#and maybe I'll start doing at least a chapter a week and get that much closer to publishing this

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter One (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference,Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the “Cryptid Rengoku” character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

Y/N Perspective.

It's early, too early. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. For weeks now, I've followed the same routine: waking up, wandering the forest surrounding my village, and searching. Every day, I look for a sign that something, or someone, is out there. Yet somehow, I always come up empty-handed. It's not just me, though. My entire group is burnt out on this whole thing.

Searching for monsters has never been a passion of mine, but when you're down to your last cent and someone offers you free food and board in exchange for your help, how can you say no?

I still remember when Miss Tamayo approached me. It was snowing hard up in the mountains, and she saw how badly I was struggling in the cold. She was kind, took me in, and talked to me at length about the mystical monsters and beings her group had been studying and searching for. I'll admit, it was interesting, but I didn't believe any of it was real.

We've all heard the tales—the stories of the creatures we now call the Hashira, the terrifying monsters that once protected their respective villages and residents. While they made for nice campfire stories, there was simply no way these beings existed. Even if they did, why would they stay hidden? Wouldn't they seek revenge on the villagers who used them and then cast them out? None of it made any sense to me.

Despite voicing my concerns and disbelief to Miss Tamayo, she still wanted to help me, as long as I was willing to help her. And that's why I'm here now.

I'm in the middle of this forest. The sky is grey and cloudy, with rain surely on the way. It's foggy, and visibility is poor. Since I'm new and have only been working with these monster hunters for a few weeks, they've given me a basic route—one that minimizes the risk of encountering a real threat. Tamayo wanted me to look for a special flower that supposedly grows around here, but I haven't had any luck yet.

If I can't even find a flower, I don't feel like I'll make a promising monster hunter. At least, that's what Yushiro, one of Tamayo's most relentless supporters, thinks. Though we are civil to each other's faces, he openly voices his concerns about having me around. He says it's a waste of time to bring along someone who doesn't even "believe in the cause."

I suppose I can't argue with him too much. I've walked this same route every day for a few weeks now and still haven't come across the flower Tamayo sent me to find. Maybe it really is a waste of time—

My thoughts are interrupted by a rustling sound in the distance. My body immediately tenses up. I glance around, but the thick fog makes it hard to see. All this talk and thinking about monsters and mythical creatures is starting to get to me.

What was that? Did I lose the path? No, that's just me overthinking it, thanks to Tamayo and Yushiro filling my head with stories. I'm just being paranoid.

The rustling resumes, this time from the opposite direction. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Tamayo? Yushiro? Is that you?" I call out into the fog.

I wait for their reply, but none comes. Adding to the unease, the air feels hotter now, and a strange clicking noise echoes through the area, growing closer and closer.

What should I do? Should I run?

As the clicking grew louder, I made up my mind and began to sprint through the fog, knocking branches and anything else in my path aside. At some point, I lost my footing. The trail must have ended, and I twisted my ankle on a tree root protruding from the ground.

My ears were filled with the sound of my own breathing, and it felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. This can't be happening. I was sent on an easy route to fetch a flower, not to be chased by some crazy monster.

I tried to stand, but the pain in my ankle was too much. I strained to stay silent and listened for the clicking sounds; they were faint but still there. I had to get out of here.

Grabbing onto the trunk of the tree I had tripped over, I pulled myself up. It hurt, but the adrenaline rush made it barely bearable.

The fog was finally starting to lift, and I could see the path I usually followed. I must have accidentally stepped off it while running. As long as I could get back, Tamayo would be able to help me with my ankle.

As I started to move slowly, a red light in the distance suddenly caught my attention. Squinting, I tried to make out what it could be and then realized it was two red lights, gradually moving closer to me.

Eyes.

Panic surged through me as I scrambled to move, trying to go as fast as my injured ankle would allow, grabbing onto anything I could for support.

This can't be happening. I refuse to believe any of this is real. How could all those stupid campfire stories be true? And why, out of all the monster hunters in Tamayo's group, did I have to be the unlucky one?

I wanted to scream and yell for help, but I was so deep in this forest nobody from the safe house would hear me.

It hurts. It hurts so much. It feels like my body is going to give out any minute, but my mind is racing, forcing me to keep moving.

The clicking is now accompanied by a deep growling, making it sound all the more intense. Whatever this thing was, it sounded terrifying. And those deep red eyes didn’t really help with my imagination.

Then it happened. I had to take a knee. The strain on my ankle kept getting worse the more I moved. I'm done for. Whatever this thing is, it's going to kill me.

At least Yushiro can look at my corpse and say, "I told you so."

As the clicking and growling got even closer, there was a small thump to the ground as whatever was about to kill me approached. I shut my eyes and prepared for whatever my fate was.

I felt it stop a few feet behind me. This monster is just staring at me. I’m too afraid to face it. I don’t want the last thing I see to be those glowing red eyes.

"What are you doing? Why did you run away?"

My heart nearly stopped. That voice—it was deep, loud, and had an eerie, echoing effect. Was this monster talking to me?

I took a deep breath. What should I say? Should I beg for my life?

"I asked you a question, human. Why are you running away?"

I could hear a hint of annoyance in its tone. The last thing I wanted was to anger a mythical being. I slowly turned my body. The sight that met me made speaking even more difficult.

It was tall. He was tall—about eight and a half feet.

He had blonde fur and a long mane of hair with red accents scattered throughout, tall pointed ears, and those glowing red eyes.

My lips parted. I wanted to answer, to beg for my life and apologize for intruding. But his appearance was so intimidating, so... enchanting.

I froze as he moved closer.

"Can you not speak, human? Are you afraid of me?" He chuckled. His laugh was as intense as his voice.

"I can speak," I managed to choke out.

His eyes seemed to light up, and he smiled.

Dear God. Those teeth. Long and sharp. If he wasn’t terrifying before, he definitely was now. I felt my heart beating rapidly. I knew I was done for, but this was all too much.

"What is your name, human? I've seen you walk this path for days now. I deserve to know who intrudes on my territory daily." Instead of anger, his tone was oddly amused.

"My name is Y/N L/N." I tried to keep the nervousness out of my voice but didn’t do a great job.

"Well then, Y/N L/N. You wandered away from your usual trail as soon as I got close to you. Why did you run away? Aren't you supposed to be looking for me?" He laughed, a mocking sound.

"You are a 'monster hunter,' aren't you?"

I didn't know what to say. He was right. I was supposed to be looking for him. That was the whole point of Tamayo taking me on, but I hadn’t expected it all to be so real.

"I didn’t believe in monsters. I was sent to look for a specific flower," I mumbled.

"Didn't believe?" He moved closer, towering over me. "Tell me then, Y/N L/N, do you believe now?" He smiled, those sharp teeth gleaming.

I felt my body run cold. He was terrifying, not just in appearance but in his entire demeanor.

“Yes, I do.”

For a moment, silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of the wind and his slight clicking.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“I am Kyojuro Rengoku, the protector of this land and its residents.” The echo in his voice cemented my assumptions.

There was no mistaking it—I had run into one of the Hashira.

I’d heard the stories, the legends of Rengoku, the fierce protector of this area. He was kind until he wasn’t. Then, humans saw him as a threat and banished him to the forest.

He kneeled down in front of me, still on the ground.

“You don’t seem too surprised. Have you heard of me?” His ear twitched, and I noticed the massive tail behind him curl around his body.

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ve heard the stories. You’re the Hashira associated with fire.”

He perked up at my response.

“So, my legends live on! How amusing!” He laughed.

His voice was so loud, it was almost funny.

Why is he acting like this? I thought he would have killed me by now.

“You’re hurt,” he said, gesturing to my ankle.

“Yeah... I sprained it,” I replied, shifting awkwardly.

“Yes, I know. From running away from me.” His tail flicked slightly, and a smirk formed on his face.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I was completely at a loss. Here I was, casually having a conversation with one of the scariest and deadliest creatures to walk the earth.

“What are you going to do with me? If you’re going to kill me, can’t you just get it over with?”

He looked at me, a mix of confusion and amusement in his eyes.

“Why are you so desperate to die so soon? Do you not enjoy my company?” His voice echoed with a chuckle.

Is he being serious right now?

“No— I’m just... confused. Why are you still talking to me? I’m a monster hunter, not a very good one, but still a monster hunter. Shouldn’t you just kill me and get it over with?” I was desperate for an answer, needing to know if I should prepare to die or not.

He stared at me for a moment, as if deep in thought, his ears twitching slightly.

“No, I don’t think I’ll kill you,” he said plainly. “However, only on the condition that you continue to return here. Tell no one of your kind about me and continue to come see me.”

I sat there, dumbfounded. This terrifying creature was willing to spare my life as long as I returned for his company?

“Why would you want to see me again?” I asked.

He smiled, baring his long, sharp teeth, his ears perking up.

“Because, Y/N L/N, you are the first person to talk to me in a long time. To be quite honest, something inside me is telling me that you and I are really going to like each other.”

His tone shifted, becoming more sinister. What did this creature have planned for me?

And why was I excited to find out?

Next>>

[spectralreplica]

But do you think the plan will work?

Oumota: tarot reading edition! I had this idea during Oumota Week and just got around to finishing it now 😔. At first I thought about giving Sun to Kaito and Moon to Kokichi (a la Reversed Sun by grayimperia), but I think it works better to have them both in each card, to highlight the parallels. (If you want more explanation of my design thoughts, I'll put it under a cut at the end.)

General tarot meanings:

The Sun: happiness, confidence, success, optimism, innocence/childhood, inspiring others, internal motivation, truth

The Moon: illusion, imagination, uncertainty, secrets, confusion, intuition/the subconscious, fears influencing you, insecurity

The Star: hope, regaining inspiration, renewal, healing, moving on, new purpose, calm after the storm (Reversed Star: despair, lack of faith, pessimism, boredom, anxiety, being overwhelmed by past problems)

.

I feel like while Kaito is naturally more Sun coded and Kokichi more Moon coded, they have some qualities of both cards. And Star vs Reversed Star is so temping to bring in for DR.

I was thinking of it as a past, present, future kind of reading, but also maybe situation, action, outcome. Starting out with high self confidence and some childish black and white thinking. (Maybe a little over confident and childish to the point of egotism and inflexibility, shades of reversed sun...). Covering for insecurities by projecting a fake persona to everyone around, doubling down on the lies and self-deception a la chapter 5. Finally, either coming through everything stronger, with renewed hope, or else crashing and burning, overwhelmed by unacknowledged issues that have built up.

.

As for the specific imagery...

Sun: I stuck pretty close to the traditional imagery here. The flag/banner has their respective prints on it, and I put Kaito on Mars while Kokichi remains on Earth. It's also sundown or sunset for Kokichi; is he moving towards the Moon or away? The horse is obv. very chess piece inspired. Kokichi gets his King Horse a la the mask on his bed, and I gave Kaito a pegasus because flying.

.

Moon: Moving a little bit away from traditional imagery as more of the canon situation seeps in, but still pretty close. The moon floats "outside" the cage, wearing their respective false faces. (We know from the ending that the skyline on those glass panels isn't real...) They both have an Exisal in the background in place of one of the towers, but Kaito has a bamboo grove a la Princess Kaguya; Kaguya came from the moon and she will go back, no matter how much people on Earth love her. Kokichi has one of the racks that sits beside shrines where you're supposed to tie bad/unlucky omikuji (paper fortunes) so that the bad luck doesn't follow you; living in purposeful denial of bad things, but they lurk there on the horizon.

They both still have at least one dog/wolf, but I gave Kokichi a fox because of their association with being tricksters. Also, wolves and foxes, as predators, are framed as villains in stories, but at the same time it's also not uncommon to see them as heroes (stereotype of predator/hunter vs stereotype of bravery/nobility and cleverness). Also, contrast of fox and hound, like the clash of Kokichi presenting himself as childish + annoying vs a genuine threat. Kaito has the dog, monkey, and pheasant that accompanied Momotaro, continuing his fairytale theme.

Everyone seems to argue over what the crawfish means in the original, but I went with the interpretation of moving from water to land, evolution, things coming to the surface. So, Kaito has a koi. I think most people know about the "koi climbs a waterfall and becomes a dragon" thing because of Magikarp, but here it is again just in case! Kaito's got an aquatic creature struggling against its nature in hopes of someday actually transforming into something grander. Kokichi has a poison dart frog. Already amphibious, so it can go between water and land freely, but visibly harmful to anyone who tries to get close.

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Star: The least traditional imagery and the most V3 canon imagery. There's still a tree, but it's a pine tree. ...I dunno, no explanation for that, it just looked nice 🤷‍♀️The two jugs are replaced with the poison and antidote bottles. Originally, they're supposed to represent the conscious and subconscious and pour in two different places, but here they're mixing together directly. V3 resolves the "truth vs lies" theme by arguing you have to accept ambiguity. Also, Kaito and Kokichi's whole plan rests on them managing to work together to obscure exactly who is in the Exisal in the end.

There's a figure in the foreground in Kaito's jacket, but they're just a silhouette (a la the culprit); it's not either of them, it's both, and they're reaching beyond the bounds of the game. The star in the sky is ringed by the trial podiums, since all of their hope for the future rests in derailing the next trial. Can they win? Well, Shuichi and Kiibo are at the top, the two people they (or at least Kokichi...) know can be problems, but Tsumugi is specifically blocked from view, always overlooked...

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part one

joel masterlist | series masterlist

pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: your dad finally takes you to have your car fixed, where you meet joel miller — dangerously handsome and charming beyond words word count: 3,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied and wears a dress, description of a rather useless boyfriend, strained father-daughter relationship, probably highly incorrect information about cars, smutty thoughts a/n: i watched one single fifteen minute video about changing brakes, so if anyone needs a bootleg mechanic you can hmu and i'll be there 🫡 endless hugs & head pats to @frannyzooey for not only all the help on this chapter, but all the kindness & encouragement overall 💜

Your car’s had warning lights on for probably a dangerous amount of time. You’d told your dad numerous times what was going on, not that it mattered all that much to him because the car still gets you from A to B and maybe if you drove a bit more delicately then these things wouldn’t need maintenance so often.

If you turn the music up loud enough it just drowns all that out – both the warnings and your dad’s constant berating. Coming home one night, you try one last time to ask him for help.

“Some jackass cut right across me on the freeway, I made sure he knew exactly what I thought of him though. Lucky I didn’t fly out through the windshield when I slammed on my brakes, considering there's more warnings on my dash than on a fuckin’ storm-season weather report.”

That seemed to do the trick, God, if only you’d done this a month ago. Suddenly he was scouring his search and call history for some mechanic he’d been to for his own car – “Miller’s Auto Repair”, though he doesn’t know who the Miller in question is, saying he dealt with some young boy named Eddie with greasy hair and stains on his shirt to match.

He found some time in his oh-so-busy schedule to go with you. Was he about to lecture you on your attitude? Definitely, but at least your car’s going to be fixed.

