought a baby rocker from under the table. “It’s perfect for 1-3 months old”. Gojo continued.

You looked at him, he looked happy, excited. You returned his smile and bent down to put Keisuke in. You were thankful for this as he was getting heavier and your arms hurt a little.

“When did you wake up?”. You asked Gojo. 

Gojo looked at Keisuke and both of them exchanged a look of secrecy. Gojo didn’t sleep for more than three hours last night. Keisuke woke up every two hours and Gojo walked around the room holding him, trying to put him to sleep. At one point, both of them watched youtube videos on how to put babies to sleep. It worked but only for two hours. Gojo understood that it was because of the new environment but he didn’t want to wake you up. You had traveled a lot and needed the rest.

“I woke up a few hours ago”. Gojo replied casually. 

“You woke up at six?”. Your eyes widened. 

No. He woke up at 5 because he wanted to go to the florist and hand pick the best flowers for you. “Yeah. around that time”. Gojo chuckled. “Now sit down and let me serve you your breakfast”. 

You rolled your eyes and took your seat at the table. Gojo brought a huge tray of the most elaborate breakfast you had ever seen. Green smoothies, warm oats and honey, fruits cut in heart shape, blueberry pancakes, waffles and whipped cream. 

“I can’t eat all this”. You chuckled. 

Gojo smiled. Your smile had all the tiredness leaving his body. “It’s fine. Have as much as you can just don't forget the smoothie. I read that this spinach smoothie is great for mothers with iron deficiency”.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "You and your daddy and me blog". 

You smiled and started the breakfast with Gojo. The morning sun filtered through the large windows and as you discussed the shopping list with Gojo,With Kisuke’s toy tune playing in the background, you realized that this was what you wanted when you were a child. A loving home. Breakfast table conversation about the day ahead, flowers  and fruits on the table, someone to look at you how Gojo was looking at you right now. It was peaceful. It was your own little world. Somewhere in the background Keisuke giggled, making both you and Gojo smile and shake your head. You watched as Gojo bent down and played with him. You didn’t know whether he loved you or not, you didn’t know if his words could be trusted when it came to you, but you knew that he loved your son. He would never let anything happen to Keisuke. So was it fair for you to take all of this away from him? You couldn’t live without Keisuke, Gojo couldn’t live without Keisuke, but could both of you live together? You had a month to decide and Gojo had a month to prove himself.

@hiqhkey @chemtrails-club @simplyrosesxr @foggyperfectiondragon @sofi786 @vesta-ro @kimvmarvel @mykyoon @shintin @attackonsimpp @pyschopotatomeme @lilith412426 @shuxjodie @sagejin @cloudsinthecosmos @hecateria @froggylust @lightblueexorcist @watyousayin @creolequeen11210 @s13nnnna @shartnart1 @the-crane-wives @musababy @loquia @ackerstain @allofffmypeaches @regalillegal @erintaro @commandertorinshepard @gojo-sunglasses @tspice283 @iam-mia9 @screwyou3 @denypipa @smolkazumi @winter-bearv @mc-reborn @pangolynnn @sindela @daintyazra @purpleguk @iam-mia9 @sammyiguess

[gardenoflupins]

Fairy Tale AU / @wolfstarmicrofic / 774 words

“For pity’s sake,” a voice groaned, “can you stop your incessant weeping.”

Remus flinched, straightening himself up from the tree he was leaning against with a sniff.

“What?” he chokes out, searching for the voice. He is startled once more when he angles his head up to a man crossing his arms with an exasperated look.

“It’s endless with you. Always weeping. Always disturbing the rest of us.”

Remus gapes. He had not expected anyone to hear him, much less be around this area. He chose this spot to cry in specifically because it was away from other people. His face flushes with discomfort.

“Sorry,” Remus offers weakly. It’s then that he really takes the stranger in. They stand in the same cross position, brows furrowed at Remus. What stands out most to Remus is how attractive he is, with the sharp contours of his face, pale skin and strange stormlike eyes. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

The stranger grimaces. “Right, please resume crying elsewhere.”

Remus’s eyes widen and he stutters for a moment. Along with the embarrassment, a sense of anger hits him. “Excuse me?” he bristles. “You don’t own this place. That’s quite rude.”

Infuriatingly enough, the other rolls his eyes as if he is talking to an ignorant child. “You don’t own this place.”

Remus grits his teeth. Perfect. An arrogant asshole to deal with along with the existing pile of problems he has.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You’re depressing everyone.” He cocks his head to the side. “And you’re going to attract unwanted attention. Someone is bound to mess with you and then devour you.”

Remus can only stare at him before he slowly shakes his head. This person was incredibly rude (and very handsome). Feeling humiliated, he stands up and walks away without looking back.

He walks for only a few seconds before risking a glance back, only to find the clearing empty. Dumbfounded, Remus turns forward and is overcome with the same grief, this time worsened with the confrontation.

His tears start once more. He was wounded that someone had found his safe space in the heart of the forest and made him uncomfortable enough to leave. Was he always bound to lose everything?

“Have I upset you more?” someone asks from behind. Remus curses and flips around, red eyes glaring at the stranger who at least had the decency to look a bit guilty.

“What do you want?” he asks bitterly, “I’m already leaving like you wanted.”

They gaze at him curiously, coming to stand next to him. Remus tenses.

“Perhaps that was not the way to introduce myself,” he allows.

