#I wish I could go back to two months ago and not get into this at all

[corroded-hellfire]

Forever Young - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: It’s Eddie’s 40th birthday and when everything else is making him feel old, you aim to show him that he’s still young.

Note: in honor of our birthday boy

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m! receiving, older!eddie, Eddie still has his breeding kink of course

Words: 2.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

To say Eddie wasn’t excited about his 40th birthday would be an understatement. The closer it came to the day, the grumpier your husband became. He’d grumble under his breath, the words obviously not meant to be heard by you or the kids; but the sentiment was still conveyed.

Months before his birthday, Eddie made it clear to you that he did not want a party. Although he loved spending time with his friends and loved ones, he had decided that he only wanted to spend this particular day with his family. But just because he would be getting through the day unscathed by in-person jokes and ribbing from the likes of Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson didn’t mean his own family wasn’t going to tease the patriarch.

“Happy birthday, Dad!” Luke holds a card out to his father. His grin isn’t necessarily mischievous, but it’s smart to always be on guard when it comes to the teenager.

“Thank you.” Eddie takes the indigo envelope from his son and slips the card out. Before his eyes can even take in the bold bubble letters on the front, a pamphlet slips out. Eddie catches it before it can fall to the floor and holds it up to take a proper look.

Hawkins Comfort: The Exceptional Home for Senior Living

The clenching of Eddie’s jaw causes Luke to snicker. Your husband tosses the pamphlet at your son’s face before reading the card itself. Luckily for Luke, the card itself was sweet and didn’t add further insult to injury.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie nods his head and closes the card.

“Thanks,” he reiterates.

“Aw come on, Dad,” Luke says, stepping forward and patting his father on the back. “I’m just messing with you.”

Freshly dressed for the evening out, Eliza zooms into the room, the three-year-old already tickled pink at the thought of having some cake after dinner. She runs into her dad’s legs and wraps her little arms around them.

“Happy birthday!” It’s the fourth time she’s told him this today and he knows it won’t be the last.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“See?” Luke says, nudging his dad. “You have a baby. You’re not old.”

Eliza’s face goes from gleeful to rueful.

“‘M not a baby!”

“Excuse me, miss.” Luke bows to her before snatching the toddler up into his arms. “I meant to say that Daddy has a young lady for a daughter.”

Placated by that explanation, Eliza nods her head once. “Better.”

As you walk into the living room, a minute later than Eliza due to her rapid speed, Luke gestures to you with one hand while the other one supports his little sister.

“And look! You have a wife who is in her twenties.”

Eddie’s tongue pokes out of the side of his lips, internally trying to decide if that fact makes him feel better or worse. He does have a young, hot wife. But does that make him feel young as well or does he just feel each and every day of those eleven years between the two of you?

“See! Mama is young!” Eliza says.

“Are they ganging up on you, honey?” You playfully pout as you approach your husband’s side.

“Luke’s ready to check me into a nursing home,” he gripes.

“Why you need a nurse?” Eliza asks.

“He doesn’t,” you say before Luke gets a chance to be a wiseass. “Daddy takes care of himself and all of us. Right, Lize?”

“Yeah!”

“Are we ready to go?” Ryan asks, waltzing into the room as he pats his flat stomach. “I’m starving.”

“Didn’t you have a bowl of cereal an hour ago?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “An hour ago.”

Eddie sighs, remembering the days when he too was a teenager and could inhale food all day and keep that small waist of his. As if able to read his mind, you slip your arm around your husband’s middle and give it a small squeeze.

“Alright gang,” Eddie says, “let’s head out.”

After you all return home, Eliza isn’t nearly as excited about cake as she was before. Her head rests on your shoulder, soft whines coming out of her mouth as you carry her into the house.

“We told you not to eat too much ice cream,” you say.

“Daddy said I could,” she groans.

The restaurant gave Eddie a free ice cream sundae for his birthday and he invited all of you to share it with him. The boys, of course, had room even after finishing off their dinner plates completely. But Eliza’s tiny tummy was already decently full of her noodles before she picked up a giant spoon and started scooping the vanilla dessert into her mouth.

“But you had too much.” You press a kiss to her curls before setting her down on the couch.

Eddie hangs his keys on the hook by the door before coming over and wrapping his arms around you.

“Thank you for a nice dinner, princess.”

You smile up at him and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Daddy?” Eliza asks.

“What’s up?”

She pushes herself to sit up straighter and tucks her legs beneath her.

“How old you now?”

He gives her a small smile as he drapes his arm across your shoulders.

“40.”

“Whoa.” Eliza’s eyes widen comically. It’s hard for you to keep your laugh in. “That’s big number. I don’t think we got enough candles for the cake me and Ryan made.”

This time you have to turn your head to the side and hide your smile in Eddie’s armpit.

Thankfully, Ryan is able to assure Eliza that they don’t need to put the whole 40 candles on the cake. With a gaggle of offbeat singing surrounding him, Eddie smiles and closes his eyes to think of a wish. Apparently, he takes too long for his daughter’s liking. She sighs, naturally dramatic as always, and everyone else laughs.

Eddie is able to blow out all the candles in one go and you cut the cake, giving pieces to your two sons who are eyeing the confection with glee. You’re unable to keep from snorting in amusement at their never-ending hunger and you take a seat next to Eddie to eat your own piece. Deciding to power through it, Eliza manages to eat half off a slice before she lays across her dad’s lap, hands holding her once again full belly.

The perk to her being so full is that it’s easier to wrangle her into her pajamas and under her covers. With one last wish of a happy birthday to Eddie, he presses a kiss to her forehead and her eyes begin to flutter closed.

The boys aren’t far behind. Whether or not they’re going to sleep, you’re not sure. But as long as they’re in their rooms you’re happy. Because you have one last surprise for Eddie today.

You come up behind him as he unbuckles his belt and yanks it out of the denim loops on his black jeans. His shirt raises up slightly and you take advantage, slipping your hands beneath the fabric, letting your nails gently scratch over his pale skin. Eddie starts to unzip his pants and you press trailing kisses across his shoulder blade.

“Baby?” Eddie steps forward out of your grasp and turns around to face you. “I’m pretty tired.”

A frown creases your brow. Eddie has every right in the world to be too exhausted to fool around and just want to climb into bed, but you’re not buying that’s really the case right now.

“Okay,” you say softly, stepping forward and gently cupping his face in your hands. “We can just lay down and cuddle if you want. But something tells me you’ve got something on your mind.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, Eddie sighs and steps backward out of your hands, and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. You move to stand in front of him and gently card your fingers through his bangs resting against his forehead. He rests one hand on your hip and appears deep in thought for a few minutes.

“I just…” he finally says. “I just feel like the older I get the more pronounced our age difference is.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, not expecting that to be what’s on his mind.

“Hey.” Gently, you take his chin between your thumb and forefinger and lift his head so he’s looking you in the eye. “So what?”

Eddie’s brow furrows and he looks at you, skepticism dancing across his face.

“What do you mean ‘so what?’”