-

You park in the street behind your dad and haul yourself out of your car, walking up to meet him. Taking in the place, it looks decent enough – tools scattered around, a young guy working on a car on a lift, plastic chairs and a steel leg table off to one side. Maybe decent is a slight exaggeration, but it’s spacious and airy and doesn’t reek of sweat and toxic masculinity. You’re certainly out of place, the sun blazing down on you in your simple daisy-print dress and you feel slightly overdressed.

An older man comes out of a partitioned-off room, the drywall not quite reaching the rafters and sheet metal above. He’s wearing well-fitted and surprisingly chic black coveralls — a hint of skin peeking from behind the lapel, cuffs buttoned up below his elbows, belt around his hips and there are even pleats in the pant legs. And you thought you were overdressed. You mindlessly smooth out your dress, suddenly feeling like you haven’t made enough of an effort.

It’s not that you were expecting someone unattractive, but the man waltzing towards you is criminally handsome — if only you could find a boy your own age who looked like this. A part of you is actually jealous your dad found this place before you did.

He reaches out to both you and your father with a firm handshake, “Name’s Joel. What can I do for ya?”

“My daughter here’s been having some car troubles.” He gestures to you and you notice Joel gives you a once-over and nods.

Taking the silence as your queue to speak, you start listing everything gone wrong with your car. “First it told me the brake pads need changing, and that was about, what, six weeks ago now?” You glare at your dad, your tongue in your cheek and arms tight across your chest.

“Told you I’ve been busy, you know this.” He matches your look and you turn your attention back to Joel, rolling your eyes and he smirks ever so slightly.

“Aircon needs regassing, and the headlights don’t seem to want to go bright anymore.”

“Well, lights and aircon are quick fixes, can do both right now for you, not expensive. I’ll take a look at the brakes and see if we have sets here that’ll work and let you know about that.”

Your dad excuses himself when his phone starts ringing, leaving you alone with Joel.

“So why’d you bring your dad with? You seem capable enough to me.” He crosses his arms, tilting his head.

“I’d rather not have some macho mechanic clock me from a mile away, and end up getting handled for knowing fuck all about cars. No offence.” Joel smiles at your brash commentary, leaning closer towards you. “Wouldn’t do that to a pretty girl like you. Cute dress, those your favourite?”

You’re not quite sure what he’s talking about, to be honest — a fog came over your mind after ‘pretty girl’ fell from his lips and you stand there in silence, mouth hanging open in a daze.

He leans to the side and points to your chest, snapping you back to reality. “The daisies on your dress? That your favourite flower?”

“Oh! No, uh…” Your voice fades off, unsure of what to do about the heat creeping up your neck and into your ears.

 Joel just smirks at you. “You can bring in that car of yours onto the lift, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, your dad ending his call and he’s already asking questions about the cost of all this work. Getting in your car again, you’re flustered. All this man has done is call you sweetheart and pretty once and it’s all you can think about. You pull your car up to the shop, lining up with the lift as best you can and roll down your window.

Joel leans into the open window with a slanted smile, voice low enough for just you to hear him, “Lined up perfectly there, just go slow and I’ll tell you when to stop,” and God if that doesn’t have your mind racing. You give him a weak smile and manoeuvre your car onto the lift, stopping when he raises his hand. Pulling the bonnet lever and climbing out, you move to stand with your dad again, stepping over discarded rags and dried oil stains.

Joel does what looks to you like a whole lot of fiddling and tapping and knocking of random car parts under the bonnet, and takes the light covers off to change the bulbs; he takes a wheel off and checks the brakes and you watch him the whole time. Skilled and calloused hands moving with ease, your mind wanders off to what else he’s good at with his hands. Crouching down to feel around a toolbox, his coveralls pull tight around his ass and thighs. That heat you felt a few minutes ago only getting worse just from watching him work, embarrassment washing over you – though not enough to look away.

Everything looks like it’s back in place and he lowers the lift, walking towards you and your dad. “Gas and bulbs are done, should be good as new now. Brakes you’re gonna have to come back for, though. Eddie just used the last of the pads and discs you need on that car there, but we can get 'em easily enough, should be here next week.” You nod at him, not sure if it’s easier to look him in the eye or avoid him altogether.

“And you can’t get them any sooner? Or, how long are these current ones gonna be safe for? I’m out of town again next week and–”

“It’s fine, next week is fine.” You put a hand out to cut your dad off and shake your head. You’re really not in the mood for his entitlement, and truthfully you’re looking forward to the chance to come here again without him.

“You gonna manage on your own?” he asks, his tone almost mocking and eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” you chirp back, voice curt and monotone.

“You sure?” Of course, he wasn’t going to believe you were capable.

“I’ll get Jake to come with me. It’s fine. Really.”

Right, Jake – your boyfriend. Someone you should’ve been thinking of a long time ago, when instead you were all but undressing Joel with your eyes, imagining the nice things he’d do for you, with you, to you.

You and Jake have been together just over a year now, slept together a handful of times, and all around he’s a decent guy. You met while you both were in training and were given the same placements for industry experience. He’s never done anything inherently bad to you, but lately, you’ve found yourself putting more and more distance between you — subconsciously initially, but now it feels more like a chore to spend time with him.

He’s been sweet and kind to you from the start, but it would be nice to have him make an effort every so often, brag about you, show you off. His grand plan for celebrating your anniversary was taking you out for lunch and calling it a day; if he visits while your dad’s around, the two of them spend more time talking than you do. It’s been about two months since he fucked you, if you could even call it that, and you’re tired of either faking an orgasm or reassuring him it’s fine you never came when you forget to put on the act at all.

You can’t picture someone like Joel giving you such mediocre treatment and being satisfied with that, living life so blissfully unaware.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your fog and you notice your dad’s already walked out.

“See you then,” and he retreats with a tilt of his head and a wink.

Fuck it’s going to be a long week.

-

Joel already texted your dad three days ago to say you could come in, and you’ve been oddly nervous about it, your mind racing: what’s gonna be the quietest time to go, I wonder if Joel will be too busy with another job, I should make sure I’m not wearing the same dress again. You even made sure you washed your hair the night before in preparation, scolding yourself the whole time – he’s some random guy fixing your car, not to mention you do have a boyfriend.

Eddie’s nowhere to be seen, Joel’s wearing those same coveralls and there’s music playing from a worktop speaker.

“Afternoon, princess,” he holds your door open, eyes following you across the room, just the same as the week before. “Thought you were bringing a friend – what was his name?”

Fingers toying with the hem of your top, you only hope you made the right decision coming here alone. You’re not worried about something that Joel would say or do, no, but worried about something you yourself might. You never were good at hiding your feelings; you pray he can’t see through you.

“Oh, Jake?” You could keep it a secret and enjoy Joel’s attention a while longer but weighing up your options, maybe it’s better to just be honest with him. “He’s my boyfriend. He was uh, busy… today. So, just me.” He doesn’t need to know you never even asked Jake to accompany you to begin with.

“Is it cool if I stay while you work?” you ask timidly. “I can get a ride home though, if you’d prefer.”

“It’s no trouble, here.” He pulls a stool towards you, wiping it off with a smile. Joel gets to work on your car and it’s like a show, just for you. Definitely the right choice to come alone, you smile to yourself.

“So this boyfriend of yours, what’s he like?” he shouts out from the far side of your car and your smile drops.

“Oh, uh… he’s nice.” He is nice, but you can’t be bothered to think of anything worthwhile to say about him.

Joel rounds your car to stop and look at you. “Sounds to me like you don’t want ‘nice’.” His eyes trail up and down your figure and you gawk at his remark. Okay, maybe he actually can see right through you.

“Well, my dad really likes him. Says it’s good to have someone to ground you, or whatever.” Joel simply nods in response and turns his attention back to your car.

You take the opportunity to really take him in this time, with no dad around as a source of shame. Thick curls that you would love to run your hands through, sculpted nose, well-trimmed moustache, grey and patchy scruff for a beard, wide back and broad shoulders and firm chest and—

God, you need to think of something else before you get carried away. Again. You look around the room to refocus on something more appropriate, taking in all the arbitrary decor. Dog-eared posters of old rock bands, exposed bulbs dotted between fluorescent lights, a chain of mini chequered flags strung up along the wall.

You risk another look at Joel and see he’s taken two wheels off already, doing more twisting and turning of car parts you never even knew were there in the first place.

“What’s that?”

He looks to you over his shoulder, coveralls pulling tight again over his arms and back.

“What, this? Called a calliper. Holds the brake pads that squeeze against the disc, stopping the car.” You purse your lips, nodding slowly and Joel huffs out a laugh, facing away again. “Got any siblings that need car part lessons?” He continues, “Or better yet, maybe they can teach you instead.”

“Nope, just me. What about you? Any other Millers gracing the town?” You see him shake his head and he chuckles to himself. 

“Got a brother, Tommy. He’s in construction. I worked with him a while back — much prefer this, though. What’s a girl like you do? Working your dream job?”

‘I’m uh, in between jobs, actually. I’m a chef — was a chef.” You look down to your lap, picking your nails. “I quit. Place was full of sexist dickheads. They suggested I put myself forward for promotion, then gave it to some egotistical asshole with both less experience and qualification. So I told them exactly where they could shove their promotion and never went back.”

You sigh and look up and see Joel’s already watching you, a faint smile on his face almost like he’s proud of you for standing your ground. His eyes are a mix of sympathy and understanding — not something you’re often on the receiving end of.

“I know I kinda fucked myself quitting like that, but I was tired of constantly being treated like shit. And not a fuck was I gonna stick around and take orders from a guy like that.” You crack a smile and Joel matches it.

“You keepin’ yourself busy?”

“Trying to figure out what’s next. Not sure if maybe I should do some more training somewhere, expand my skill set y’know, or just find another job. Not very easy with my dad breathing down my neck.” Joel nods, and his keen attention spurs you on. He’s one of few people who have actually listened to you about all this without giving you his own unwanted opinion or unsolicited advice.

“Only real silver lining is having time to pick up some old hobbies again. And talking to you, I guess.” Joel gives you a skew grin and you smile bashfully, lowering your gaze as you feel your cheeks redden.

“So what do you get up to when you’re not talkin’ to me, then?”

“Bits and pieces here and there. It’s been nice to get back into piano again.”

“Keen musician, are you? Play guitar myself, do a lot of the stuff that’s been playing here.”

The mental image of Joel playing guitar is not good for keeping your mind out of the gutter, and you're soon thinking about what one hand looks like plucking away at the strings, the other in a firm grip around the neck. One hand plucking away at you, the other in a firm grip around your neck. You stop yourself before that runs rampant in your mind, focusing on the song playing in the background.

“Wait, can you play In The Gallery?” You lean forward, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, a grin spreading across your face in shock and amazement.

“You know this?” Joel points off in no direction, giving you the same bewildered look, and your expression changes from that of awe to insult.

“Of course I do, it’s Dire Straits. Look, I may know jack shit about cars but I do know other things. Do you sing, too?”

He shifts his weight to one leg, cocking his head to the side. “Do you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You flash a smile and he faces away again.

Joel’s bolted the front wheels back and is busy removing the rear ones when a phone starts ringing above the music.

“Hands a little full here. Can you answer? It’s just on the bench there.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you stand and make your way to find it. Sliding to answer, you hold the phone to one ear and press a finger in the other to drown out the noise, slinking off towards Joel’s office.

-

Joel watches as you walk into his office, phone pressed into your ear. He’s been thinking about you since you arrived with your dad last week, and he’s glad to spend some time hearing what you have to say. And, you know, getting to really look at you without your dad around. 

He thought you looked beautiful in that dress last week — thought what you’d look like out in public with him in that same dress, with his jacket over your shoulders as the air grows cold, you writhing underneath him behind closed doors and waking up in his shirt next to him the following morning. He scolded himself when you drove off last week for allowing himself that indulgence, that twisted fantasy about a girl as young as you — but seeing how you are today, maybe he was right all along.

You’ve been staring at him since you parked, and the way you bite your bottom lip and openly ogle at him when you think he doesn’t notice tells him you’re thinking about the same things, too. 

You seemed shy, scared even, when you first stood in front of him, overshadowed by your father and his clear frustration with you. It seems you have no issue with pushing him, but he can see in the way you stand, closed off, and hear the unease in your constant defence that maybe this eats away at you more than you like to admit. He’s spent a mere two hours with you so far, and you shine when you’re free to say whatever you want, be whoever you want.

Your boyfriend Jake, however — he might be a challenge. Your smile faded when he was mentioned, saying your father’s fond of him, that he’s nice. Maybe you haven’t been together all that long, or on the contrary, been together too long, but if ‘nice’ is his most redeeming quality… He took your indifference and curt response as a sign to not push any further for now, but that boy, whoever he is, clearly doesn’t know how to keep a girl like you happy.

He’s considering fabricating some story of something else that needs repairs on your car just so you’d have a reason to come back, even if under false pretence. You probably would believe him given the evident gaps in your knowledge, but the risk of breaking your trust might not be worth it. He should keep his distance.

He focuses on the task at hand again and finds himself paying extra attention to his work. You won’t recognise good handiwork, but he knows you’ll be excited about having a fully functional car again. It’s not much, but seeing that winning smile spread across your face will be enough for him.

-

Much like Joel himself, it seems, his office is pleasantly well-kept, bar a few too many half-empty coffee mugs and stray papers littering the desk. A tatty plaid-print couch against the back wall, a mini fridge tucked next to the desk, a leather jacket hung over his chair. Blinds drawn and with no sign of Joel approaching, you trace your fingers across the collar, wondering what it would feel like hanging over your own shoulders, arms drowning in the too-long sleeves and you drowning in him.

You leave his office to walk back towards him and Joel raises his eyebrows questioningly, wiping his hands off on a rag. “So?”

“Woman named Hazel? She didn’t leave much of a message, she just asked if you could call her back. Said you’d have her number.” You hand the phone to him, his hands cool compared to the heat burning under your skin.

“Ah, guess I should,” he mumbles, a hand coming up to scratch the nape of his neck.

“Hm, so who’s Hazel? Is she pretty?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, a cheeky grin on your face.

Joel scoffs a laugh. “Nobody you need to worry about, not my type.” You feel an odd sense of assurance at his admission. “Well, everything’s done, you’re good to go. Your dad paid last week already.”

“And what about all the hard work you put into this? Surely I owe you something for that?”

“You spendin’ the afternoon was payment enough.” He smiles at you, eyes softening. “I’ll see ya round, sweetheart. Come by any time, I mean it. And hey, if you ever need a change of scenery, you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me.”

You’re not entirely sure if he’s seriously offering you a job or just passing it off as banter. It would get you out of the house and put a bit of extra cash in your pockets; you’d get to spend days on end around Joel, watch him work, and maybe get a glimpse into who he is beyond the charming mechanic you know so far. 

It would certainly test your resolve being so close to him. You consider all the afternoons that may look like the one you’ve just had — easy work, no Eddie or other customers around, just you and Joel and the tension between you. You suppose you’d have to find something to do to pass the time on days like these… Then again, do you really want to risk having him see you as just the girl who answers the phone?