Remus continues glaring at him. They quirk a brow and retry. “I suppose I have no reason to remove you. You are obviously fond of this place with how often you read and nap here. I’ve seen you talk gently to the birds and sometimes even the trees.”

Cold horror spreads across Remus’s chest and into his entire body.

He continues speaking, unconcerned that his words are unsettling. “You don’t break branches, you pick up any litter you see, and you share your food with smaller animals. It is not right for me to forbid you from coming when you are one of the only humans that treat this place with the endearment it deserves.”

Remus doesn’t respond to that. How had this unusual person known all of that? Who was he? Remus feels uneasy. The man himself seemed uncanny but not in a horrible way. Just too… perfect. He had an aura that unwillingly drew Remus in like an insect to a web.

“Are you a park ranger or something?”

An amused smile plays on his lips. “Something like that.”

“Thank you,” Remus says stupidly, chest heaving with relief. The other’s expression turns into something intense and waiting. “It means a lot. I owe you,” he continues.

The man raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

There was that strange feeling again. His soft and confident voice drew Remus in like a haze. Remus’s body tensed at the urge to lean, lean, lean into his presence. He held his ground and hummed in affirmation.

“You’ll find,” the other mused, “that you will regret promises like that.”

Remus paused to give him a wary once over. He faltered when he finally took in the peculiar way the man's ears were pointed.

His smile grows at that, looking a little menacing. “I’ll collect that favour soon. In the meantime? Feel free to cry.”

Remus yanks himself backwards when the man just disappears. Completely gone from existence. He is left staring at the empty spot with wide, frightened eyes.

[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Voldemort/Narcissa, with the explcit purpose of making sure Lucius knows about it as one more way for Voldemort to fuck him and his family over (literally!)

thank you very much for the ask, anons!

now... here's why i declare myself a citizen of cissamort nation, a ship i actually find fascinating enough for a wee bit of it to be chilling in the wip folder...

and the reason i find it so interesting is because it enables me to indulge one of my favourite things to explore when writing voldemort - his extremely complicated relationship with wizarding social convention.

by which i mean, his blood- and magic-supremacist views are obviously sincere, he does genuinely think that being pureblood makes somebody better than having muggle ancestry [he just doesn't include himself in that category].

but he doesn't respect the social order - and its norms - which the wizarding world has invented to uphold blood-supremacy - not least because he clearly doesn't think these are sufficient to keep all the mudbloods at bay. he is singularly lacking in deference towards the class system, he shuns the expected behaviours of "polite" society, he wants to tear down the established order and make it anew...

and he has very little respect for those among his death eaters who would prefer to do otherwise.

that is... lucius and narcissa.

lucius enters such a flop era from order of the phoenix onwards because voldemort is clearly fuming about the fact that he preferred to insist he was under the imperius curse during the first war - rather than, like his brother- and sister-in-law, refusing to denounce the cause - because he didn't want to lose the comfortable, socially-prominent life he had by virtue of his name, wealth, and blood status. voldemort goes to great lengths throughout the latter books of the series to punish him for this by specifically attacking the maintenance of social norms which lucius values so highly [by squatting in the malfoys' home, refusing to behave like a guest, and humiliating his host before his peers; by constantly emasculating lucius; by treating his son and heir as expendable; and so on].

and lucius and narcissa's turn against voldemort - as much as it's connected to their love for draco [and as much as they do seem to be sincerely good parents] - is also connected to their growing realisation that, if voldemort wins, they will be made pariahs, and will never again enjoy the life at the top of the pile they've had for so long.

however, while voldemort's ire is beamed straight at lucius, his feelings towards narcissa are - it's clear in canon - rather more complicated...

because while voldemort evidently doesn't like her, he seems to dislike her predominantly as a cipher for social convention - and, specifically, for gendered social convention.

or, she becomes collateral damage in his quest to humiliate lucius by painting him as a failure of a man. voldemort spends the opening of deathly hallows insulting the conventions narcissa canonically takes pride in as an elite pureblood wife and mother... but he does so by, even if not entirely intentionally, portraying her as someone lucius should also feel ashamed of disappointing by his lack of proper masculinity.

i don't think this is because he respects the role of the pureblood woman as narcissa would understand it [the lack of opportunity afforded to elite pureblood women - all of whom seem to be married when they're barely out of school, don't work, and don't seem to be particularly socially visible - seems to me like something he would perceive as dishonouring the superiority their blood-status and magical power should afford them], and nor do i think he's some sort of "free her from her shackles" marriage abolitionist.

but i think he can be written as thinking of narcissa as someone he pities [although certainly not in a particularly kind or empathetic way] and sees as having been denied "proper" experiences because her husband's a worthless peacock-fucker, and whom he thinks would benefit from receiving the attention of someone who actually knows what he's doing...

and we have our potential setting right there on the page in order of the phoenix, as narcissa becomes central to voldemort's plans to retrieve the prophecy - with lucius circumvented throughout the plotting stage - when kreacher goes to her when sirius orders him to leave grimmauld place, and provides her with information that - it's implied - many of the rank-and-file death eaters wouldn't appreciate the importance of, but voldemort very much does.

narcissa's significance to voldemort's prophecy caper is reduced in the watsonian text by harry's grief over sirius - which associates the debacle in the department of mysteries in his mind primarily with bellatrix, and therefore ends up linking kreacher's great affection for bellatrix to his betrayal of her cousin.

but it's there.

and it must have involved narcissa spending the odd night shut up with the dark lord in her best guest bedroom.