“That exactly. So what if you look like you’re forty and I look like I’m twenty-eight? Those are our ages. Just like you looked thirty-two when we got together and I looked twenty. And how in thirty years you’ll look seventy and I’ll look fifty-eight. What does it matter? Do you really think I give a shit what anyone else thinks? The only two people in this marriage are you and me, buddy.” You grab his shoulder and gently shake him back and forth. “I knew how many years apart we were when we got together. When I married you. When I had a baby with you. You think I would’ve stuck around all this time if I had doubts about our age difference? No way, baby. You’re stuck with me. Even when I get gray hair and all.”

A finger absentmindedly brushes against Eddie’s temple as you speak. Your husband stiffens, connecting the dots between your words and where you touched him.

“I have gray hair?” He jumps up and scurries to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room.

“What?” A heavy sigh deflates your body as you realize the conclusion he jumped to. “No, Eddie. You don’t have any gray hair.” His inspection in the mirror bothers you, so you walk forward and manage to squeeze between him and the mirror. “But even if you did, you’d still be the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against yours.

“I don’t feel forty,” he whispers to you. “I feel like a kid still.”

“Well, you are a big kid,” you tease, managing to pull a small smile out of him. Relieved to see him feeling a bit lighter, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck. “And besides, I think I’m the last person in the world you have to convince that you’re still young.”

“And why’s that?” he asks.

Giving him a suggestive smirk, you lean in until your lips ghost against his.

“Because,” you whisper, “of how nice and good you fuck me.”

A low groan reverberates from your husband’s chest and he pulls you flush up against his body.

“Yeah?” His voice is dripping in lust. “You like how I make you feel, princess? How hard I pound that tight little pussy of yours?”

“Uh huh,” you whimper before pressing your lips against his.

Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips as you walk him backward towards the bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, all it takes is a small push from you to have him falling onto his back. His eyes are dark with need as he watches you tug his open jeans down his legs. The two of you work together as he yanks his shirt off over his head and you tear his boxers off.

As you fall to your knees between Eddie’s thighs, he sits up enough to pull your top off as well. Once you’re free of the offending fabric, you take Eddie’s cock in your hand. You move it up and down slowly, feeling him harden in your grip.

“Fuck,” Eddie growls.

On a swipe down you lean in and press a kiss to the tip. The resulting moan from your husband sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You pump his cock a few more times before you can’t hold off any longer and have to take him into your mouth.

“Yes,” Eddie hisses.

You run your tongue along the underside of his length, making sure to keep eye contact with him the entire time. The way he watches you with lust-blown eyes and his chest rises and falls in rapid succession with his shallow breaths has you squeezing your thighs together.

You start to bob your head up and down, taking him a little deeper each time. He becomes impossibly harder in your mouth. A large hand gently cups the side of your head and pulls you off of him. The way you whine in protest makes Eddie chuckle darkly.

“Sorry, baby,” he says. “Feels too damn good, though. Need you up here.”

He helps you to your feet and shed the rest of your clothes. Eddie shuffles back towards the pillows, eyes taking in your every movement as you crawl up towards him. When he moves to sit up, you put your hand on his shoulder and push him back down.

“You just lay there,” you coo, lifting one leg to straddle across his thighs. “Rest those old bones and let me take care of you.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, playfully glaring at you and the shit-eating grin on your face.

“Fine,” he challenges. Eddie raises his arms and laces his fingers together behind his head. “Get going.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. The two of you moan in tandem, the feeling of being united insanely pleasurable.

Once you’re fully seated on him, you start to rock your hips back and forth. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and bites at his bottom lip. His fingers dig at the back of his head, digging into his scalp to keep from caving and grabbing ahold of your body.

Sensing his resolve breaking, you rest your hands on his chest and lean in to speak softly.

“What do you think, Eddie?” you croon. “Want to get me nice and knocked up on your birthday?”

“Shit.”

Your words snap the last bit of restraint he was holding onto and his hands fly to your hips, helping your body move against his.

“Come on, handsome,” you continue through labored breaths, “fill me up with your cum.”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie huffs a laugh and tilts his head up, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fucking forty now, I should be able to last longer than this.”

“You forget I know how to push your buttons.”

“Mm?” Eddie looks back down at you, raising an eyebrow as you bounce on his cock. “You mean like this?”

A ringed hand slides between your body and rubs quick circles over your clit.

“Fuck!” You bite down on your lip, attempting to keep your voice low.

“Let’s go, princess. Want you to come with me.”

Unable to respond in any articulate way, you nod your head and hum incoherently. With one hard flick against your clit, the coil in you snaps. Your head falls forward, your jaw hanging open as your high washes over you. The way you clench around Eddie has him following right behind you, the two of you rutting against one another as you ride out your orgasms.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groans as both of your bodies begin to come down.

Suddenly boneless, you flop down against Eddie’s chest and he instinctively wraps an arm around you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and lets his heavy eyes close.

“I love you so fucking much,” you mumble against his chest, slightly sticky with sweat.

Eddie breathes a chuckle and rubs his hand up and down your back.

“How are you so perfect?” he asks.

Now it’s your turn to laugh.

“I’m going to remind you that you said that next time you get all grumpy over me making fun of your age.”

Before you have time to process his movements, Eddie grips your waist and flips the two of you, smirking down at you as he settles his weight against your body.

“I’ll just have to keep proving how well I can fuck you then,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Is that supposed to discourage me?”

[gunnerfc]

Control | Lia Wälti x Reader (18+)

Summary: During a night out with the team, Lia lets her feelings for you get out of hand and tells, though in a different way you wouldn’t have expected 

Warnings: smut minors DNI!, top reader, bottom lia, strap use (lia receiving), strap riding, begging, jealousy 

WC: 2.3K

The loud music in the bar was deafening and a bit annoying if you were to ask Lia. The midfielder didn’t even want to come out with the team tonight, having planned to stay in and sulk about the massive crush she had for you. Lia has had feelings for you since you joined Arsenal, which was almost a year ago at this point. The midfielder refused to tell you, or anyone, because she didn’t want to risk ruining the friendship the two of you had built. 

But now that she’s seated in a booth in a loud bar, watching you laugh with your teammates, she wishes she had said something. Lia wishes it was her making you laugh like that, but instead, she was in the corner sulking. 

Conversations between Leah, Steph, and Kim echoed in her ears, but she wasn’t listening. She was too distracted by you in a different booth with Alessia, Caitlin, and Katie. 

“Lia,” Kim’s familiar Scottish accent pulled her from her thoughts. Lia turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of her three teammates, who were all staring at her as if they were waiting for her input on something. 

“What,” the midfielder mumbled as her cheeks flushed slightly, hoping she wasn’t caught. 

Leah followed her eyes that were drifting to you every so often, a knowing smirk gracing the blonde’s face. “You should tell Y/N how you feel,” she nodded as she sipped her drink, watching as Lia’s eyes widened. 

Lia stuttered, trying to formulate a response. Her blush deepened as her teammates laughed at her expression. “W-what are you talking about?” she finally said, clearing her throat once she had finished speaking. 

Steph rolled her eyes and shot her a knowing look. “C’mon, Lia,” the defender laughed softly. “I think everyone knows you have feelings for her,” she finished as she sat back against the seat. 

Lia didn’t respond, unsure of if she could lie her way out of this conversation. Her eyes wandered back to you, though you were no longer in your seat. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she scanned the cramped bar, finally finding you leaned up against the bar as you waited for a drink. Her teammates gave up trying to get her attention, they could tell they weren’t going to get much from her tonight. 