Maybe you can fake something, an excuse to bring you back here to see him again. The ruse wouldn’t last long, not when Joel takes one look at the car and sees clear as day there’s nothing wrong, but you can pin it all on inexperience. Either way, you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[soaps-mohawk]

So...

I've been doing some thinking about a couple of things.

This blog has grown considerably, even from its start and I appreciate each and every one of you so much. Your support never ceases to amaze me and I owe all of you a lot for giving me something to focus on this year instead of spiraling into insanity.

But

Things have gotten a tad bit overwhelming recently between trying to run the blog and trying to write. I find myself either having to ignore the blog to get writing done, or sacrifice writing time and energy to spend time on the blog and keep up with all the replies/reblogs/asks etc. Definitely not complaining, you all never cease to amaze me.

But, I am just one person and my brain only has so much power right now. So, I'm planning to take some (more) time off each week right now while I focus on writing and planning since we're getting into some serious plot stuff soon. So I'm planning to be on the blog three days a week for a while: Saturday, Sunday, and Thursday. That gives me some time to get some writing done as well as some time to rest my brain.

Saturday and Sunday of course to post the chapter and respond to replies and reblogs so I don't get super behind. Monday I'll have some asks queued up as well as maybe a few reblogs. I'll still use the queue Tuesday and Wednesday for reblogs/asks with spoilers as usual. Thursday I'll be on the blog answering asks from Monday - Wednesday as well as things I get that day. I'll queue up a few things for Friday since that day gives me a little break between to prepare for the weekend and posting the chapter.

I'll probably add more days as time goes on. You can still send in asks on the days I'm gone, but just know I won't see them or respond to them until later in the week. I already get behind by a couple days on asks anyway so that's not much of a change.

Don't feel bad for sending them either, I love getting all these asks, I just tend to get behind on days I spend more time writing.

The second order of business

has to do with my taglist. Most of you probably haven't noticed (which I don't blame you lol) but my taglist has gotten very big. Very, very big. It's just over 230 people right now, and I'm sure there will be others asking to join. It's quite time consuming to do all of these tags for every chapter (especially since we can't tag in blocks anymore) so I've been doing some thinking into how I can make it easier for me, and for you.

I know there's at least one blog I've heard of, though I'm sure there's more, that have made side blogs that they have people follow and turn on notifications for and just make a post on that blog when they post a chapter or fic, etc. I've been considering doing that since the taglist is a lot of work and time.

I've also seen blogs that have side blogs that just post chapters/fics and nothing else. I know quite a few of you only follow for the fic, so if anyone is interested, I could put together a side blog like that as well that you can follow and get notifications from instead of having to follow this blog and having to go through the probably 100 posts that I make a day 😂 (at least it feels that way for me)

Having a separate blog for the taglist too would allow me to schedule posts so I can have them come out a bit earlier than I get up for those of you across the world who stay up to read and have to wait for me to post in the morning when I get up (or later like today because I slept in). Of course Ao3 will get posted later because I can't schedule posts there, but at least for Tumblr I can have things post earlier.

So let me know what you think about the taglist side blog and the possible just chapters/fics side blog. Feel free to send in asks (anonymously or not) with your opinion. I might not answer them all (not tonight because my brain is fried and honestly i'm not sure if this is even comprehensible English) but I will at least use them to make the decision (or make a post with all of them and answer it as just one).

[ayyy-pee]

𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕕𝕖 𝟘.𝟝 - 𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕜

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Next Episode

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Episode Summary: After a drunken night of binge watching your (least?) favorite show, you find yourself making a grave mistake.

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE! I hope you guys enjoy this ride (that you're in charge of in later chapters!!!) I'll put up Episode 1 tomorrow after proofreading!!! <3

“God, this show is so stupid,” you mutter, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth while you get settled onto the couch.

“Please…It’s so bad, but I tune in to every season.”

You glance over when your friend reaches into your lap and dips her fingers into your bowl of popcorn and grabs a few kernels.

That was the perfect way to describe what was happening now. You’re currently huddled up on the couch, having spent the day binging the most recent season of The Bachelor until you’re all caught up. The new episode airs tonight and you’re eager to see who Joey ends up picking. Will it be Rachel? She’s gorgeous, funny, and her family seems to really get along with this season’s Bachelor. They have great chemistry. Or maybe it will be Daisy? Though you couldn’t see that working out. The girl is a total bore. Or it could be…what’s her name again? The one who looks a little bit like she could be his sister. Ah, whatever.

You’re not sure when you really began to even give a shit about this mess of a show. It’s corny. No one falls in love within a few weeks of knowing each other. And why does one man or woman need to date twenty people to find someone to marry? Are they that unlikeable in the real world? Not to mention, it’s totally unrealistic. Do these relationships even work out once the cameras cut off? Unlikely. You find the entire premise of the show downright stupid.

And yet, you can’t tear your eyes away as this season’s Bachelor takes each girl out on an extravagant date that…you can’t lie, you would love to be on.

Dancing in Malta? Sunbathing on a yacht off the coast of Spain? Getting to see Niagara Falls up close? Sign you up. You don’t think you would stand a chance being the object of everyone’s affection, but you could definitely milk being a contestant for free trips and good food.

“Why can’t he see that Rachel is the best pick here? Ugh, annoying. You know he’s going to give what’s-her-name the last rose.” Your friend downs her wine in one swig and you don’t bother to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. She’s all red faced. You’re not sure if it’s from how passionate she is about the show or from the two empty bottles of merlot she’s managed to down practically on her own, but the glowing hue it gives her highlights the thick scar across her face. A product of her line of work, and said line of work being the reason she’s guzzling wine in the first place.

“Maybe take it easy on the drinks, Utahime.”

She hiccups next to you, slouching in her seat. “I haven’t even had that much to drink!”

“You’ve had most of the wine just on your own!”

“Oh my god, you have one or nine glasses of wine and suddenly you’re wasted,” she mutters sarcastically. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes, because you know there’s no going back and forth with her stubborn ass when she starts drinking. 

The living room dims for about three seconds before it lights back up, the show now having gone on commercial break. The rose ceremony is next and despite shit-talking the show only ten minutes ago, you’re eager for the commercials to wrap up so you can see who goes home. It better not be Rachel. You use this brief intermission to go and get some water for yourself but mostly Utahime so she can sober up.

This has been your routine for the last few weeks. Every Monday night, Utahime comes over, peels you out of your bed and forces you on the couch to chug alcohol and watch this ridiculous show. While you find the entire premise of the show nonsensical, you’re grateful for the time it’s given you with Utahime.

You’re fairly new to the Kyoto area and Utahime was the first person you’d met on your first day at your new – how can you put this? – unique job. You see, you and Utahime both work in the field of Jujutsu sorcery. But there’s about where your similarities in the field stop.

Utahime is an active Sorcerer. She’s an instructor raising up the next generation of Sorcerers, building them up so that they can one day join the frontlines to protect the unaware non-Sorcerers of Japan. She’s strong– a grade 1 Sorcerer. Quite impressive. She could easily knock a curse’s head off if she wanted to.

But you? Well, while Utahime is at the top of the ranks of Jujutsu society, you are what some would refer to as a bottomfeeder – an unranked, unimportant, lowly Window. You’re someone who has just enough cursed energy to see a curse. But can you do anything about them? Not unless you want to end up in the nearest trauma center. So if you’re smart, you’ll do your job and whip your phone out to report it so that the real Sorcerers can handle it.

You’ve been in this field for several years now, but working outside of the major cities of Japan. Transferring to Kyoto was your idea of wanting something new and different. Utahime had quickly taken you under her wing. You were certain it was because she took pity on you. A weak, barely gifted Window. But as time went on, you came to realize that that was just Utahime. She was kind and funny, and had a good heart. Well, except when it came to –

“Hey!” Utahime calls from her spot on the couch. You can hear a slur in her words as she speaks and you know she’s opened yet another bottle of wine from who knows where. “Come here! Look at this!” You peer at the television from the doorway of your kitchen and see Utahime has it paused on a very ugly ad. It’s bright white with a background full of red rose petals across the screen. Your eyes roam over the words.

“THE SEARCH IS ON FOR THE ELIGIBLE WOMEN WHO ARE READY TO FIND TRUE LOVE! DO YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAVE THE CHARM, STYLE, AND PERSONALITY TO BE OUR NEXT STAR? IF SO, APPLY OR NOMINATE SOMEONE NOW!”

“Will you hurry up? Come look!” Utahime demands, messily pouring more wine into her glass. But it looks like a normal advertisement to you, so you’re not entirely sure what has Utahime’s interest so piqued.

She beckons you again, yelling “Come here!” So you quickly grab a couple bottles of water from your fridge and head back. Utahime is pointing insistently at the screen. “Look. Look really hard.”

You follow the path where her finger points, shuffling closer to the t.v. to get a clearer look. It takes a moment for you to see it, like really see it, but it’s definitely there. Underneath the last line, hidden from the eyes of those unable to see the horrors that you and those like Utahime can, is another message. You fall to your knees, eyes glued to the tiny additional message floating beneath, glowing with cursed energy that reads, “JUJUTSU SorcererS PREFERRED”. 

Confusion slowly takes over your features, the corners of your lips turning down with a frown, a brow arched and skepticism in your eyes. Were you missing something? Was this some sick joke? Were Jujutsu Sorcerers huge fans of The Bachelor or something? You spin around to face your friend who has a look of mischief twinkling in her eyes. You know it all too well, mouth falling open and a finger pointing when you scream “NO” at the exact moment Utahime yells “YOU SHOULD APPLY!”

“Absolutely not!” You must be looking at Utahime like she’s grown two more heads because she looks just as confused as you.

“Why not?! You’d be great on there!”

Maybe she hasn’t grown two more heads. Maybe her brain was swapped while you were in the kitchen because why the hell was she suggesting this?

“Well, for starters, I’m not really looking to date.”

Utahime rolls her eyes, as if that’s just not a good enough excuse. You should just ignore her, snatch the remote from her hand and hit play so you can get back to the show and see who this guy chooses to potentially get engaged to. But for some reason (could be the single drop of wine your friend allowed you to have while she downed the rest), you feel the need to keep listing off reasons to not sign up. “Secondly, I– why would I even want to go on this show?”

Utahime sips her wine, eyes low as she falls into her drunkenness, but you can still see the sparkle of mischief in those brown hues…and it scares you. So you keep talking, chatting away and listing excuse after excuse to your friend, eventually finding yourself back on the couch trying to drive your final point home.

“Besides, they want Sorcerers.” This seems to get Utahime’s attention again, makes her set her glass down as she looks at you.

“I’m sure it’s fine. You are a Sorcerer.”

“I’m a Window.”

“Semantics. You can see curses, can’t you?” Utahime argues.

“...yes.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “But I can’t do anything about them.”

It’s not something you should be ashamed of, but there’s just the tiniest bit of you that is ashamed. Because being able to see these monsters and not having the power to do anything about them…well, it feels like a curse in and of itself.

To this, she sighs. “Sorcerers, Windows. They’re just terms used by the higher-ups to keep their stupid, fucked up heirarchy intact.”

You know it’s the wine that’s loosened her tongue. In public, Utahime would not dare to speak so freely. The Jujutsu politics in Kyoto were a lot stricter than they were in Tokyo. Not that that said much anyway. The politics were shit regardless. But Utahime worked closely with those connected to the higher-ups, so outside of this little bubble in your apartment, she kept pretty hush hush about her true feelings.

You watch Utahime closely as she fiddles with her wine glass. She really is beautiful. You think she’d be incredible on a show like this. Which gives you the idea.

“What don’t you apply?”

Utahime leans back, a cackle so loud and abrupt leaving her tiny body.

“No way. I would never date any of these Sorcerers.”

“And you want me to?!” You ask incredulously. You don’t know whether to be offended or not.

Your friend fixes you with a deadpan stare. “You don’t know them the way I do. The only good one out of all of them is Nanami Kento…and Shoko.” She mutters the last name quietly, like it’s a secret that she thinks so highly of her. And maybe it is a secret…the way she feels about the doctor in Tokyo who you couldn’t help but notice has Utahime’s cheeks glowing red whenever she’s mentioned.

“Besides,” Utahime continues. “If I signed up for this and got paired with Gojo –” she shudders at the mere thought of being near the man. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from projectile vomiting just at the prospect of having to kiss him.”

It’s your turn to laugh obnoxiously now, because – “Why the hell would the strongest Sorcerer in a thousand years sign up for this shit? You don’t think he has anything better to do? Like, you know…keep all of Japan safe?”

“Satoru Gojo does whatever Satoru Gojo wants.”

You can’t argue with that. Utahime would know best. She did grow up with him after all. She knew him well. You’ve never met the man, being just a Window, you doubt you ever will. Out of all the Sorcerers, you’ve only ever met Utahime and Principal Gakuganji. You’ve never even met any of the students. You all run in different circles, but that doesn't mean you don’t keep up with the going-ons of the Jujutsu world. Everyone knows Satoru Gojo.

“You should really sign up, though,” Utahime suggests once more. “You might meet a good person. If anything, you’ll get a good vacation out of it.” With that, she stands. It’s clear that the wine is hitting her again, because she wobbles clumsily to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

If it’s anything like every other week before this, you’ll be peeling Utahime out of your bathtub because she will have inevitably fallen asleep.

Your eyes fall back on the hidden message on the television, reading it over and over before you finally just hit play and let the finale finish.

Joey chooses whatever that girl’s name is. You’re only halfway paying attention because against your better judgment, you’re actually thinking about applying to this. But you think the show is stupid, right? Why would you waste your time? But what if Utahime is right? What if you do meet someone? It’s not that you’re against dating. You’re just not actively in the market for romance because you’ve found that dating non-Sorcerers is more stress than it’s worth.

The constant obligation you feel to regulate their emotions so you can avoid the creation of a cursed spirit that you’ll have to call in and do paperwork for? Exhausting. Not to mention, if you ever grew to truly love this person, you’d be overwhelmed with guilt if a curse manifested and harmed them in any way and you couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as you made a phone call.

You’d never really given any thought to it, but perhaps dating a Sorcerer is what you needed. You could end up meeting an amazing man!

But also, semantics or not, you were not technically a Sorcerer. You were simply a Window. Why the hell would an actual Sorcerer want to be with you? Better yet, what were the chances of this show even choosing you as their next Bachelorette?

- - - - - -

Apparently, the chances were extremely high, because one phone call, four video interviews, a nearly five hour drive from Kyoto to Tokyo, and days of promotional video and photo shoots later, you find yourself standing outside of the Bachelor Mansion, donning the most expensive gown that money could buy.

This is not what you expected. Not at all. There is so much going on. You want to run and hide from every single camera you see being propped up. You want to curl into yourself when the lights come on and the director calls, “Action!” And you see some man you’re just meeting for the first time approaching as he speaks directly to the camera.

“...and she’ll be making history tonight as The Bachelorette’s first Jujutsu Sorcerer,” you hear him tell the camera as he stops just a few feet short of you. Tall, blonde and handsome. He looks like an American football player. “I’m Jesse Palmer, ladies and gentleman. Now, let’s meet our Bachelorette!”