Lia watched as some woman moved to stand next to you, an obvious flirtation glint in her eyes that Lia could see from her seat. Her jaw clenched watching the woman touch your arm and her jealousy grew when you didn’t pull away. 

“Excuse me,” she muttered as she pushed herself out of the booth, not caring to listen to if her friends responded. 

Leah, Kim, and Steph watched as Lia made her way toward you, the trio was glad their friend finally grew a pair and was going to do something about her crush. 

“Hi,” Lia said, putting on a fake smile once she was by your side. Her hand moved to hold on to your bicep. You turned to smile at her, but your expression changed when you saw the annoyed look on her face. 

“Hi, Lia,” you hummed, your attention fully on her rather than the woman at the bar. You have had a crush on the Swiss captain for a few months, but you kept it to yourself since you weren’t sure she would feel the same way. 

“Can I talk to you,” she asked, her eyes dropping to your lips quickly before meeting your gaze again. “Outside,” she nodded her head toward the entrance of the bar. 

You downed the rest of your drink and gave the woman at the bar a small smile before letting Lia drag you outside. You missed the trio Lia was sitting with shoot her subtle thumbs up, your focus solely on the woman’s hand in yours. 

Once you were outside, the cold air sobered you up quickly while you moved further down the street, away from the bar. “What’s up,” you asked once you two came to a stop. 

Lia didn’t answer, rather she let the silence build between you as her eyes held your gaze. She was fighting in her mind, debating if she should just say what she was feeling or come up with some sort of lie. Her eyes dropped to your lips once more and she threw caution to the wind, her hands pulling on the jacket you were wearing. 

Your lips met in a heated kiss and it took you a second to realize what was happening. Though, once you came to your senses, your hands wrapped around her waist as the kiss grew deeper. Lia moaned softly against your lips, her hands moving up to lock around your neck to pull you closer to her.

You pulled away after a moment when you needed air, your chest panting slightly. “What was that for,” you huffed, your hands still tight around her body. 

“I didn’t like how she was touching you,” her voice had dropped slightly and her annoyance with the woman inside was evident in her tone. 

You exhaled with a small smirk on your face as you moved a hand to her chin tilting her head up slightly. “Were you jealous, Lia,” you grinned, your thumb tracing her bottom lip. 

“I don’t need to be,” she lied, and she knew you could tell she was but you didn’t call her out on it. 

“Why’s that,” you teased, your smirk growing. 

Lia didn’t respond verbally, instead, she sucked your thumb into her mouth, sucking as she held eye contact with you. She let you pull the digit from her mouth after a moment, her voice slightly raspy as she responded, “I could show you why.” 

You raised a brow at her words, intrigued by her confidence. “You’d think you be in control,” you teased. 

“Obviously,” she smirked, once again lying but the game you two were playing was turning her on. 

“My place is closer,” you started, shrugging as you licked your lips. “If you wanna prove it.” 

Lia bit her lip and nodded, letting you lead her in the direction of your house, which was within walking distance of the bar. You two all but jogged with how eager you were. Lia, eager to try and be in control, and you, eager to prove her wrong. 

The second you had the door unlocked, you pulled Lia inside and your lips were on her’s once again. This kiss was more messy and rushed, biting at each other’s lips as you shoved your shoes off. You guided her through your house and to your bedroom, your hands pulling at each other’s shirts the whole way there. 

You turned to sit on the edge of the bed once you were in the bedroom, pulling Lia to straddle your lap. Lia moaned softly against your lips, her hips grinding softly before she halted her movements. In the midst of being pulled from the bar and arriving home, it had slipped your mind you were packing. 

“You were expecting to sleep with someone,” Lia commented more to herself rather than to you, her jaw tight with jealousy once more. 

You wore a sheepish smile as you looked up at her, your hand tight on her hip. “Well, we all have needs,” you panted softly while pulling her closer. 

Lia rolled her eyes as she moved herself to the side. Her hands moved down to the buttons of your jeans, her fingers quickly undoing the buttons. “Take this off,” she huffed as she stood from the bed completely to strip. 

You watched as she let her clothes fall to the floor, your eyes lingering on every new part of her body. Lia raised an eyebrow once she was naked, her eyes dropping to your pants. You chuckled but listened, giving her a little control before you took it from her later. 

Your pants and underwear hit the floor and you pushed your body up the bed, watching as you waited for Lia to make her next move. The midfielder took her time climbing up the bed, her eyes locked with yours the entire time. Lia straddled your hips, the toy between your leg brushing her cunt earning a small whine from her lips. 

You moved to sit up, trying to reach her lips but a firm push to your chest had your back pressed against the mattress once more. You stared up at her with a smirk but didn’t try to move again, her hand pressing on your chest made it difficult anyway. 

“You’re not in control, Y/N,” she teased with a surge of confidence. You nodded along despite not believing her but you were intrigued to see what she had in store. 

Lia leaned down until her lips ghosted yours, the hand on your chest slipping lower on your body until it met the base of the dildo harnessed around your hips. She guided the tip of the toy through her folds, small moans echoing against your lips while her brows furrowed in pleasure. 

You swallowed watching her face, enjoying the expressions she was making. Lia slipped the toy inside, moving to sink her hips down until she met the base of the strap. “Fuck,” she gasped as she sat up, her hand moving back to the center of your chest. 

You moved your hands to hold her hips, your chest raising as she slowly started moving her hips. “You look good from this angle,” you teased as you moved to prop your feet on the bed to give you better movement of your hips. 

“Shut up,” she gasped, a light blush coating her cheeks as her hips sped up. She pressed harder on your chest as she rode the toy buried inside her, broken moans echoing off your bedroom walls. 

You gripped her hips tighter, grunts falling from your lips as the harness brushed your clit with each thrust of her hips. Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, small whines of Lia’s name leaving your lips. Lia smirked down at you in triumph, thinking that she had the upper hand. 

“I-I’m close,” she grunted after some time, her hips starting to falter as her thighs burned from her thrusting. You nodded in agreement but you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. 

With a loud moan of your name, she came as her hips stilled. Lia panted above you, her nails clawing at your chest as she fought to catch her breath. You came with her, the pressure on your clit combined with watching her ride you was enough to send you over the edge. 

“See, told you I was in control,” she had a pleased grin on her face when she was able to speak. You exhaled with a small laugh, smirking up at her with a glint in your eyes. 

Lia was too weak to push you back down when you sat up, your hands holding her hips tightly as you flipped your positions. Lia gasped in surprise when her back hit your mattress, a hoarse moan following quickly after the strap that was still inside her brushed her g-spot. 

“Doesn’t look like it anymore, hmm,” you teased, moving your hands to rest on either side of her head to keep yourself hovering above her. 

Lia tried to respond but a well-timed thrust of your hips cut her off. You chuckled at her, loving having reduced her to not speaking. You moved your hips slowly, teasing her. “Nothing to say now, Lia,” you asked, your hips starting to speed up. 

Lia’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, still unable to respond verbally. Her hands moved to your back, her nails leaving crescent indents as she dug her nails into your skin. Your hips snapped against hers, small grunts leaving your lips from the pleasure you were getting from the harness. 

“P-please – fuck – I’m-,” her begging was cut off when you moved her leg to rest around your waist, thrusting into her with a new angle. 