He turns to you, wearing a bright smile. The cameras follow, moving closer to catch a close-up of your face, so you smile as naturally as you can and try not to flinch when Jesse moves forward to embrace you in a swift hug.

Jesse calls your name as though you’ve been friends for a long time. “So nice to finally see you. You look great.”

The camera pans down your body and back up to your face. “Likewise, Jesse.”

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m nervous! Definitely nervous, but feeling good! I’m so excited for this,” you lie. You’re dreading this process. But it’s too late to back out now. So you just hold your smile, conversing politely as Jesse makes small talk and gets to know you before the first contestant pulls up.

And you hope that if Utahime is watching, she sees the message behind your eyes screaming that you’re absolutely going to kill her.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Gravity (Part 2)

This may be becoming a thing. There will be at least one more chapter and I have no idea what to call this thing. Maybe by the end I'll know. 😅

Gn reader x Raphael

Warnings: Hypothermia, language (but I think that's a given in a Raph fic?)

Part 1 Part 3

It had been one week. One week since he'd slipped. One week since the fever carried him to your rooftop.

You haven't spoken. More specifically, he hasn't spoken. Apart from texting you when he made it home like you insisted he did every night, it had been radio silence. You texted him before his patrol like you always did, and he stared at his phone, expressionless, before putting it back in his pocket.

What could he say?

He'd already had the conversation a thousand times in his head, and as far as he was concerned, it didn't need to be said. He didn't need you to let him down easy.

Because you'd mean it. Every damn word. You're sorry. He's your best friend. Nothing has to change.

But it would change, there was no way it couldn't. Things were different now.

That night had been the worst of it. He'd left not long after his confession. At that point, just the sound of your voice was enough to make him weep, and he didn't want to make things worse. Not that he thought they could *get* worse.

He made up some excuse about Leo calling it early, and ran.

He was running now, through the freezing rain, a sudden cold snap in the middle of spring, and hoping that between the temperature and the downpour hammering into his coat, he could think about anything else.

It wasn't long before he was considering ditching the coat. It was already soaked through, and weighing him down, which was hard to do.

That gave him pause.

He stopped, ducking under an overhang, and opened his coat, pulling the fabric back to expose his side. He twisted and looked at the small device mounted onto his shell just under his shoulder blade. There was supposed to be a little red light. There wasn't.

Shit.

They each had them. One of the first inventions D had come up with after they'd started doing patrols as kids.

A blizzard had suddenly torn through the city one night, and they were woefully unprepared with only winter coats. The cold dropped their body temperatures, and then them. Splinter had to hunt across the rooftops until he found them, asleep and hypothermic, huddled behind a construction dumpster.

Donnie didn't leave his lab for days. He blamed himself, he should have known the blizzard was coming, that their gear was insufficient, he should have had *some* kind of backup heat supply. No matter how many times his family told him otherwise, it was his fault, and he would never let it happen again.

So he built something to fix it. Raph didn't really get a lot of the specifics, but the overall was that the small devices "converted kinetic energy into heat that was then stored and distributed throughout the inside of their shells." Or, as Raph understands it, as long as you keep moving, you won't die.

One night a few weeks ago, someone had gotten lucky and he had taken a rusted rebar to the chest that had shattered on impact. His regulator had been damaged by the shrapnel, but the weather had already been warming up, and then the season hit and it was forgotten about.

The rain must have been the final nail, only the exterior was watertight. It was dead. He could already feel the cold and damp setting in. He needed to get home. Fast.

He set off, the only sound other than the roar of the rain was the gradually slowing heartbeat that pounded in his ears.

*Fuck* it was cold.

It wasn't long before his waterlogged coat became too much to carry. He ditched it behind an air conditioning unit, and kept moving.

Hailstones felt like bullets as they pelted bare skin, and through the sheets of rain, the haze of cold and exhaustion that had started at the edges was encroaching. It wasn't long before he was too tired to think.

He was moving on pure instinct, without even the presence of mind to pray he could make it somewhere safe. Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny Leo was lecturing him for not hitting his emergency signal.

He stumbles. He is so, so tired. The soft darkness of sleep is pulling at him like a rip tide. He drags himself to the next rooftop, barely touching down before he collapses.

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Facesitting, explicit sex, blow jobs, breeding kink, like Satoru needs to breed you fr lol, little bit of getting tied up, light dom/sub elements, then mentions of death and light angst

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here! (Gojo's POV in itallics)

Chapter 9 - Masterlist

Chapter 10

“Gojo… this is too much.” You're standing in front of four big red bags of clothes he had ordered, and he shrugged with a smile.

“Maybe I want you to stay here all the time.” He pulled out an empty drawer of his huge black dresser, and you feel your tummy flip flop. “You can have this one.”

“A drawer? Are you sure?” He was so casual, shrugging and smiling back at you, handsome as fuck.

“We've damn near been sleeping together for two weeks. We might as well have some clothes for you here.” You nervously bite your lip, carefully pulling out the pretty dresses and cute tops, scanty little shorts that made you flush.

“You want me all slutty hmm?” He grinned big then.

“Absolutely I do. When you're just here with me, you might as well be.” You giggle, starting to pack the drawer full. “Next we'll basically be married.”

“Oh stop!” You shoulder him, never sure if he's joking or serious, but he's grabbing another little bag, and you realize it's full of lingerie. “That's for you isn't it?”

“I'd look so pretty!” He holds a lacy pink bra to his chest and you burst out laughing shaking your head at the vision.

“You would!”

“I'll wear it for you baby.” He winks and blows you a kiss, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Thank you. It's all so nice. I really appreciate it.” You two kiss, and you feel so comfortable in his room, like it's as easy as breathing, like you could stay and not leave.

“Of course. I know I was a dickhead this morning.”

“You were. I'm still mad. A little less though.”

“I also got you a toothbrush.” He slid a hand into the final bag, and there was a fancy electric brush that was extra. You smile.

“Now we're definitely married.” You tease, and his smirk is devilish.

“Knew it. Just gotta get you pregnant now.” He growled the words, hand on your lower tummy. You feel that fucking ache for him hit hard, crying out just a bit. “You like that idea a lot. Just pregnant all the time with all my babies.”

“All the time? How many baby Gojos?!”

“Mmm at least three.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“Three is okay.”

“Gotta get on that first one. Skip a pill would you.” He lowered his hand, and you instinctively arch against him, gasping. “So fucking easy.”

“Mnh fuck off.” He bit the other side of your neck then, leaving the healing bruise alone, tearing the flesh and making you slick and wanting against his fingertips. “Speech.”

“Boring.” You laugh breathlessly. He picks out an outfit for you then.

“You should put this on.” You nod, and he helps you out of your blazer and business skirt, sliding the little white crop tank and pink shorts on you. Your nipples are on full display, and he grabs your soft breasts, squishing them in his big hands.

“Speech.”

“You're annoying.” He grimaced, looking you up and down. “And really fucking hot.”

“So are you, annoying and really hot.” He kisses your nose, and you can feel your chest tightening with how much you felt then.

“All right, let's go work on the speech. Wanna do this in my office?”

“That works! Oooh do you have snacks?”

“Of course I do. I'll bring em up and meet you there.”

You head to his office, taking some papers and a pen, gliding smoothly against the paper as you start. Gojo came back with a ton of little chocolate cookies, popcorn, pretzels, mini donuts and chocolate bars. You feel yourself full of fondness for him and his goofy self.

“My lady.” He bows, and you curtsey.

“Many thanks Sir. Oh gosh you do have a sweet tooth!”

“Fuck yes I do. Let me grab something to drink.”

You continue jotting down ideas and points Gojo could make, and he comes back with little bottles of different flavor sodas of all kinds. He opens you one up, and then asks the device to play jazz, creating a calming atmosphere, so comfortable. He was leaning behind you, filling you with his clean scent, a long arm on either side of your chair, hand gently brushing your bare shoulder.

His very being distracted you, making your mind wander, thinking torrid thoughts that seemed insatiable. He hummed a bit, looking at your paper, touching you so gently you leaned back in the chair, sighing happily. “Should just all be singing your praises, law school girl.”

“No, no. It's your speech. Okay so I'm thinking of…”

 You and Gojo fall into a comfortable mix of silence and concentration as you both work on your own papers, taking turns snacking and popping treats into each other’s mouths.

Soon it had been well over an hour and your eyes were growing tired. You peek over to see his progress, and he’s super concentrated on everything, hunched over the paper. You get a look at it, and then nearly snort your soda out of your nose.

“Satoru! Really?” He peeks up all innocent batting those lashes with an angelic little smile.

“What?” You roll your eyes at his attempt at feigned innocence.

“That's what you’ve been doing? It’s just a drawing of Sukuna on a dartboard with a fucking dart in his head!”

He grinned, laughing like a mad man, holding it up with pride. “It's a good fucking drawing too! Admit it, you know it is.”

You sigh, hands on your face, struggling to hold in your laughter, holding your tummy as it burst out, making you shake with it. “Yeah, it kinda is.”

“See! I'm so talented.” He pulls you between his thighs, spinning the chair, bringing you to where his head was against your breasts.

“Very talented.” You are brushing back his hair, soft under your fingers, thinking how irritated this would have made you before, but now it was endearing somehow. Deeper and deeper you fall.

“I’m talented in all kinds of ways.” His voice gets husky, his hands sliding down your bare waist.

“Mmm. Let's do more later.”

Gojo snatches you up, popping you on his desk. Your arms fall around his neck with ease, scooching your hips to the edge of it.

“Why do you look so fucking delectable on a desk?” He purred the words. “Come on little brat.”

He helps you down, leading you back up to his room.

He's kissing you passionately, and then he turns you around, and leads you over to his side table, opening it to reveal all sorts of things that might as well have come from some erotica.

“Have I shown you any of this yet?”

“I… what is this, some red room of pain shit?”

He chuckles and plays with your breasts now, making you sigh as he shows you more in the drawer with his other hand. “Nothing too wild here. Handcuffs, rope, gags, blindfold, whip and anal plugs. Lubricant for days, but you sure the fuck don't need that with that waterfall.”

“Nothing too wild? You’re talking to the girl who literally has done almost nothing.” You instantly cover your face in your hands and he eases them down.

“Ah-ah. Don’t be embarrassed. We don't ever have to use any of this. It's just there. If you ever want to try anything just ask me.”

“What if I'm vanilla? Would it be boring?”

“No. You could never bore me.” He caresses your cheek, turning your head so that he could look into your eyes, your ass pressed against his body, wanting. His words reassure you.

 You fall deeper into the abyss that is Satoru Gojo. 

“It’s cute how innocent you are. I just love corrupting it.” His tone grew dark, and you trembled, mind whirling with wild fucking images.

“I mean a couple of them seem interesting…” You admit, still shy though Gojo had seen you in nearly every way. “Maybe being tied up wouldn't be so bad? But I like to touch your body a lot..” You pressed a hand to his chest and he placed one over yours too.

“We could do a loose knot on your wrists for now. And if you don't like it we can just be vanilla.” He was smirking, you nod, burying your face shyly against his chest, inhaling his scent.

“I trust you.” Gojo somehow has you naked and in some fucking pirate worthy knot in mere seconds, before you can barely blink. He pulls your wrist down a bit, glossy lips smirking.

"Too tight?”

You test the ropes, shaking your head, and then he gently sits you on the bed, standing over you, tilting your chin up. You eagerly look down at his cock, licking a lower lip, and enjoy the instant reaction you see.

“Want it in that pretty mouth?” You nod quickly, and sit there patiently, hands unable to grab him. He's ridiculously gentle as he frees his cock from his boxers and places it in your inviting mouth, moaning softly, hands in your hair, guiding your head up and down his shaft.

Each stroke you tried to lick different areas, finding what made him tick, what made him lose control, enjoying the tension in his arms, in his voice as he was whispering your name over and over like a mantra. You peek up and see his head is back, veins in his throat prominent, before he peers back down.

His eyes are animalistic, unreal in how blue they'd become with his eyes dilated to pin points. Eyes like the sky. You tasted the precum on his tip, tongue swirling, lost in him.

He pulled away suddenly, and you pouted, wanting more.

“I was having fun!”

“Time for my fun.”

He laid on the bed, on his back, legs hanging off and feet on the floor. He beckons you with a finger until you straddle him, pulling you higher and higher until your legs are on either side of his face, fucking scandalous you think. 

“Satoru!”

“Sit on my face, baby girl.” He ordered, and you hesitate, making him yank you by the rope now, until you're bent forward, pussy right open in his face. “Getting shy again?”

“What if I like, suffocate you?!” He laughed, and you jolted as it hit your sensitive pussy.

“Please suffocate me, baby, I want your cum all dripping on my face.” You moan, and he's anchoring you, making you struggle with your core for balance and then his tongue is sliding up your slit, and you're nearly screaming in pleasure, arching against him. His slurping noises are obscene as he drinks your desire.

You're trembling, riding his face now, your hips going back and forth, cumming hard when he moans against your puffy little clit, vibrating it. As pleasure strikes through your body, he's literally fucking inhaling you at this point, hand gripping your ass hard. You fall apart on him, crying out, shaking as you grind on his face, tongue fucking you through it.

You struggle to get up, it was too much, but he holds you there, and a finger drifts up from the wet entrance of your pussy and up to your ass entrance, making you tense, he slides it in the tiniest bit, a fingertip, continuing the ridiculous pace of his tongue. At the new and foreign sensation along with possibly your favorite thing in the world, Gojo’s pussy eating expertise, you rock back and forth in mindless pleasure.

You fall backwards when the orgasm rocks through you hard, he hangs on to your hips, you’re so weak. You see Gojo's face is drenched and shimmering under you as you’re straddling his chest. You laugh like mad, breathy, and he's grinning like a psycho with you.

“That… that tongue is like the devil.” You mumble. He laughs, sitting up and sliding you down, positioning you above his cock. You throw your head back, trembling, as he uses the rope to pull you down onto his length, slipping in your throbbing pussy with ease.

“See I told you, you’re freaky. You liked that, becoming my little slut.” You didn’t deny it, simply sinking back down on his cock.

“Yes, yours…” You mumble incoherently, his nostrils flare at your words, their intent clear as you keep his gaze, rolling your hips on him, pressing him so deep it ached.

“That's it.” He caressed your breasts, before taking your tied hands and leaning them on his chest, pushing you forward more. “Yes, sit down on this cock. Mmm. Just like that.”

His words pushed you further every time he spoke.

“Mnh! So good I-fuck!” Gojo hit some spot deep, and you started to feel your climax hitting again, as he slid a hand down to your clit, making you come then and there. It pulsed through you, your entire body reacting, pussy tightening around him again, making you weak.

“You're taking me so well.” His voice was quiet, words so calm, sucking in a breath as your pussy soaked his stomach as wetness seeped out, cunt pressed so tight around him.

“Love…” Don’t do it. Too soon. “Love… this. Love your cock. Feels so good, so so good.” Your words ran together, slurring like you were drunk damn near, the ecstacy shut your brain function down.

Satoru raised a brow with a half smile. As if he fucking knew what you meant. “I love this little pussy, too. Fucking goddess riding my dick.”

You struggle at his words, knowing he literally looks like a god, you were merely a mess barely able to hold it together.

Gojo's dick is stretching you further beyond your means, and your orgasm rocks you so hard again you can't move anymore, trembling, gasping for breath. His dick is against your walls, impossibly harder, and he's fucking into you now, tearing you apart, slick sweat forming between your bodies.

He shoves up into you hard, tensing then, pretty white teeth biting his lower lip, those dilated eyes narrowed, thin brows low. “Do you want this cum inside you?”

You nod fervently, hanging on to him as best you could, but then he flips you on your back, tied arms up above your head now, shoving your legs up against your chest, cock going in impossibly deep. You cry out in pain as it fills you too much, too much. He grabs your face as his arms press your thighs flush, pussy open to him fully.

“You'd be so pretty with my fucking baby in you.” He whispered, and it made you wetter, more sensitive, pussy throbbing for his cum to fill you, for more of his words that did nearly as much as his touch.

“Put one in me, please, Satoru. I promise, I can take all of it, all your cum… Oh please.” You’re begging him, without any of his prompting, and watch the madness fill his gaze as your body bumps up and down with each powerful stroke.

“Take it all then.” He bit out the words, and then shoved all the way, bottoming out nearly, you scream, wiggling, and his cock pumps his hot cum in you, pulling just a bit back to shove it in more. Satoru groans, his own body shaking, kissing you. You drink his soft moans as he and you both lay there, cum starting to fall out now.

“Satoru…” He eased out of you gently, untying your wrists with deft hands, and began rubbing life back into them. They'd gone numb.

“You like wasting my cum, little brat.” He made you tense, then his fingers shoved it back in you. Again. Again. Again.

“Ah! Fuck…” You’re sobbing now and he's cooing above you.

“What's wrong, little slut?”

“N-nothing. I can take it.” He smiles, clearly pleased, long fingers easing out. He shoved them in your mouth, so deep, gagging and choking you, making hot tears start falling.

“My pretty girl is crying?” You nod, gasping, pussy still throbbing from your orgasms, struggling to come down to Earth. “Clean all this mess you made.”

Gojo kneels before you, and you get on your hands and knees, ready to do whatever he asks, but your body is weak. Mind weak. Gojo put his cock in your mouth, still massive after cumming, big hand grabbing your messy hair and wrapping it around his fist.

You eagerly lick and suck tasting a mix of tanginess and sweetness. You'd do anything for him, to please him, it was pathetic what he made you into. You're sucking off both of your cum, his trembling hand the only sign he wasn't in total control, shoving deep in your throat, and you took him as much as you could. He tilts your chin up, looking down at you, wiping your sticky tears and pulling away.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, brushing your hair back. “You did such a good job.”

“I did?” You ask, and he exhales, hugging you to him, caressing you so gently. You were still crying however, your chest heaving with your sobbing, unable to stop your shaking.

“Hey, hey, you alright baby?”

You nod, clearing your throat, snuggling against him. “It was just a lot… like too much…”

“Overstimulation?” You nod, and peek up at him, eyes still glittering with tears. “You can tell me to stop whenever you know. I want it to be fun for you.”

“No, I like it a lot. A lot. It's just also really overwhelming. Like losing my mind. Then when I come to I'm just…”

“Spent.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I'll take it easy with you next time. I'll make it sweet.”

You giggle at that, breathing still erratic. “You, sweet sex?”

“You doubt me?” You nod and he glares. “I can be sweet for you. Recover, and next time I'll show you. Make love to you and everything.”

“Mmm don't believe you.” He laughed, rocking you in his arms, pecking little kisses all over your head.

He pinched your cheek. “Let's clean up and get you some dinner.” He picked you up in his arms, and your head fell, tired against his chest, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Mmm. Kay.” You mumble, and he takes you to his bathroom, starting a shower. “Gojo we'll just fuck in there and I'm really exhausted.”

He smirked back at you. “I will not, if you just try to not be such a dick hungry slut.”

“Dick! Am not!”

“No?” He turns to you, naked, gorgeous, and your pussy is hurting, wrecked, but you realized he was kinda right.

“Nope.” You lie. He grins.

“Liar. All right, get in here and let me wash you up.” You walk to the large shower, marble and granite tile, three shower heads. It was luxurious.

The steam is hitting you, hot water is pounding on sore flesh, and Satoru Gojo is there, taking care of you.

You love it.

***

Two days later

You had woken up, getting ready as was routine, anticipating seeing Satoru, but then you peered down and saw it. A call from your brothers. Then a message, asking if you were okay because they knew how hard today was. You frown, brows furrowed in confusion, then it hits you like a goddamn tidal wave.

The tenth anniversary of their passing.

Had you been so happy lately you didn’t remember?

A decade since the world shattered, leaving you with a gaping hole where your parents once resided. It all starts hitting you, the guilt you felt for them having died and you having been in that car, having survived. It starts to shatter your psyche, your lungs cannot get air, and then you’re hyperventilating, blood pressure so high your ears are ringing and you’re bright red.

“No. No. No.” You hold your head, shaking it, hands in your hair, and then you fall apart.

You can’t let anyone see you like this. Every year you take off for this reason, but today it’s worse. You were so happy. How could you be happy today? What did it mean? Were you just so far entrapped in Satoru that these thoughts had been shoved away? Maybe you were.

You wanted him with you so badly. You craved his comfort, his voice, his touch, but no way could you bring him into this.

An hour later the world feels blurry, muted, devoid of the vibrancy it once held. Every corner echoes with their absence, every scent triggers a memory, every sound a phantom whisper of their laughter. You look to their pictures, making it all fucking worse, thinking of the jewelry you had of their ashes that is just shoved up in a little box because it hurt so bad.

You couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t see this dark side of you. The panic stricken anxious mess. You had to keep it together or he’d be scared, and fuck if you hadn’t fallen head over heels for him. He texted you. You were never, ever late. You ignored it, though it hurt to do so.

He called then, and you took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. “Hey Satoru, I’m sorry… I can’t come in today.”

“What? Are you okay?” Gojo asked softly over the phone. You struggle to find the words as you peer at the picture of your family. Happy. Smiling.

“Um… I'm kind of exhausted. I'm so sorry, Satoru. I'll definitely come to the work tomorrow though! I will be at the award ceremony too. I won't miss it. It's just today.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell him. The truth felt too heavy, too raw

You hear a sigh. “You never call in, fuck you’re never even late, so I got worried. I just saw you… is something wrong?”

“It's not… I promise I want to see you. I swear. I just can’t come today, I’ll make up whatever tomorrow.” You whisper the words. He's silent but you can hear him thrumming his fingers on his desk.

“Of course you can miss today if you need to. I'm never gonna be that asshole boss again to you. You work hard enough.”

You exhale in relief, smiling. God things had changed so much. “Thank you so much. I… I'll miss you until tomorrow.”

“You're being sweet, now I’m really worried. That's just weird. Do you need me to check on you? I will come over now.”

“No, I'm good!” Liar.

“Hmm. Okay, tonight?”

“No no don’t worry. Promise. Just need rest. I'll text you later.”

It hurt. You wanted to ask him to stay, wanted him to come over, his hug, his presence. But how could you put that grief on him? When it's still so new. He couldn't see you this way. Disheveled, mascara streaks, hair fucking messy and wearing his clothes for comfort. You wanted to drink wine, eat ice cream and fucking cry and it was just 9 am.

You missed them… and a new found pain was here, the pain you felt because you wished so terribly he could have met them… you…

“Baby, you there?” You clear your throat at his concerned question, shaking yourself out of your reverie.

“I'm here. Sorry. I… have to go. See you soon, promise.”

“Baby girl… I…” You nearly broke down at that. As he then said your name so softly. “Call me if you need anything, okay? Please let me know you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Satoru, I will! Promise.” You hang up, and place the phone on your dresser, then you just slide to the soft carpet below, curling up in a ball and holding yourself.

The call ended, but a knot of guilt twisted in your stomach. Gojo was trying and you were lying to him. Even if his antics sometimes bordered on the absurd, he was always honest with you. Why couldn’t you show him your full self, when he was so uniquely himself?

Because you were terrified to lose him.

You'd have to call your brothers now, to support them. You'd have to make sure to call your grandparents. You know this was even harder on them. But you didn't really wanna think today. Didn't want to feel. This overwhelming grief that shouldn't be here after this long. But it's always this day, always…

Fuck. You hated today.

***

The day dragged on, lonely after you’d cried it out with your brothers, with your grandparents, punctuated by the silence of your empty apartment. The echoes of your past had hot tears streaming down your face, blurring the memories that refused to be silenced. Blurring everything.

You choked alone on your grief.

Your stomach growled because you had not eaten since last night, and it was now about Four PM, but you wanted to vomit. You just were a ball of despair on your little couch, cuddled still in Satoru’s clothes, wishing you would be brave enough to answer his call, his text, but you weren’t brave. You still hadn’t even told him how you felt, so scared of everything.

You were just a crumpled mess of blankets and tears when there was a knock on the door. You didn’t bother to answer, to respond, just lay there, and then you heard it, his voice. You ached to get up, to go to the door, but you could not bring yourself to move, to have him see you in this way, so weak and pathetic, the opposite of him, so strong.

He was calling out your name, and before you knew it, he just walked in, a bag of food from his favorite place in one arm, looking to the right and then the left before those bright blue eyes landed on you. Gojo's smile faltered, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a worried frown. He instantly put everything down and walked over to you.

“What the fuck! What’s wrong?” He sat you up, brows drawn together, studying your red puffy face. “Baby girl, please, you can tell me. Did something happen?”

“N-No.” You shake your head, your whole body is shaking.

“Come here.” Then Gojo took you in his arms, a silent embrace that somehow understood your pain, even though you had not told him why. He just held you there so tight.

You clung to him, your body trembling with a grief you couldn't articulate. He didn't ask for explanations, didn't push, just held you tight, his warmth a beacon in the darkness. For a while, you just stayed there, letting him sway you side to side, sobbing against his chest, inhaling his scent, and you realized that his presence truly made you feel whole.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” You were sobbing out the words, and he was shushing you, shaking his head, brushing your messy hair back.

“Why are you sorry? Stop that. I’m here, okay?” You nodded, gasping for breath, arms around his neck. He eases you back a bit, and you’d never seen him this way, as if he were afraid for you. He gently caressed your face. “Wanna talk about it? It may help.”

You take a small breath, and he hands you the box of tissues, you take one gratefully and blow your nose. He waits patiently. And you love him so much it hurts your heart in an entirely different way.

“Thank you for being here. I didn’t mean to worry you.” You smile sadly, hand on his face. He puts his atop yours, leaning into the embrace, attentive gaze unwavering on you.

“I have been worried sick all day but I didn’t wanna be a psycho. More psycho than I already am.” He smirked a bit, and you let out a tremulous smile. “I figured I’d just leave work early when you wouldn’t write back.”

“I’m glad you came. I should have just told you.”

“Told me what?”

“It’s the tenth anniversary of the car crash.” It’s silent, save for his steady breathing and your erratic breaths. His hand tightens on your own, letting you speak. “I get sad every year. I feel guilty. Especially this year, because I damn near didn’t remember, I’ve been so… happy with you.”

He held you against him again, firm, arms wrapping tight as he pulled you on his lap. “Why would you feel guilty about being happy?”

“Because… it’s like I’m forgetting.” You break down again, and he’s there for you, so sweet, so strong. “Fuck I didn’t want you to have to see this.”

“We’re together now. You’re mine. I will see you like this and it will not change any fucking feelings I have. Got it?” His words were husky, voice breaking, holding either side of your face. You fall apart worse.

“I… should have… told you. Fuck. I just…”

“Shh, stop.” You’re shaking, and his grip is tight. “Don’t you think they would want you happy?”

“Yeah.” You blow your nose again. “But I feel bad.”

“Stop that. You don’t think they’d want their daughter to move on? To find her own happiness, versus working herself to death and being fucking lonely.”

“Ouch.” The words were harsh, but true. He glares at you.

“This is not what they would want. I’m not them, and I didn’t know them, but I know damn well they’d be proud of you.” That broke the last defense you had, and now your tears were falling so fast tissues wouldn’t help.

“You think so?” You blink rapidly, and his smile is sad, his blue eyes just like the sky, just like him, so complex and so beautiful. And you were just a mess. And he still held you, despite everything.

“I know so. I know that when I have kids that they’ll be the most important thing to me, and their happiness.” His words made you melt. You clung to him, kissing him with chapped lips, and he clung to you, sighing into your mouth. “You’d make them super fucking proud, just look at you.”

“Look at me? A fucking mess.” You laugh erratically, and he smirks a little, pecking little kisses on your sticky face.

“You sure are. But I mean in general. Helping your brothers, law school grad, successful business woman. Kind human. There’s a lot to say good about you. You’re not just a stuck up bitch you know.” You sigh, and other thoughts converge. You get quiet. “Let me clean you up. Okay?”

You nod, then, he gently led you to the bathroom, sitting you up on your white counter, and starts running the water. He started helping you wash your face, brushing your hair. He didn't say anything then, he was just quiet, but his touch was soothing, his silence a balm for your aching soul, the presence of him bringing brightness to the darkness.

“Thank you so much. Really.” You murmur, as he applies a little vaseline to your lips, before pulling you down and turning you. You look all pink and your eyes are swollen, but Gojo is there, behind you. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles at that.

“I know I am.” Gojo winks at you in the mirror, and he puts your hair up into a ponytail now, leaning low to kiss your cheek. “Better?”

You nod. “There was another thing that made it all worse today. And if I say it maybe you’ll think-”

“You can say anything.” He cut you off, and you turn in his arms, leaning your head back to peer up at him.

“It was worse because I thought to myself how they’ll never meet you.” Your tears burn your itchy eyes, and Gojo is silent, jaw tense, his own eyes glimmering with emotion as his thumbs brush your cheeks in little circles. He clears his throat, studying you carefully, lips parting.

“You would have wanted that?” He asked, and you felt his vulnerability then, needing that reassurance. You nod fervently, leaning up on tiptoes, pulling him down to face you.

“More than fucking anything. And I won’t have it. I even think further, to crazy shit I shouldn’t…”:

“Just say it all.” His own voice is raw with emotion. Vivid pictures of what could never be poured out everywhere as you clung to him.

“If we… I know it’s some kink… I get it. But it makes me think, if we did, have babies…” You gulped, and his eyes didn’t leave yours, jaw clenched. “That they wouldn't even have grandparents from my end.” You barely hold it together, and his eyes flicker, sighing, grabbing your face tight, making you face him.

“You are going through all this pain alone, for what?” He asked, and you shake your head, unable to speak anymore. You’ve already said too much and shown too much. “You are thinking of all these things out of your control.”

“I know. I know. And they’re stupid.”

“No.” His voice is firm as his grip. “They’re not stupid. It’s fucked what happened to you, they are things you’ll miss, but you can’t let it swallow you. Especially when I am right here with you.” You love him so much deeper than you even thought possible, fall deeper into the bottomless feelings for him, as he reassures you.