You smirked down at her before leaning down to kiss her. The kiss was messy, neither of you could keep up because of her moans. Lia’s hands slipped down your back, her fingers digging into your lower back as she let loud cries of your name fall from her lips. 

She clenched around the toy, making it harder to move as she came for a second time that night. You moved as best as you could, searching for an orgasm of your own as you helped her ride out her high. You came with a grunt of her name, your hips starting to stutter. 

You paused your movements, panting above her as she did the same. You gave her time to recover before kissing her again, this time a bit more put together. “You okay,” you asked once you broke apart, your voice raspy. 

Lia nodded while biting her lip. “Yeah,” she smiled up at you, her hands moving to the sides of your neck to pull you into another kiss. 

Your hips subconsciously jerked, a whine leaving her lips as the kiss broke. “Sorry,” you laughed but didn’t pull out. “Got one more in ya,” you joked slightly with a smirk. 

Lia pulled you closer to whisper against your lips, “More than one.” Your smirk grew and you were filled with a newfound energy, ready to see if she was right. 

The rest of the night and into the early morning was spent pulling as many orgasms as you could from the midfielder. This wasn’t how you imagined telling her about your feelings but you weren’t complaining. You two would have a lot to talk about once you woke up but thankfully you had an off day so there was no need to rush the moment you were awake. You were both grateful that you both finally said something. 

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

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Taglist: @jsprien213 @toast-on-dandelioms @plsfckmedxddy @lilyalone @sydneyyyya @yandere-wishes @cxcilla @nemesis-writer @sadslasher13

You remember standing in the corner of some large social hall for some sort of charity gala that was being held that your family was invited to attend, of course an event would never be complete without your family’s presence, especially your father. You could not drink yet so these events could not be dulled down for you in the slightest. You were the only one who came, your brothers and sisters got off from going by covering your father’s patrol until the party was over and you prayed for it to be over so you could go back to the manor. Your father was talking to some old former politician and during their conversation you had been able to slip away or rather your father let you slip away, he knew exactly what you were doing after all he always did. 

You recognized a few people at the party, mostly just faces you commonly saw at these sort of events like the mayor, Lucius Fox on occasion, Harvey Dent before his accident, but most of these people really did not know you besides your reputation as Bruce Wayne’s little daughter, his princess, though now that did not fit you much anymore as you were almost eighteen, you were a young woman at this point in your life. 

Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, you turned your head around to the person standing next to you that you failed to notice, Gabriel Christel, your boyfriend that only your mother approved of you having. You glanced around again, your father was still in a conversation with his back facing you and he stood probably a hundred feet away, he would not notice right away that you were gone. You turned to Gabriel and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him along and out of the party and into the back halls of the hotel the party was being held at, your fast walking turning into strolling once you reached where no one would be able to see you.

“You didn’t tell me that you would be here.” You spoke to him with a smile and he laughed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. “Last minute invite?”

“No, my mom had a meeting tonight and she sent me to go instead, the heir of the family and all.” He sighed, glancing up at some of the old paintings on the hotel’s walls. “I hoped to talk to some potential models for my mom’s new line but it seems they aren’t exactly interested in talking business with, oh what did she call me again… right, an attractive and single young man.”

“Well one of those two things is certainly not true.” You teased, your arms coming to wrap around his left arm as you walked down the hall, resting your head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re eighteen.”

“Hm… your birthday is in a month, you’ll be an adult too, I’m only two months older than you.”

“I don’t think it really matters if I am an adult or not, my old man hardly lets me out of the house these days, especially after that one Joker incident two weeks ago, so I doubt he’ll let me go to university or anything like that, especially out of state.” You hummed, the vibrations of your voice rumbling against his suit jacket. “Where are you thinking about for college?”

“I think I’m gonna go to Gotham City University.”

“What?” His answer shocked you, he was going to be the valedictorian of your class and especially at your school that was practically a guarantee to go wherever he wanted. “Didn’t you get accepted into a few Ivy league schools or what about the foreign exchange you told me about the other day-”

“I am staying in Gotham because of what is in this city, my family, my future, my inheritance, and most importantly you are here.” You felt your face heat up at his words and he smiled, leaning over to rest his head on top of your own. “If you can’t go somewhere with me then I will stay here with you.”

“You are sometimes too romantic, you know that right?” 

“Mmm, ya.” He laughed, you could feel his warm breath tickling your hair and the top of your head. “But is it too romantic to tell you I would burn the world for you?”

“A bit cheesy, and don’t tell my dad that, he would probably never let you within a mile of me again.”

“I would like to see him try.”

…

If you knew what he actually meant by that.

______________________

It was surprisingly cold as Gabriel led you down the hallways or wherever the hell you were, the air felt cold and it did not help that you were only wearing stockings to cover your feet as you walked down the marble floor beneath you, when you were changed out of your suit you were laying in a bed and you don’t exactly wear shoes to bed, there were probably shoes in the room you woke up in most likely in one of the dresser drawers or stored underneath the bed, but you honestly were too out of your own head because of the after effects of the drugs to even thing to look there. So now as you walked down the hallway there was the soft pitter patter of your thin cloth covered feet following behind Gabriels dress shoes which made a soft click against the marble floor

As you turned a corner you noticed there was a vast increase in the temperature which only got warmer as you approached a set of heavy wooden doors. Gabriel let go of your hand so he could push open the set of doors and your eyes went wide with what you saw, honestly you did not know how to even explain it. The room was entirely marble, but on the ground you saw what looked to be red coffins embedded into the marble floor and it was not just a few of them, but rows and rows of red coffins.

“What… what is this?” You watched as Gabriel walked ahead of you, slowly, looking down at the red coffins as he reached up to remove his mask, seeing a gleeful look in his eye as he did so.

“I always felt I recognized your brother from some place, your oldest brother, Richard.” You watched him pause in his tracks, looking down at one particular red coffin, a heavy look of disdain in his eye. “Now my parents never took me to the circus because they found it tacky, but now to say the court has dealings everywhere and well we need something strong to back up our words.”

“These… these are like that assassin…” You glanced down at a red coffin at your feet, your face cringing at the thought of what may be inside, a living person maybe or perhaps something that is already dead or somewhere in between the two, undead or like something similar to a Lazarus Pit that is used by your half brother’s grandfather. “Talons, right? But what does this have to do with Dick?”

“Hmm you know the rhyme… that makes me glad…” His words did not match his emotionless glare but his lack of care in his face was not aimed at you but whoever was inside that red box. “Did you know that your brother was supposed to become a Talon… but then his parents were killed and your father took him in, tragic really he did have so much potential.”

“He… he was a child when that happened…” You paused in your words and slowly turned about the room, taking in the sight of the rows upon rows of perfectly aligned red coffins. “You groom children into becoming assassins… oh my god…”

“We aren’t the only ones who have committed such a sin, besides it is for the greater good, and not all of them were children, and on top of that most of them did this willingly.” Gabriel shook his head, his arms crossing and his grip on his mask growing tighter and you were sure that if it were a more fragile material it might have broken. “I should have known that you would not have understood.”

“You are right… I don’t understand and no one should because this is sick.” There was a moment's pause between your words and you swallowed down hard, maybe too hard that your ears popped a little bit. “I don’t want anything to do with this, this is not helping Gotham, it is destroying it, you are going to rip this city to shreds and nothing will be left standing especially if you try to try to destroy the league… you will not win because they will just keep coming back again and again.”

“And that’s not your problem anymore, after all you did promise me that when we get married you will get rid of the mask and also trust me when I say the other members of the court will not exactly welcome you because of your recent actions, and besides I like seeing your face too much and a mask would just hide that, but if you decided to be transparent with me, even after four years, I should be transparent with you as well.” He took a step forward towards you, spinning around his white owl mask in his right hand. “And do not worry about the League of Assassins my dear, after all when they come into my city and threaten my court, then I will tear them apart limb from limb.”

“You won’t get the chance with Ra’s Al Ghul, he will destroy you…” You glanced around again, wondering why they were in red coffins of all things. Ra’s Al Ghul was immortal because of the Lazarus Pit, but there was no Lazarus Pit in Gotham to your knowledge, and they would not be in coffins if they were mortal or just regular assassins. “...This is because of what you are doing here… Talons are partially immortal aren’t they? That’s why the League is in Gotham, because they found out about this and don’t want a potential threat to their mission.”

“Sometimes I wish you were not so smart, but unfortunately they are indeed not perfect, but after this they will be.” With those words Gabriel just confirmed they do have a weakness, a weakness that would most likely be their undoing, you did not exactly feel bad about killing a bunch of undead assassins. You watched as Gabriel glanced around the coffins as if trying to find a certain one as he walked over to you, his hand coming to snake around your waist. “I know your brother’s great grandfather is around here somewhere, and I believe I remember hearing about a certain one of his targets… your great great grandfather if I am correct, funny isn’t it? Family history.”

“I really do not find it that funny.” You also did not find it exactly funny that the League of Assassins were your allies now. You mentally paused, you did not have your things that you had when you were kidnapped, which included the scarf Talia gave you on behalf of her father, the sight of it would definitely ring alarms for any member of the League of Assassins. “Gabriel…”

“Yes?”

“I had a scarf with me under my suit… Do you have it?”

“Hmm… I do not, it must have fallen out, I can always buy you a new one, love.”

“No it’s fine… it was just from someone important.”

It was only a matter of time before one of them found that scarf and either Ra’s Al Ghul or Talia Al Ghul would lose it and come looking for you and you would make your escape before the smoke cleared. The worst case scenario was if you were not able to get away in time and Ra’s or Talia decided to grab you like a kitten by the scruff of your neck and make the decision that you were not able make choices for yourself after somehow getting yourself kidnapped after you decided to lie to Damian and sneak out to Arkham Asylum. Honestly, you did not want to see an upset Ra’s Al Ghul or Talia Al Ghul, for all you knew you could be waking up halfway across the world in a compound of the League of Assassins.

______________________

Clove stood on top of the building, patrolling and investigating, paired off with Robin and Nightwing. It was nearing dawn and Clove at least had never been out on patrol for this long before, she yawned, her arms stretching up like a cat and both heads of the young men turned to her and your friend went red in the face. “Sorry, long night, you all know how it is.”

“Ya, we do.” Nightwing replied, patting her on the back as they walked across the empty rooftop, attempting to figure out where you went and find a path you may have left behind. There was another long draw of silence before Nightwing spoke up again. “You don’t seem the type to be doing this sort of thing, you seem like a good kid, why are you here?”

“I… I don’t really like talking about my past… but it’s been awhile since it happened…” Clove sighed, crossing her arms, normally she would not talk about this sort of thing but the exhaustion and stress was finally getting to her. “My mom died a few years back from a terminal disease, it’s genetic so chances I’ll get it too. I was tired of being treated like I was gonna break if I breathed wrong, I wasn’t sick yet so decided I wanted to do something useful with my life before I go. The Police Academy wouldn’t take me because I didn’t pass their physical exam at the time so now I’m here, definitely would pass it now.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been hard for you.”

“You’re not sorry, after all you treat your sister the exact same way.” Clove pushed Nightwing’s hand away, walking off closer to the roof’s edge to move on. “She’s told us the stories, but actually it was worse for her.”

The two other vigilantes watched her swing off the rooftop and Damian grew a scowl on his face at Clove’s all too real words, he glanced up at the older hero and Nightwing had an uncomfortable look on his face as he watched Clove swing onto another rooftop. “I don’t like her.”

“Give it a rest, she’s helping us.”

______________________

Bruce walked back into his shared bedroom, it was easily mid morning by now and Bruce was only forced back upstairs to rest by Alfred with the promise that Barbara and Tim would work with Mr. Austen to try to follow any leads on your location before they all head out again. Your -;/;mother was sitting up in bed, having been oblivious to the current situation of your disappearance, as far as she knew you had left of your own freewill and they were just trying to pin you down again. She was reading a newspaper and was still in her pajamas, clearly having woken up.

“Good Morning, Bruce.” She spoke up, she set her newspaper aside on the side table rather quickly as Bruce stepped over to press a kiss just above her brow. He had already showered and changed from patrol so he slid into bed alongside his wife. “Long patrol tonight, did something happen?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now.” He groaned and wrapped one of his muscular arms under her arm and up her back, pulling her close to him, tucking her head under his chin. “Just go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”

She honestly did not want to go back to sleep, one of the many things she hated about her marriage was the messed up sleep schedule she got from sleeping in the same bed as Bruce, coming home in the early mornings and just wanting to hold her when he was drifting off as if he was scared she was going to disappear all over again like she did when she called off their original engagement over twenty years ago.

“Hm… Alfred got you the paper already?” Bruce spoke, reaching for the newspaper but in a quick reaction your mother pulled him close, wrapping her own arms around him as if an attempt to stay warmer. Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, it was not unusual for her to do this especially when the manor could be quite cold, but it was her accelerated heart rate that indicated to him that something was most definitely wrong. Bruce just let out a heavy sigh before he shifted, sitting up in bed and letting go of his wife and she could only watch as Bruce reached over for the newspaper, and when he picked it up there was an additional weight to it, and out of the newspaper fell a piece of paper, a letter, but no envelope so it meant that it was hand delivered, someone did not want risking anyone reading the contents of it. Bruce picked it up the letter and glanced the contents over, words and phrases like ‘your daughter’, ‘Arkham Asylum’, ‘divorce’, ‘blackmail’, ‘potential abuse case’ caught is eye long with the handwriting, it was clearly Harvey Dent, he must have bribed a guard at Arkham to get it delivered. 

“Bruce, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it right now.” Bruce cut off his wife, he stood up again from bed, he did not even look at her. Bruce knew that it was not his wife who made contact, it would have been impossible for her to do so, this was the work of you, their daughter. “I have to make some calls  to the head of Arkham Security and to the GCPD, just… just stay here right now, we need to talk later.”

[amascomet]

Hello I was wondering if you have more stuff on the TMNT Spliced Au and how the comic is going?

Ah thank you for your interest! I’ve got so much but also literally nothing haha. End of last year was particularly rough for me so I had to take a break from working on it. Love TMNT GS but I won’t lie and say it’s not emotionally draining, wish I could beam it into all of your heads! Here’s a huge dump of random assortments I have from developing it.

COMIC UPDATES - peep the sketch for the cover, cool right?