“You’re right. I appreciate you so much, Satoru, so much.” He kisses you then, firm, exhaling into your lips, arms falling down to wrap around your hips.

“It’s not just a kink by the way.” He whispered, and you tense, pulling back to look incredulously at him.

“I thought…”

“Yeah, I know… but if it happened, they’d have us. They would have all kinds of love. Wouldn’t they?” Your heart thumps in your chest at the implications of your conversation, and you nod, seeing a hint of relief, as he lowers tense shoulders just a bit. “There’s also other family of yours that I can meet. If you want.”

“That’s very true. They’d all love you.” You watch him, leaning above you, and you manage a small smile. “You have made me feel so much better. I guess I just have to try to let this guilt go.”

“I told you that you’re mine. That means I’ll take care of you.” You fall easily into his soft kisses, unlike anything you two had shared, intense in how emotional it was, the room so quiet as your body was going crazy with each touch.

“And I will be there for you. Whenever you need me. That’s pretty fucking corny, isn’t it?”

He grinned, a little sparkle of mischief back in his eyes. “We’re both being pretty corny today. I am mad at you though.”

You pout, sighing. “You are?”

“You didn’t trust me enough to let me take care of you.”

You bury your head against his chest. “It wasn’t that, I knew you would, it was that I didn’t wanna ruin this by seeing me this way.”

“You won’t ruin anything. Okay?” You nod, blissful as you two just stand there in your little bathroom, hugging. Then, your tummy growls, and you flush in embarrassment as he laughs. “Have you eaten?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“That’s what I’d thought. Come on crybaby.” You snort, smacking at him half heartedly, and he brings you back to the kitchen. “We gotta heat it up.”

“I got it.” You prep the microwave, and he’s kissing down your neck as you two wait for the food to warm up. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Gojo’s hand is hot, pressing on your tummy, the other on your waist, hands so big they nearly took over your body.

“I feel so safe with you. More corny things said today.” He smiled against your neck as he pressed a kiss to it.

“So corny. And such a crybaby. Had all that snot running down your nose.” You elbow him, and then you’re both laughing, holding your stomachs as you play fight around the kitchen.

“You were so sweet, you just had to be a little bit of a dick, huh?”

“Of course, who would I be if I wasn’t just a little?” He wiggled his brows, and then you two sat down, nibbling. Your hands still shake as you eat.

“This reminds me of last week, when you first came here.” You mused, and he nodded, hand on your thigh under the table, the weight reassuring.

“You’ll find it hard to get rid of me, now. I literally just let you sob on my expensive fucking shirt and everything.” He feigns disgust, making you laugh more. You both fall into a comfortable state, chatting, feeding each other, and soon you find yourself exhausted, yawning.

“I really need some clothes for you here.” You say, stretching in the only outfit of his here. His eyes look up and down your body.

“You like those, huh?”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair that escaped from your ponytail nervously, flushing. “They made me feel less lonely.”

You both are silent, and you curse yourself for being pathetic, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to make some joke to ease the tension, but he’s kissing you, deeply, leaning across the little table. You fall into it, breath now racing for an entirely different reason than earlier, the intensity of your feelings starting to become absolutely impossible to ignore anymore.

Loved him.

You loved him.

You felt loved, even if it wasn’t said, it was there.

His kiss was a lifeline, Gojo was your lifeline, pulling you back from the abyss of despair. You felt a sliver of hope flicker within you, a tiny spark of light in the darkness, bright as his eyes, as his soul. An ache builds in your chest, and you’re sitting on him now, cradled in his lap, and his hands are warm and hard as they’re under your shirt, on your back.

“Hmm. I’ll just have Kiyotaka bring me some clothes.” He says, and you smile.

“You don’t have to stay tonight, Satoru, it’s fine.”

“Hush brat.” He slips into his pocket, texting him, still having you wrapped around him as if it were just a normal thing. It felt so good. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

 You exhale, smiling. “Good, I didn’t want you to go.”

“Speak your mind more, then, little nun.” He taps your nose, and soon you two are cleaning up, and you change into your pink silky jammies, when you come back out Gojo has clothes already.

You let him get changed, and as the night wore on, you two had popped on a movie and he had blankets and pillows ready on the couch, you notice he’d cleaned up your pile of tissues. Then you were sipping on wine together. You laughed, cried more, but mostly just were so enwrapped in him that it felt like he was the very home you’d longed for.

You feel your eyelids getting heavy, and soon Gojo had taken the wine glass out of your hand. You blink a bit, so exhausted it’s hard to focus, and he picked you up in his arms.

“I’m always having to carry you all over.” He teased, and you smiled, feeling fuzzy as you lay down in your bed. Gojo sits there, running his long fingers through your hair, and sleep pulls at you.

“I sleep a lot around you… be… cuz I… comfy with you.” You mumble, in and out of consciousness. Did you even speak or think? You weren’t sure.

“Is that what it is? Need some cocaine?” You snort, snuggling deeper against the silky pillow, craving that hand that caressed your hair like it was a lifeline.

“No. Just comfy Satoru.”

“Mmm… you’re so cute when you’re sleepy.” You feel his lips press your temple, and you smile happily when you feel his weight shift, coming behind you and wrapping arms around your body tight.

“Comfy comfy… Satoru.” He laughs, and then you are drifting off to sleep, nestled in the warmth of his embrace.

Satoru stayed awake, watching over you as you slept, so pretty, so exhausted. He was glad he was ‘comfy’ as you murmured, silly little thing that you were. He was glad he could bring you any peace, for the pain you felt was like a knife to his heart, your words about you wanting him to meet your family had broken him. The sadness you bore alone…

He sighed, and his hand was gently stroking your hair, silky now from all of his brushing, earlier it had been in knots. Always so put together, he never knew how much you held in. He listened to your careful breathing, thinking how precious you had become to him.

You start to rustle, your pretty full lips parting. In your sleep, you suddenly murmured, “I love you, Satoru.”

Gojo froze then, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe his ears. The words whispered in your dreams startled him. Was it real? Was it…

“Do you?” He asked softly, craving your words then, craving your very being, pulling you tighter against him. His lips were on your ear.

“I love you… so much… Satoru. Love. Mmm. Don’t leave me. Please." His heart couldn’t have hurt more, at the desperation, even in your sleep. He felt unwanted emotion in his eyes threatening to fall.

Your words, even in your sleep, felt like a confession, a declaration of love that mirrored his own unspoken feelings, ones he was himself scared of. As brave as he acted, losing you would destroy him. Even today he’d been so scared he’d fucked it up somehow... that you were done… and he was glad he came over, glad he could cheer your pretty face up, that he made you comfy.

You were comfy to him too.

Without you, he didn’t sleep.

Gojo held you tighter, his lips brushing your hair, and fell asleep right beside you, falling into the comfortable sound of your heart beating and your steady breaths. He would do anything for you.

***

When you woke, the sun was filtering through the curtains, casting golden rays across the room. You stretch, yawning, and reach across from you to find that Gojo was already up. You frown for a moment, worried he’d left, but then the aroma of bacon and pancakes filled the air, a comforting scent that brought a smile to your face. You stand and head to the kitchen.

There he is, all tall and shirtless, fucking gorgeous man, and he’s making you breakfast. You come and smack his butt playfully, he jerks, turning and taking out an ear bud with a devilish grin.

“I could get used to this, too.” You say, and yank him for a little kiss.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He said, hugging you. “Are you feeling a little better?” You nod.

“Much, much better. This smells so good.”

“You need to eat more. I told you, I won’t have you losing this ass.” He grabs a handul and you blush, much to his delight.

“I’ll make coffee!” You pop a coffee pod, grabbing the creamer, and it’s just so easy with him, like you two had done this for years. “Are we late for work?”

“Nah it’s early still. Thank you.” You hand him a cup first, with tons of sugar as he liked, then set to working on yours. “Have a seat, let me serve you milady.”

You giggle, taking your hot cup of coffee, sitting at the table and watching him work his magic. “I didn’t even know you cooked.”

“I love to cook.” Your heart is swelling with a mix of gratitude and an emotion you couldn't quite name. He sits a plate down for you, and you both dig in, the pancakes are so fluffy you’re moaning.

“So yummy!” You continue to nibble, and he’s watching you, with a serious look on his face. You frown. “What’s wrong?”

He looks away, almost as if he was shy, Gojo shy? No way.

“Last night when you slept…”

“Did I snore?” You tease, but he’s just forking his food, seriously. “Did I take all the blankets?”

“Nah.” He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, and your anxiety rised a bit, taking a bite yourself and trying to stay calm.

“What was it?” His eyes were bright blue as the sun filtered through the window, his hair was falling soft against his forehead, breathtakingly handsome across from you. It made you tremble. “Now I’m nervous. Just say it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking away, once again as if he were shy or something, it threw you off. You lick your lips nervously, waiting. “Well, you kind of talk in your sleep.”

You sigh in relief, laughing. “Oh, I always have.”

“Yeah…”

“Did I say weird shit?” You pick up another bite, mood cheery now, but then his next words…

“You said you loved me.”

Your fork clatters to the plate, making a shockingly loud clang, and your eyes are wide, mouth open in a startled gasp.

Chapter 11

Ao3 chap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/142312984

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 5

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Here be smut. 😊 Light oral (m receiving), handjob, conversations about sex.

Word Count: 3,751

A/N: Here's Ch. 6. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag List

Dean watched Y/N's chest rise and fall and felt the warm air escape from her slightly parted lips onto his shoulder where her head lay. Her lashes lay fanned against cheeks - cheeks that seemed pale, as though she wasn't getting enough rest. He let her sleep longer than he wanted; she seemed to need it and it allowed him time to study her features and imprint them in his memory. 

He'd be gone tomorrow, at noon. He had no idea when he would get back here. He never visited more than once a year at most. His family's business was very demanding and time consuming, and he needed to be in New York to run it. But as he brushed his finger down Y/N's cheek, he suddenly wished he could stay longer…much longer.

Or even better, he wished Y/N would reconsider his offer to be his mistress. Then he could come to see her several times a week, maybe more if she was amenable. He didn't want to upset her though, in their last hours together, so he decided to keep that hope to himself.

He was grateful, when she stirred and her eyes opened. There weren't many hours left.

She was clearly confused as she opened her eyes and didn't recognize where she was right away. When she looked at him though, he could see memory dawn, and chuckled at the predictable blush that bloomed in her cheeks.

She sat up slightly, pulling the sheet up higher to cover herself. "How long have I been sleeping? What time is it?"

"You've only been out about an hour. It's nearly two o'clock." He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She ducked her head. "I should go. I shouldn't have stayed."

He ran his knuckles down her bare arm. "Is that what you really want?"

She looked up at him and hesitated before answering. "No, it isn't."

"What do you want?" He asked, desire flooding his gaze.

A million emotions crossed her face, too quick for him to read them properly.

"I have a question."

He nodded.

"How long does it take to know if I'll have a baby?"

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Well, I know women carry babies for 9 months, but how long before I can tell if I'm with child?"

Dean's frown deepened. "No time at all. I can tell you right now. You're not with child."

Her eyes widened. "How can you tell?" She looked down at herself, looking under the sheet at her stomach as though looking for a message there.

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Because we didn't do what we'd need to in order to make a baby."

Her head snapped up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Y/N, what do you think has to happen to make a baby?"

She blushed harder. "A man and woman take off their clothes and lay in bed and the man does something and hopefully a baby comes. At least, usually it's hopeful when the man and woman are married."

Dean put his hand to his mouth, and studied her. How had she gotten to the age of twenty-six without knowing the basic biological necessities of procreating?

Y/N turned to face him more fully. "So, do you mean, that what you did to me," her skin was on fire, "that wasn't the marriage act?"

"The what?"

"The marriage act. I only know a little from friends at school. That's what they said had to happen to make a baby, and Mrs. Oliver called it the marriage act. Is that not what it's called?"

Dean pushed a hand through his hair and tried not to laugh. "Well, we're not married, so it wouldn't make sense to call it that. But no, what we did was not the marriage act, and no babies will result from it."

Y/N looked distinctly relieved for a moment before looking puzzled again. "So, if we didn't participate in the marriage act, does that mean…am I still chaste?"

Dean didn't think chaste described her screaming release of an hour ago, but he didn't want to embarrass her, so he just nodded. "Yes, you remain a virgin. That's why I did it that way."

"There are other ways to do it?" The question seemed to pop out of Y/N's mouth before she could stop it because she clapped a hand over her mouth and ducked her head again. "I'm sorry, what a question to ask."

But Dean answered anyway. "Yes, there are many, many other ways of making love."

In spite of her fiery blush, Y/N asked, "Is that what you call it? Making love?"

"Well, there are a lot of other things it's called too, but that's one."

Y/N nodded and then grabbed hold of his hand.

"Dean, could you teach me about making love?" She must have been startled by the heat and desire he knew flooded his expression because she quickly amended her statement. "I mean, could you tell me about making love? I have no one else I could ever ask, and I'd like to know."

Dean had no idea what to say. He was quiet for a minute and Y/N shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's a horrible question to ask. I'm sorry."

"No, Y/N, don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for, I just…" he paused for a moment, "…I've just never talked about it with a woman."

"So, you don't talk when you're making love." It was a statement and she sounded like she was taking notes.

"Well, I mean, yes, you talk, but not…" He shoved a hand through his hair. "…usually the conversation isn't so…it's just a different kind of talking."

Her expression was innocent and questioning and he cleared his throat, determined to answer the questions she had.

"Alright so, I don't know how well I'll be able to answer all your questions, but I'll try. Go ahead." He braced himself.

Only two bright patches of red showed in her cheeks when she asked again, "How are babies made?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Well, men have a…" he cleared his throat and started over. "Women have…" he raked his hand through his hair again. This was a very strange conversation to be having. He realized he needed more information.

"Y/N, what do you know? I mean do you know what a man looks like?" he asked. "I mean, the parts you don't usually see." He amended.

She gestured to his torso. "Just what's in front of me." She said, smiling shyly.

"So, you've never seen a naked man, not even in a painting? Or a sculpture?"

She looked away, and gave a small shrug. "There weren't a lot of paintings or sculptures like that at my school."

He grinned. "I guess not. But since you've been out of school?"

She looked at him again. "I haven't exactly gone looking for them."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

Her face brightened. "Oh, I did see a painting of a naked cherub once."

Dean couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. She smiled and looked sheepish.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, really. I just can't imagine many men would want a woman to believe they resembled a naked cherub."

She rewarded him with one of her adorable wide grins. "No, I imagine not." She reached up and ran a hand from his shoulder down to his elbow, her grin melting away into a look of hunger. "And I can't imagine anything that looks less like a cherub."

She studied his body for a moment and her gaze alone made his already hard cock feel close to bursting. She pulled her hand away and tucked the sheet more firmly around her. Dean tried to force his body under control.

"So," she said, trying to bring them back on track, "you were saying?"

"Right." He cleared his throat. It seemed very dry all of a sudden. "So, men have a…uh…a kind of…um…" He looked at her face, and came up with the best word he could to describe it. "They have a shaft."