I finished thumbnailing the first 34 pages of #1, but only one page has been fully completed. ⚰️ I’ve never made a comic before, so I’m doing a lot of learning with this. Most of the delay just comes from the fact that I love to design and I’m very crazy about details so that means I’m easily getting caught up in reading books, building little 3D sets, designing props n vehicles, ect.

I get so caught up in the visual worldbuilding cause its my favorite thing to do lol. I feel really bad when I stop working on pages in because my brain is like OK WAIT I NEED TO DESIGN THE GUNS, THE LABS, AND STOCKMANS CAR KEYS. Its really silly. I do wanna keep chipping at the comic, but at this point I've written and planned so much of the lore I kinda just wanna make it all public so I can talk about it. I'm constantly torn about it cause its like oof whats the point of making the comic if I'm just gonna talk about all the spoilers. With how this years going, I'm starting to lean into more of lemme just be free and do whatever I want!

Table of contents from the lore bible I'm still chipping away at. I'd love to just drop updates for it if that's something people would be interested in.

Alternatively, the idea of just releasing scripts for it has crossed my mind. #1 has a general outline, but I'd actually would just love to go back and detail, refine it, and drop that for now until the visuals of the comic are done.

I'm actually going to test the waters now and link a script for a scene from The Farmhouse arc I wrote a couple of months ago. If that's something people would be interested in, I'd love to know!

ART DUMP MOMENT -

Various other little development sketches and a new character or two omg

OK I KNOW THAT WAS A BIT OF A RAMBLE, FORGIVE ME! But yup thats it! TDLR; GS is in development hell and I'm waiting for ya'll to give me the greenlight to just start talking crazy. I've got multiple seasons/arcs to gush about.

[writingdevil]

Hello! In honor of cheabroken being canon in Tongues and Teeth, I wanted to request their first kiss! Did it come naturally after being comfortable with each other for so long? Was it an awkward attempt after Stubborn interrupted them last time? Or maybe Contrarian was right and they really are worse than Smitten haha (considering how passionate they both are about their feelings, I can totally see it)

Either way, I wanted to thank you! I love how you write all the voices and the dynamics between them (even if I have very clear favorites), and I always get excited when you post a new story. I hope you have a great day and a wonderful life :)

(OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A SWEET ASK!Thank you and I hope that YOU have an amazing day and an even more amazing life!Thank you for your sweet words, I love hearing that people get excited whenever I post stuff.It's mad to think that two months ago, I was just reblogging stuff and not interacting THAT much with any fandom, and now I'm making you all happy with my writing!Anyways-Cheabroken!Yes!I love them and I'm so happy to write more of them!Enjoy!)

Cheated has never been more stressed in his fucking life.

The entire week, he's been wracked with anxiety and stress so bad, that he finally understood and sympathized with Paranoid.

Cheated worked nonstop just for this day-he went over everything that he would say, he made sure all the preparations were in order, and he did everything he could to make sure that nothing went wrong for him.It almost felt like he was asking for something bad to happen.

The reason why he was so stressed, was because today was the day that Cheated was going to ask Broken out.

He's known about his feelings for Broken for awhile. Ever since they were gifted their own bodies and they had that argument with Smitten and Skeptic all those months ago, Cheated had found himself getting more and more drawn to Broken.At first, it had just been the obligation to give Broken room to air his thoughts, without others either putting pressure on him or putting him down.

Cheated believed that they were all a part of the Long Quiet for a reason, and that every voice meant something to Him, so thinking that one voice was lesser than the others was an insane thought to Cheated.They were all shards of the same mirror.They had all been important to Him, once upon a time.

That kindness obviously extended to Broken as well, who had been so devastated and terrified at realising that his princess was no longer with him, leaving him feeling lost and worthless. It had been scarily easily for Smitten and Skeptic to pick him up, and practically whisk him away for their goal. Cheated had been too confused at the time to really understand what was going on, but he got there in the end.

At the start, Cheated believed that he needed to be the person that stuck up and talked for Broken, because otherwise Broken would just let everyone walk all over him. When they were arguing with Smitten and Skeptic, Cheated was surprised at how Broken actually stood up for himself pretty well, and then he was even more surprised at the screaming match he had with Stubborn, but he was surprised in such a positive way.

Broken was slowly but surely picking himself up and making himself move forward, even if he had very little belief in himself or his abilities-but Cheated couldn't help but admire everything about Broken.To be someone so lost in sorrow, but refusing to back down-that was exactly the type of strength and resolve that Cheated wished he had.

Cheated didn't need to defend Broken as much as he thought he did, but he still found himself being drawn in by his quiet brilliance and his kind and empathetic heart, and over the course of a few months, was spending all his free time with Broken.

He wasn't sure when he realised that he was falling in love with Broken. All he knew was that he was beginning to come to terms with how much he just stared at Broken, at his hypnotic eyes and his small, fluffy feathers that were finally growing back in. He would sit and stare and not even register what someone was saying because he was too busy thinking about how fucking pretty Broken was. Seriously, why wasn't Broken the one being worshipped?Cheated would've happily become a devoted follower.

Then it was thoughts like that-that made him think that maybe his feelings weren't quite platonic.

After that, it quickly dawned on him how flustered and nervous he got around Broken, or how his thoughts would be pulled back to thinking about Broken and what he was doing, or admiring how he smiled or laughed sometimes,or even daydreaming about what Broken would say to him in certain situations.

He believed that these thoughts were normal, until Stubborn managed to clock him in the face one day, all because he apparently looked 'worse than Smitten when talking about his darling.'

That was the smack in the face he needed.Literally.

He was in love with Broken.

With that realisation, came feelings of both horror and nerves, because Cheated wasn't sure if it was fair to Broken to pour his heart out to him, after how his last 'relationship' went.Would a relationship be something that Broken even wanted anymore?If Cheated asked and Broken said yes, would he only be saying that in the name of self preservation, to keep Cheated happy and himself safe?

Cheated hated the thought of doing that to Broken, of making him revert back to his old ways, and a part of him wanted to just keep these feelings to himself forever, for Broken's sake.

But then that other louder, and angrier side of him, smacked him upside the head, because assuming those things about Broken was ignoring all the growth and progress he had made in the last few months, and it was just making Cheated look like a dickhead.

Broken wasn't some sad and scared little creature that couldn't think for himself.He's proved Cheated wrong on that front many times, and each time made Cheated admire Broken more and more.Sure, he had moments where he didn't feel like getting out of bed and doing anything, or thoughts that made him believe that he didn't deserve to be here, but he had a whole flock to lean on.

Of course Cheated was there, and he was happy to take Broken on walks to help him clear his head and go outside more, and everyone else cared about him as well. Paranoid fretted over his wellbeing and if he was eating enough, Hero helped get his wings back to a much more healthy state, and even Smitten was doing his best to help, teaching him about gardening and caring for plants, and it all looked like it was helping Broken tremendously.

Broken was getting better, and Cheated would make sure to treat Broken with nothing less than pure love and respect, and he would make sure that Broken knew that every step of their relationship.

If he said yes.

That was the fear that had been clinging to Cheated all week-that Broken would say no, because getting fucked over at a time like this seemed to be exactly the type of thing to happen to Cheated.

Which was why he was so stressed, because he was doing everything in his power for this night to not go wrong, which-given who Cheated was, seemed like an impossible task.But he was nothing if not a fighter for what he believed in.

He had planned to take Broken out into a peaceful and secluded part of the woods, have a nice dinner, and at the end, Cheated would confess his feelings, and hope his heart didn't get crushed into a million pieces.

He had thought of and planned for everything that could potentially go wrong tonight.He asked Hunted to help him find the perfect spot to take Broken, trusting the other's judgement. He also needed to make sure nobody interrupted them or swooped Broken away at the last minute, so he pleaded to Oppy and Paranoid to make sure that nobody bothered them, and although they laughed at his desperation, they agreed.

Finally, the food.As much as Cheated wanted to make it, he knew that he would either somehow poison it or burn it to a crisp, so he enlisted someone else to do it.

He was extremely hesitant to ask Smitten, their resident chef, because once Smitten got a whiff of romance in the air, there would be no stopping his delusions and over the top ideas for the quiet date Cheated wanted, so he was pleasantly surprised to find that Hero could cook, and he happily agreed to do it for him, merely wishing him luck and that they find happiness together.

That did bring a tear to Cheated's eye, not that he'd ever admit it.

The one and only thing that Cheated couldn't account for was the weather.So he spent hours last night kneeling and praying to the Long Quiet or the Shifting Mound, or anyone that took pity on him, that a storm wouldn't be dropped on Cheated's head tomorrow.

He woke up to clear skies.

Cheated no longer cared if he lived with the worst luck imaginable for the rest of his life, so long as today went perfectly.

-

"Where are we going?"

"It's a secret."

Cheated giggled as he kept his hands placed firmly over Broken's eyes, carefully guiding them to their private area. Broken had been confused, but very curious, as Cheated asked to take him somewhere.

He could feel Broken's feathers tensing underneath his palms, and he leaned closer so that he could whisper,"It's okay, you're gonna like this."

Despite his words, he felt Broken freeze and tense up beneath him, feathers fluffing up and tickling his hands.Thankfully, he didn't have to dwell on it for long, as he said,"Here we are."

He stopped, and let his arms fall, hearing Broken gasp as he took in the display.

They were in the middle of an area that consisted of soft, tame grass, as if from a field, with no jagged rocks or twisting weeds in sight, surrounded by a protective wall of imposing trees.In the middle of the grass, was a tree stump, which Cheated had chopped down himself, with many splinters to show for it. He had then chopped the tree further, making logs to use as seats on either side of their tree stump table.

The scent of food wafted over to them, and Cheated's mouth salivated at the smell of the vegetables and cooked meat Hero had prepared for them.

Broken spun back around to face him, eyes wide in shock and wonder, but Cheated just grinned in anticipation, gently turning him back around by the shoulders to the table, pointing up at the sky as he said,"Wait for it."

Broken obeyed, silently looking up-just in time for a cloud to float past, and letting the light of the moon spill down directly onto the table, illuminating the whole area in moonlight.

Broken gasped, and Cheated leaned over to look at his face.He seemed shocked, but happy, and happy was what Cheated was going for right now.

"Do you like it?"Cheated asked, and once those awestruck eyes were on him, he was suddenly hit with a wave of embarrassment and anxiety.His face heated up and he started to stumble over his words."I-I really hope you like it.I-um-did this for you-to give you a good time.Is-is it okay?"

Broken stared at him for a few seconds, before looking back out at all that Cheated had prepared. He raised a hesitant hand towards his chest and said,"You did all this-for me?"

"Yeah, of course!"Cheated wrapped an arm around Broken and started to walk him over to the table."I wanted to do something nice for you."

"You didn't have to,"Broken muttered, looking down at the ground.

Cheated rolled his eyes."I didn't have to, but I wanted to."

Broken still seemed unsure as they sat down, but Cheated allowed him a few minutes to get comfortable, until he eventually saw the tension and apprehension leave his body.Broken casted a wary glance out in the distance, and Cheated casually waved a hand in the air and said,"Oh, don't worry, we're not in any danger."

That wary look was then directed at Cheated, who couldn't help but think it looked cute."How do you know?"

"I had Hunted scout this place out for me.There's not a monster in sight, and I've got Hunted guarding the perimeter tonight, just in case."

"Really?"Broken gave him a surprised look, then glanced around them, pinning his eyes on a random spot of the dark trees, and Cheated chuckled as Broken lifted a hand and waved into the distance, seemingly saying hello to Hunted. Cheated had no idea where Hunted was right, only that he hadn't needed much convincing to guard them tonight, and Cheated weirdly felt way more safe and secure with Hunted around, because that was one less thing that could go wrong.

"You've-"Broken said,a suspicious tone in his voice as he took in all of Cheated's work,"put a lot of thought into this.Why?"

Cheated gave him a soft smile, reaching over and placing a hand atop of his, his thumb brushing knuckles.Broken froze, and stared down at their hands, feathers shooting up in surprise.Cheated's voice was surprisingly calm as he said,"I just wanted to make sure you had a good time tonight."

Broken let a breath out, and Cheated hoped he hadn't done anything wrong yet, but the feeling of Broken's full attention on him was beginning to make the butterflies in his stomach turn into a raging stampede, so he quickly took his hand back, missing the disappointment on Broken's face, and motioned down at his food."Let's dig in, yeah?"

-

Dinner was great.

But spending a whole evening with Broken was even better.

The longer the night went on, the more fond and utterly in love Cheated was becoming with Broken. He loved the light yet strong tone he held in his voice, and the way his eyes shone and gave away everything he was feeling.He loved catching the moments where Broken would subconsciously trace invisible doodles with his finger along the tree stump table, and Cheated just longed to see what they could be like.

But eventually, their food had been eaten, the conversation was beginning to dim from energy, and Cheated knew that his moment had come.

He took a shaky breath in, briefly wondering if Paranoid's chant would work for him right now, and stared down as he softly took Broken's hands within his, prompting Broken to slowly stop what he was saying.

Cheated glanced up at him, his cheeks feeling on fire, as he took in Broken's soft confusion."Broken," Cheated began, desperately trying to keep his voice steady and calm and to not fuck this up.

"I really hope I made you happy tonight,"he said, and Broken stiffly nodded."Yeah, of course you did. I'm always happy when I'm with you."The words sent an addicting warmth through his bones, and he had to use all his control to stop his smile from spreading to one of those stupid and lovey dovey ones that Smitten was known to wear.

"That's such a relief to hear,"he said, squeezing their hands once for reassurance,"because there's something I've really wanted to tell you for awhile."

"What?"Broken quietly said, and Cheated found it easier to speak when he was just staring down at their hands, reminding him of the reason he was doing all this.

"Broken, I think you're one of the most beautiful and inspiring people I know.You're so empathetic and strong, whether you realise it or not.You've been through so much, but you're still here, fighting and proving your demons wrong-that you are worthy of love and happiness, and I'm so fucking honored to be a part of your life and to watch you slowly believe that, because I've always thought that way about you.I've always-cared about you, but for awhile, my feelings for you have grown stronger."

He gulped."Broken-I'm in love with you, and I wanted to show you that I can treat you the way you deserve to be treated-with nothing less than love and respect and complete care.So, I just wanted to tell you all this, because I'll go crazy if I don't tell you how you make me feel just by being around your beautiful self-and if you feel the same way, maybe we can-"

But Cheated never got the chance to finish his confession, as Broken gripped his face and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

He was stunned, but quickly melted into the kiss, not willing to turn down a golden opportunity like this.