Y/N's face was quizzical. He continued. "And women have…well, I mean you know what your own body looks like." Her face looked confused now. "I mean, you know what…I mean, surely you've looked at yourself."

Comprehension flooded her expression along with a lot of embarrassment. "No, of course not. I mean, not really." She was acutely embarrassed and she wouldn't look him in the eye. "I mean, of course I've never looked, it's…well, it's sinful!" She exclaimed, as though he was mad for not realizing that.

It made him very sad to hear her say such a thing and he took her chin in his hand to force her to focus on him. "Y/N, it's your own body. It is literally the body God created for you, how on earth could it be sinful to look at it?"

While she tried to absorb his words, he decided to just tell her straight. "So, men have a shaft and women have an opening into their body. It's the opening that babies come out of," he paused, "and I suppose the opening where they're put in as well. Men have a um…a seed that comes from their shaft and they put their shaft into the woman's body and plant their seed. A baby grows from there."

He wasn't sure that was the best explanation, especially because Y/N looked slightly horrified.

She opened and closed her mouth several times before managing to speak. "So, if I want a baby, I have to let a man stick a shaft into a hole in my body." Her face was scrunched up and full of disgust. He had to admit that when it was summed up that way it did not sound very pleasant. He decided that if he didn't want to leave her completely terrified he should clarify things a little.

"I know it sounds very…mechanical and cold, but it's not when it's happening." He moved closer to her on the bed and cupped her cheek. "It's just like earlier, when I touched you and tasted you, it's the same kind of heat." He bent his head and kissed her slow, and sweet. She responded immediately, trying to deepen the kiss. But he pulled away; he wasn't trying to start her desire up all over again. "See, not cold or mechanical."

She raised a hand to her mouth and shook her head, a little sadly he thought. "No, not cold." She smiled softly.

She looked into his eyes. "Can I…" she paused for a moment. "Could I see it? See you, I mean?"

His blood started pumping overtime and he shifted away from her again. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Her face was suddenly flooded with red and she shook her head quickly. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, Dean. What a horrible thing to ask for, I'm…sorry…" she trailed off in embarrassment and Dean wanted to kick himself.

He grabbed her hand with both of his and brought it to his chest. "Please look at me." When she did, he continued, "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. When it is me and you, together like this, I promise you that there is nothing you could ask, nothing you could ask for, and nothing you could tell me that is wrong, or sinful, or terrible. The space between us here," he pressed his hand to the sheet that covered her chest before bringing his hand back to press against his own chest. "…this space is sacred. It's magic. There's nothing that can't be said."

She blushed but she nodded. "Alright."

Suddenly her expression became quizzical, and she was staring at his pants. "Why aren't you naked? You kept your pants on. You said not to hide, but you're hiding. Why?"

He sighed and chuckled lightly. He let go of her hand. "For the same reason I said that it wasn't a good idea for you to…look at me. Because I'm doing everything I can to control myself, and that might be too much."

"Control yourself?"

"It's better if I have a kind of barrier between me and you. My…um…shaft…" he shook his head over the absurdity of this conversation and the fact that it was making him so incredibly hard. "Let's just say it's very sensitive."

Y/N thought about his words for a moment. "So, you're still aching. You didn't…come apart, like me?"

Her expression was worried and she bit her bottom lip, a gesture that made him think his pants might not actually make much of a difference for very long.

"No, I didn't." He said succinctly.

"Well, that hardly seems fair."

He smiled a strained smile. "It's fine. I'm fine."

She frowned at him. "So, you don't…I see…you don't ache for me the way I ache for you. It's different? Like the difference between me kissing you and you kissing me? You don't need me to fix it for you?"

She looked sad and Dean swore softly. "Y/N, you have no idea how much I ache, how desperate I am to have you touch me, kiss me, fix me. But I'm trying to abide by your wishes. I'm trying to keep you a virgin, and there's only so much torment a man can take. If you look at me and touch me, I'm going to spill my seed, and I am trying to spare you that."

She looked like she was trying to work something out. "And if you spill your seed, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore and I might have a baby?"

He took a deep breath and swallowed. "No, only if I was inside you." With every word of this conversation, his pants felt tighter, and he felt closer to bursting.

Y/N shrugged. "Then why can't I help you feel better, the way you helped me?"

Dean tried to come up with an explanation, but all he could manage was to shake his head as his body screamed for release.

Y/N moved closer to him and reached for the button on his pants. He grabbed her wrist quickly to stop her. They sat like that a moment, before Y/N whispered. "Don't hide yourself from me."

Her words and the look of desire and heat that flooded her gaze tore down the last of Dean's control, and he sagged back against the pillows, dropping her wrist.

She shifted so that she was sitting on her knees beside him and reached for his top button again. She undid it and pulled down his pants and underwear at once. He lifted his hips to help her and soon his cock was springing free of the confinement that had tortured him for hours.

Y/N gasped and sat back on her heels. She stared with wide eyes before blurting. "That's supposed to fit inside me? It's too big!"

Dean groaned and laughed at the same time, so it sounded a little like he was coughing. "Damn, you do wonders for a man's confidence." He grinned at her wickedly. "But trust me, it fits."

She stared at him a while longer before leaning forward again and reaching to run her fingers through the line of hair on his stomach. Unlike the last time, he didn't stop her, allowing himself to revel in the sweet torment.

He watched her reach out her hand timidly and touch the head of his shaft with a fingertip. He sucked in a breath from the jolt of fire her touch brought. She pulled back, and looked into his face. "I'm sorry! Did that hurt?"

He shook his head and his voice was very strained. "No, but yes. Sorry that doesn't make sense."

But Y/N nodded and her smile was a little naughty. "Yes, it does. It might not have a couple of hours ago, but it does now. Do you want me to continue?" She seemed to be asking a question to which she already knew the answer.

Y/N looked at Dean, his face taut, his muscles tense, and she knew two things; this was the most beautiful man she would ever see, and she had the power to bring Dean the same kind of fiery torment and blissful release he'd given her.

She reached out to stroke him again.

His hands balled into fists and a guttural sound issued from his lips.

She leaned down and placed a kiss on the very tip of his shaft. His body shuddered and a tiny amount of liquid seeped from the end. She rubbed the liquid into his skin with her forefinger. "Is this your seed?" she asked, still interested in learning. Dean only grunted, but she took it as an affirmative.

She continued to run her fingers up and down the silky smooth skin that covered the ramrod hardness under her hand. Dean's breath came hard and fast. She was having fun exploring, placing a kiss here and there along the length. 

After a few minutes, Dean pushed himself up on his one elbow, moving so that he laid sideways. He took hold of Y/N's hand and showed her how to wrap it around his shaft and move it up and down. Gently at first, and harder and faster as the heat and fire in his gaze built and built. She knew he must be getting close because his body was bucking under her hand just as hers had, instinctively thrusting. The action made something primal in her begin to ache again.

Finally she saw white liquid begin to spurt out of his body before he rolled himself into the sheet and buried his ragged shout into the pillow.

As his body continued to spasm, she ran her hand up and down his hip and over his backside which was round and firm. After his breathing returned to something resembling normal, he rolled onto his back again and Y/N took the chance to lie down across his chest. Her sheet was long gone, but she didn't care. She simply allowed herself to enjoy the amazing feeling of Dean's warm, smooth skin against her own.

She laid her hands on top of each other in the middle of his chest and propped her chin on them, so she could see his face. His eyes were closed and his face was completely relaxed. She drank up the sight of him like this.

He opened his eyes and she stared, drowning in his mossy green eyes. It suddenly occurred to her that this may be one of the last times she would ever look into his magnificent eyes and she felt tears spring up.

Dean frowned and caught a tear on his thumb as it fell. "Hey, what is this?"

She shook her head and smiled slightly. "Oh, it's nothing. I just wish I hadn't waited so long to do this. We could have days. Now we have only hours." She looked at the clock on his bedside. "And not many of those. You're leaving in less than eight hours, and I have to leave your room very soon."

Dean stared at her for a long time before speaking. "Y/N, the last thing I want to do is upset you or make you angry again. But…" he hesitated and in his hesitation, Y/N knew what he was going to say. "Come with me."

Y/N wasn’t insulted this time, and she wasn’t angry, because she knew now how desperately she wanted to do it. She knew what he was really asking of her. He wasn't trying to defile her or make her into something dirty. He was asking her to come and spend the nights with him like this. And she'd spend time with him, letting his sharp, and occasionally silly humor fill her days, she'd go out to parties with him, let him spoil her with jewels and expensive things.

She wanted so badly to say yes. But into the beautiful pictures in her imagination came the blinding knowledge that she'd have to say goodbye to all her other dreams.

She'd never find a compatible husband, or live in a pretty, respectable little cottage, and she'd never have children. She would never allow children to live the shame of her choices. She knew just how it felt to be ostracized and stared at as though you were vermin. She could never put a child through that.

She sat up and pulled the sheet around her again, moving to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just can't."

He sighed. "Why not?"

She looked over her shoulder at him and decided she could give him the truth, plain and simple. "My mother was a kept woman, and I've spent my life trying not to repeat her mistakes, trying to pull myself as far away from her life as possible. I can't simply ignore a lifetime of dreams and hopes."

Dean looked like he wanted to argue and tried to start a sentence several times. But finally he sighed deeply and fell back onto the pillows.

"Fine. I understand."

Tears came again and Y/N knew she had to go now or she might never leave his bed. She got up and picked her nightgown up off the floor.

Dean sat up again. "Wait, why are you leaving now? We have at least another hour before you need to sneak back."

He grabbed her hand as her head emerged from her nightgown and it fell to cover her completely. "Don't go yet."

But she shook her head. "I can't Dean, I…" she swallowed. "If I'm ever going to leave, I have to leave now."

She pulled out his grasp and moved toward the door. Dean pulled his pants up over his hips and followed her. As she reached the door she turned back and smiled at him, tears still falling.

She reached up, placing her palm against his cheek. He took in a quick breath and raised his chin. She felt a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"Thank you, Dean."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You're welcome, Y/N."

She took one long last look into his eyes before she ran out the door, terrified of what she was leaving behind with him.

Tag Lists:

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[frodo-with-glasses]

Where have you been?

Uhhh, France?

(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)

So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.

So what happened?

Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.

Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.

Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.

Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.

But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.

I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.

But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.

My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.

Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.

This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.

Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 14

ISAT Spoilers below the break!

"It seems I must have finally taught you how to properly steep tea over those decades." (Odile comments with a smirk, watching you carefully pour from the kettle into each of your teacups.)

"It only took me 5 of those years to make a decent cup~."

"... The fact I can't tell if that's a joke or not is more concerning than anything else..." (You let out a heavy chuckle at her somewhat worried look. You stick your tongue out a give an exaggerated wink.)

"And it still doesn't count as a wink if you only have one eye Siffrin..."

"You've been telling me that for 30 years Odile, it never sticks~." (She just rolls her eyes as she adds a bit of honey and milk to her tea.)

"Speaking of… How are you doing Siffrin, truly?"

"… I think you already know the answer to that question, Madame" (You tease with the lightest chuckle, though it's bittersweet.)

"I suppose I do, though it would still be nice to hear you say it properly." (You pause for a second, before letting out a sigh.)

"… I don't really know anymore… I guess I'm better than I was the first time around at this point, the first few weeks were really rough for me… It's nice to make some better memories to replace it… But those bad times were still important too…" (You start to explain, your hand wrapping around your covered forearm, as if for emphasis.)

"Those moments helped get you to where you are now… It may have been a painful journey but it was just as important as the destination." (Odile finishes the thought for you, her arms crossed as she gets lost in her own thoughts.)

"… Yeah… I know you don't want me to apologize again for what I said on that last day… So I'll just say thanks Odile, for trusting me with your oh so sacred backstory~." (You laugh. Your eye starts to blur from the tears welling up in it before you wipe them away. Odile just smirks a bit at your comment before rolling her eyes.)

"Yes yes, that and my fake research. I'm simply too generous for my own good." (She remarks sarcastically.)

"Now let's discuss something else, I'm tired of all these emotions."

"Heh, I couldn't agree more."

----------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Odile?" (You ask over your shoulder, fiddling with some thingamajig you found on the shelf. The both of you going on one of your famous 'secret missions' at a little random shop in the town you were passing through.)

"Yes, Siffrin?" (She responded over her shoulder as well, glancing through the various books they had for sale.)

"... There's... I can't stop thinking about something... from, uhh... before." (You begin, trying to dance around the topic without explicitly stating it. She pauses, perking up and waiting, as if telling you to continue.)

"... We all kinda went separate ways eventually, we were still a family of course but... we all had someone else at least... everyone but you Odile..."

"... What is it you're trying to say?"

"I-I'm saying... I don't know if you were happy... It felt like all that you cared about was work, when none of us were left around... You never got a partner, you never talked about friends you made, you..."

"Why are you bringing this up now, Siffrin?"

"... Probably because I never got the chance to before, and I didn't want to let that happen again..."

"I'm not sure how much use there is in talking about something that happens decades from now. What are you proposing anyways?"

"I... I don't know, just... I want you to be happy, I don't want you to be alone..."

"So, what do you intend then? Should I move in with you and Isabeau and stay on the couch forever?" (She asks with a smirk. Your lip curls a bit in response, but quickly falls again.)

"I mean it, Odile..." (She pauses at that, sighing out as she realizes how serious you were.)

"... Very well, Siffrin, I promise I'll keep this in mind... We've got a long road ahead of us until that but maybe things will be different this time around. That's what you're hoping for, yes?"

"In some ways I guess... I mean, these loops have to be for something, right?..."

"Maybe we should be focusing on that right now instead."

"Yeah... I guess you're right." (She suddenly walks over and lifts your hat off, ruffling your hair heavily.)

"You might have some years on me now, but you still overthink just the same." (The both of you laugh the seriousness of the conversation off, finishing up your little trip.)

[n3ptoonz]

Okay but like the whole save a horse ride a cowboy thing… for Arthur?

'Snake on a Train'

THANKS FOR 300+!!🖤🖤❤️❤️

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/F!Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption II

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit, i'm writing this like i'm from the old west bear with me it's really fun, post chapter 6 MEANING he's alive and DOES NOT have TB. never caught it. we live in delusion round these parts. dialogue driven y'all know me i love me some interaction, implied breeding knk, cowgirl, barely proofread writers block is fucking me up

fr tho read this in a southern accent shit is kinda funny i had way too much fun LMAO

i got so many arthur requests then realized i used THIS theme so i'm using this ask i hope those who sent in will find this!!

Word count: 2300

Never trust a "runaway" O'Driscoll ever again. You was on the run now, away from those freaks and needed a proper escape at least for the time being. Why you chose to not accept Arthur's offer of joining the gang was beyond you. You knew each other well in Blackwater before they had to leave, he suggested you join since you'd be a great addition and trustworthy, but you declined. Later on you were picked up by a "runaway", he sold you out and now you're high tailing it to the nearest escape.