God, even kissing Broken felt warm. But not in an intense, mind spinning way. No, this warmth felt safe, it felt like nothing but the two of them mattered in this moment, and all Cheated had to focus on was Broken.It felt happy.It felt right.

Home.The kiss felt like home.

Then suddenly, Broken pulled them apart, panting with a worried and frantic look on his face.Cheated could do nothing but stare in amazement as Broken began to ramble,"Sorry!Sorry!I-I didn't mean to ruin your moment!"Broken started to absent-mindedly grip his hands for comfort, whether he was aware of it or not, but Cheated still squeezed them to calm the other down.

Broken was looking everywhere that wasn't Cheated."I just-I just-I heard what you were saying, and with what you did tonight, I had a feeling that you were going to-and-and-"

"Broken,"Cheated calmly said, stopping the other in his panic.Broken looked up in surprise, and Cheated felt his hands bring gripped tightly, as he watched Broken take a deep and slow breath in. Cheated smiled at the now more relaxed state Broken was in.

Broken continued, much more calm this time,"I knew what you were going to say-and I felt like I needed to be the one to bridge that gap.I-I can't explain it, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay,"Cheated said, tugging on their hands to get Broken's attention."I honestly didn't mind it-it was actually really nice."Broken giggled, and Cheated grinned wider at the sound."But that just means that I'm still waiting."

Broken looked up at him in confusion."Waiting?For what?"Cheated gave him a playful grin."For you to ask me out."Broken was surprised for a second, his wings flapping once in shock, before he smiled bashfully and asked,"Cheated, I'm in love with you. Do you want to be my partner?"

Cheated smiled so hard that it hurt, but he didn't care.He was the luckiest bastard in this shitty world."I would love to be your partner, Broken.I love you."

Then they both leaned in for another kiss, and Cheated's life was now perfect.

[hopelessnicotine]

everything i have ever learned about john lennon's sexual habits or psychological quirks has been against my will. i never wanted to know this stuff i just liked his bombastic bridge sections in mid-70s compositions such as nobody loves you (when you're down and out) but NO of COURSE the beatles tag on tumblr is going to tell me that he had an mpreg fantasy and now i can't escape it because i looked up "beatles memes" on here once and i don't want to block the "the beatles" tag because it's funny

[chocochat]

i miss my dog

[theinfinitedivides]

said a prayer for Jjong today.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I guess I have to suck it up and admit that, yeah, despite myself, against my own wishes, I suppose I do love that damn Gojo Satoru guy after all

[learn-and-accept]

Birth control is great because no periods and no babies, but also it made me incredibly paranoid that my girlfriend hated me/was cheating on me, made me want to violently injure every single person that was even mildly annoying, threw me into a really bad depressive episode, caused my ocd to go absolutely rampant, and made me have so many panic attacks for absolutely no reason

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[indefiniteavatar]

So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.

I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.

[off-brand-orpheus]

Am I still the person you loved two months ago?

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon was seething. Never had he been so viscerally angry, his temper dangerously towing the tight rope that was his self control. You’d almost been killed. You’d been shot, and you were damn lucky that it hadn’t been fatal.

He found you on the roof later that night, no longer hiding the pain the bullet wound in your side had caused once you thought you were alone. It took all of two seconds of him seeing you hurting like that for him to snap.

“The fuck were you thinking out there, Y/N?!” His voice echoed in the night air, causing you to flinch slightly. “Do please tell me you’ve got a reasonable explanation for what happened.”

“Simon, please just calm down for a minute.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and it only fueled his anger more.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Simon bellowed, his self control rapidly slipping out of his grasp. “You almost fuckin’ died, Y/N!”

Simon hated the way you flinched, hated the way you backed up ever so slightly away from him, but he couldn’t control himself. He had almost lost you.

“I know that, Simon. I know. But I don’t regret what went down.” You forced your voice steady, your eyes not leaving his as you attempted to stand your ground. “I-.”

“You don’t regret almost getting shot? Y/N, you’re not on this team to make reckless decisions. If I knew you’d be making choices like that, I’d have had Price kick you off the team months ago! Almost dying, for what? For what?!” Simon moved closer to you, the red in his vision nearly blinding, and this time you didn’t back away.

“For you, asshole!” You screamed, your hands reaching for Simon’s chest, pushing him as hard as you possibly could. Simon barely moved an inch before you screamed again. “For you! If I hadn’t taken that bullet, you would’ve died!”

Simon’s world stopped in that moment, the red vanishing from his vision, his heart coming to a slow halt in his chest as he absorbed your words. For him?

“He was aiming at you, Simon. If I hadn’t stepped in the way, we would’ve lost you. And I.” You trailed off, unable to look at the hulking man in front of you. “I don’t know, I didn’t hesitate, it was as if it was just instinct for me.”

Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the soft thud thud thud the only thing keeping him grounded. You’d saved him. You’d risked your life to save him.

You, the sweet soldier who always put others first. You, the one who’d always patched him up late at night, laughing at his shitty jokes. You, the one who understood him like nobody else. You, the one person in this godforsaken world that got him to lower the never ending walls within him. You, the one he’d unknowingly loved for years. Saved him.

“I know it was stupid, and if you want to kick me off of the team for it, fine. But I’d do it again.” You threw your hands up in the air, and Simon didn’t miss the way you winced from the pain in your side. “I don’t regret it.”

Simon only stared at you, his eyes betraying none of the inner turmoil that he was currently experiencing.

“I couldn’t lose you, Simon.” Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, your eyes falling on the lower half of his mask. “Not now, not ever. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that bullet hit you.”

Simon’s eyes found yours as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, incapable of moving. For the first time in his life, he truly didn’t know what to say.

He watched as you chewed your bottom lip, your eyes leaving his yet again as you looked down at your feet. God he wishes he could say something, anything, but as always words failed him around you.

“I’ve got to go report in to Price.” You said, slowly turning away from him to face the door. “I won’t apologize for what I did, but I’m sorry for causing you to doubt my ability to support the team. Have a good night, lieutenant.”

Watching you turn away from him had finally stirred something within him, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He had to make this right.

“Y/N.” Simon found his voice as you reached the roof’s door, causing you to turn to face him. “Wait.”

Your heart practically stopped beating upon finding Simon’s mask discarded, his face now fully bare for you to see. You weren’t sure what you had expected, once you’d finally seen him, but it certainly wasn’t this.

He was simply beautiful. Every scar, every small freckle, dimple, wrinkle had formed his face impeccably well, and you couldn’t help but stare at him as your mind ran completely blank.

You’d fallen for the masked man long ago, his dry humor, loyalty and bravery were something that’d you’d found yourself drawn to. You’d meant what you said to him about not regretting taking a bullet for him. You loved him. And truthfully couldn’t fathom a life without him.

“Now you see me.” Simon breathed, his eyes softening as he watched you take in every inch of his face. He should’ve felt vulnerable, shy even. But he didn’t. Not with you. He wanted you to see him, every imperfect inch of him.

He bared himself to you, let his face and eyes tell you everything he didn’t know how to express with words.

“I’ve always seen you, Simon Riley.” You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand softly cupped his cheek. “Always.”

And that was all it took for Simon to know he loved you.