You stumbled across a particularly high end looking train that looked like it was headed west--aka opposite way from this shit. Your initial intent wasn't to rob it, yet. You just needed a quick getaway from this madness. Quick and sneaky you were getting into the back past a few guards. You found an abandoned ticket under a seat and stuffed it in your pocket, walking around until you found an empty cart that looked quite fancy.

You kept your head on a swivel and constantly looked out the window for any suspicious activities when somebody barged in. You quickly stood up and drew your revolver when you realized who you laid your eyes on.

"...Arthur?" you said. His eyes adjusted from the sun reflecting off the window when he heard his name escape from your lips, recognizing your voice almost immediately.

"What are you doin' here?" you both inquired in unison.

"Put your damn gun down I ain't here to rob you." he said sitting down on one of the two seat chairs covered in leather. You slid it back into the holster with curious eyes still on him. Just how long had it been? Why was he here?

"You normally waltz into carts that aren't yours?"

"Ain't that what you did?"

...he had a point.

"Maybe, but I had a reason."

"You sayin' I'd hop onto a nearby train for no reason?"

"I ain't seen or heard from you in almost a decade, Arthur. I don't know what I know anymore. Where's the rest of Blackwater's finest?"

Arthur just leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. There was a deadpan look in his eyes as he recalled everything that went down in the last two weeks. All the betrayals and chaos started to montage in his mind all over again; how he was this close to death, but managed to escape somehow.

"Dead, on their own, or all the above. Remember John? I helped him and his folks get out. The others...well I don't rightly know where they are. And quite frankly I don't care."

You sat in front of him as you processed his words. What's understood don't need to be said, and you knew this well.

"Is that why you're here?" you asked. It felt like a question with an obvious answer but you honestly just wanted a confirmation. It wasn't like him to just run off, at least from when you last seen him.

"In so many words, I guess. Although I didn't expect to see a woman of your caliber running away from your bullshit either. I'd like to know too, if you don't mind."

"Oh hush that up." you waved his comment off dismissively, "I was sold out."

"Well I'll be. You know I always wondered what you were doing or who you decided to hang with if not us. Who in their right mind would sell out one of Blackwater's most wanted?"

In your time together you always had a playful relationship, but you could tell in his tone there was slight bitterness or sarcasm. Truth be told he started to feel some type of way when he realized you declined him just to end up with some other gang that clearly didn't give a damn about you.

"Watch yourself." you warned, your tone half serious half playful.

"What? You didn't want to be around folk who had your best interest that's fine. I won't say I told you so."

"When the hell did you tell me so?"

"The day before we left." he answered without hesitation. "The night we spent together? Ring any bells?"

Damn. You tried to forget that night since the day he had to leave and you too shortly after. You didn't want to remember all the fun you had. You didn't want to remember his hearty laugh at your stupid jokes. Hell...you didn't even want to remember just how good he treated you. He treated you like a lady, unlike most of the men you came across. All it took was one heated kiss, and you both were hooked. But also knew it couldn't be given both your circumstances.

When he offered for you to join you wanted to jump at the opportunity. So why didn't you? Because, well, you loved the man. You thought your own feelings would hinder the morale of the group somehow and break it apart, and you wouldn't dare that be on you. Plus you couldn't really tell where he stood. He's a guy who treated most people with respect despite how he grew up.

Back then he mentioned how people like them were hard to come by and that most gangs were either just downright pieces of shit or cultish. So he in fact did tell you so, and you tried to forget that as soon as possible. Didn't want any sort of thoughts of him clouding your mind or else you'd go crazy.

The only reason you two didn't get intimate that night is because he respected you and your boundaries. He still does. He didn't want it to feel like he was grasping on to the nearest thing to fuck with and then dip. That's not the kind of man he was nor will he ever be.

"What does that night have to do with why I'm here now?" you tried so hard to seem like it didn't completely take over your thoughts, but this is Arthur Morgan for christ sake. He's damn good at reading people.

"It can mean just about anything, sweetheart, but I know it meant something to you just as much as it did to me." he said. The tone of his voice sounded a bit like he was trying to convince himself that was the case. If it wasn't, he wouldn't know what to do.

You sat back in your seat but that didn't take away the feeling of his gaze pouring into your soul. "It did." you said looking down at your hands

"Then why decline? Was it me? I know it's not my lifestyle because we lived the same way."

"I didn't want to get in the way, alright? I knew you'd be gone often and would be out for days at a time while I worried if you'd come back in one piece. I've been there and done that. Wasn't doing that again."

Arthur leaned back up in his seat and ran his hand over his face, sighing. He didn't want to come off so strong, but he felt real feelings for you and didn't know how to process it properly. The woman who's been on his mind since the day the gang left Blackwater sat in front of him and he felt like a lost puppy all over again.

"Okay." he said softly, "Was I on your mind at all?" he continued looking down, mumbling under his breath but you still heard him.

"Everyday since." you said standing up. He slowly looked up at you with those pearly blues that never failed to capture you. He was just so relieved that it wasn't just him. That it wasn't one-sided. Grabbing his hand you pulled him up to meet your eyes--like he wasn't visibly looking down at you.

"I thought about you so damn much I guess I had to distract myself by running with some undercover O'Driscolls. I figured out who they was too late and voila, lawmen breaking down my door."

Arthur shortly chuckled upon hearing you explain more of your situation. To him it was unbelievable, and he never thought he'd hear that name ever again especially after seeing Colm swing.

"This evening is full of surprises. How do I know this isn't some big scheme to take me down once and for all?" he said while wrapping his arms snug around your waist and his voice grew more rugged and deep. Oh how he missed this. What this is, who knows, and who cares?

"I don't need some big scheme to take you down." you said placing your hands on his biceps, squeezing just a little bit. He smirked at this action and pulled you closer.

"That so?"

You hummed in agreement, and it didn't take long for you two to finally lock lips together after a bit of playful murmuring here and there. And just like that, you both were taken back to that night. That heated kiss you shared was the absolute highlight of your lives, and you intended to relive that again and more.

It's like you never left but kissed like it's been forever. He ran his cold palm up your back to hold you while the other unbuttoned your pants. Even after almost ten years, he didn't miss a beat. He still got it. Are we surprised? You followed his lead and kept one arm around his neck while the other attempted to pull him free.

His hands were quick and nimble like yours, so next thing you know your pants are on the ground and you're sitting comfortably in his lap. You was now clad in a loose collar shirt and underwear and his shirt remained unbuttoned at the collar. Your mouths never stopped dancing throughout this whole process too.

Arthur just kept groaning into your mouth at every subtle grind on his thigh. This was only the second time of you two getting together like this, yet it feels way more than that. That same drunk feeling from the night made its return and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

You pulled back so you both could catch your breath, holding his face and running your thumbs over his stubble that was soon to becoming a full beard.

"I missed you...so damn much." you said in a tone just above a whisper.

"I can't imagine more than I have..." he replied while toying with the hem of your underwear. "Would you give this old outlaw the honor of... having you? All to myself?" he asked, looking deep into your eyes. You could feel him fully hard and his hands trembling a bit, but he still wants to hear it from you. One part is confirmation, but the other? He would easily gain satisfaction from knowing you want to give yourself to him.

"Well...I've saved a horse...and I plan on riding a cowboy," you whispered and smiled against his lips before leaning back in. Arthur chuckled into the kiss, wasting zero time pulling them panties to the side and slide right on in.

Your breath hitched as you eased on down his thick shaft. "That's my girl." he whispered, right next to your ear so he could physically feel you clench against him from his praises. You gripped his shoulders as your eyes closed shut, expelling light whimpers here and there as you set a place. He placed his hand on your back once again to encourage you, feeling a little smug at your struggle to keep up.

Best believe you weren't no bitch though; you swallowed thickly and kept on riding him. The ambience of the train was quickly fading as you two became lost in your own desire.

Were you expecting your orgasm to approach so quickly? Honestly, it made sense. Arthur knew all the right things to say and touched all the right places that churn your butter.

He was also nearing the end, and yet he had such a genuine smile on his face. He grunted with every time you sank back down into his lap and this meant he simply could not be happier. He's been dreaming of this moment forever, and finally. Finally, the woman of his dreams is having the time of her life because of him.

To keep yourself grounded you pulled his head up to rest your forehead on his, "Please, cum inside me," you begged. Your climax was seconds away from hitting you and you wanted to reach bliss at the same time.

You ain't have to tell him even once with how quickly he followed suit. Your hips slammed right back down into his lap as you both tried to stifle your cries of pleasure, still mindful of other passengers.

After you both calmed down in each other's arms, you cleaned yourselves up and plopped back down onto the two person couch you had just gotten intimate on. You held his bicep and laid your head on his shoulder with a content smile on your face. His the very same.

"You sure know how to get down for someone I ain't seen in a long time." he said playfully, looking down at you.

"Who said I ain't got none in a long time?" you replied a little too fast for his liking, looking up and seeing his expression comedically fall to a straight one. "I'm just messing, I wouldn't dare risk having anybody else's kids but yours." you continued casually before shutting your eyes. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the sound of his heart rate getting faster through his chest.

He chuckled, looking out the window at the scenery become painted with the pinks and yellows of the sunset passing by.

"You are something else."

[amethystfairy1]

My upload schedule will probably be slowing down the next few weeks...

As a lot of you who've been following TTSBC and TT know, whenever I start posting a multi-chaptered story, I usually upload daily until it's completed. That's always worked fine for me, and I do hope to get back to that schedule soon because it makes my brain happier than spacing my stuff out.

Buuuuut for right now, I'll probably be spacing my chapters out to either every other day, or maybe sometimes every three days or so...that or I'll just have to take more time between fics to write up and edit everything in advance.

This doesn't have to do with writers burnout or anything, I promise! I'm still super eager to work on TTSBC and TT and I have no plans on stopping anytime soon! It's just that things are about to get verrrry busy life wise...as I've mentioned before I'm currently pursuing a masters degree and I've got a thesis due at the end of this upcoming school year, so as much as I just wanna write the block men kissing all day every day, I unfortunately also have to do work. 😭

I also have an original concept I'm working on a little bit...I know, from me, the fanfic author!? GASP! But yeah. it's something I'm very passionate about, and something I do hope to share with y'all one day. I can only hope it'll get the same warm reception that TTSBC and TT have gotten, but that's still a ways away from anything worthy of posting anywhere Even still, I want to save some of my time to work on it as well, alongside the vast majority of my time that'll be going toward academics.

But still too does the fire burn for the block men!

So yeah. expect TTSBC and TT updates to thin out to every other day, or once every three days or so, at least for the next couple of weeks until I've gotten a big bulk of my academic work out of the way! And then I shall resume my tippy tapping terrors on the daily once again!

Thank you all, always and forever, so reading and supporting my stories! It truly does mean the world! 💖

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

11: Lover

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: fluff, smau

a/n: not everything will have drama!!! This part is cute, there has to be a little of calm before a storm, right? Oh, and I added more info about Violet!

Masterlist

Official Playlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

The gifts stayed in the boxes, ignored in a corner of my living room behind the couch. Something wasn't right, something about that note made me have shivers.

But I ignored it. I ignored the gifts and kept living in my routine.

The first day without Lando was calm, relaxed. Being alone helped me analyze everything that happened last week, put my feelings on point and even write about them. I needed to clear my mind and see what I needed to do to start something new with him.

I was still scared, not knowing if it would become something like my previous relationships.

What if he cheats? No, right? 

What if he thinks I'm not enough? Maybe…

What if he… No, he wouldn't. 

Lando showed me how it is to be loved by him. He showed me that he respects my boundaries and that he will never cross the line I could make if I don't feel comfortable. He always waited for an approval before touching me and he even helped me feel better with myself after that incident with my period. It was easy loving him, his actions helped my feelings flow calmly like a river, making me accept those new emotions when I was around him.

We were friends, maybe only acquaintances that barely talked. But since things started to get clear, since the truth was told, we quickly became friends and something close to lovers. The speed of those feelings shocked me, watching how his little and gentle touches made me crave for his warmth, how he messed with my brain and made me do things I was terrified to do after everything I lived.

But it made me realize that I barely know him. I don't know what he likes, what he does besides driving a fast car. I never was that close to him to know that much of him. But he does know me, and I felt so disappointed with myself for not knowing him as much as he does with me.

At night the bed felt empty, even if it never did. I never cared about sleeping alone in a king-sized bed, being in the middle of it. But that night, after sleeping with him next to me practically all night, I missed him. 

“God, what did I become…” I sighed looking at the bracelet on my wrist.

I sigh, grabbing my phone, searching his chat and smiling when I saw the pictures he sent me of the filming.

Violet: Can I call you?

I took a deep breath and sigh, grabbing the pillow and hugging it. 

Then I heard a notification and smiled when I saw the FaceTime call. I accepted it, chuckling when I saw Lando on a bed too.

“You can't sleep, right?” he chuckled, making me shake my head.

“You’re just a good sleeping company” I smiled.

“Mhm” he chuckled. “Did you discover who sent you the boxes?”

“Oh… I think my parents” I sighed, smiling weakly. “A birthday gift, I guess”

“Well, at least they sent something” he sighed. “What are you going to do on Christmas Eve?”

“Well… I think I'll watch Christmas movies on Netflix during dinner” I sighed. “Maybe I'll even cook something. Why?”

“Oh, just to know” he smiled.

“How is the filming going?” I asked. 

“Nice! Is so cool, really” he smiled. “Max was a passenger in the car. It was so funny to watch” he laughed. 

I heard him talk, and his voice calmed me. It was like he was here with me, with my head in his chest and his arm around my shoulders.

“Violet?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry” I smile softly. “I'm a little tired”

“How was your day?” he asked softly.

“Fine, I guess… I stayed at home to do some work and clean the apartment” I sighed. “The usual”

“That's nice” he smiled. “Do you want me to stay on the call until you fall asleep?”

“Would you do that?” I smiled, feeling how my heart melted. “Please…”

“Of course” he nodded. “How is your period going? Does it still hurt?”

“No, it's… it's fine” I smiled. “Just took a warm shower, now I feel better”

I heard him humming softly and then talk about something else, helping me drift slowly in a deep sleep.

The next day I had to work, so I left my apartment early after making my lunch. Before walking out of the apartment I looked at the couch, sighing. I have a weird feeling about those gifts, but somehow I didn't want to believe my own instinct.

As I entered the building of the museum, one of my coworkers welcomed me with a warm smile.

“How was the trip in the snow?” she smiled.

“Really good, actually” I smile blushing. “I had a great time there. I went to the city that looks like the one of the book I told you”

“For real?” she gasped. “That's amazing!”

“Right?” I laughed softly, grabbing my phone and showing her the pictures I took.

“Oh? Who's this guy?” she smirked, pointing to the picture. “Harry?”

I felt shivers running down my spine when I heard his name. 

“N-no, someone else” I smiled weakly.

“Oh! Spill the tea, come on!” she chuckled, making me sigh and shake my head.

“Just a friend” I said. 

Because that's what he is, right? At the moment, we are only friends.

“He's a cute one” she laughed.

I smile and nod, walking away and going to my desk. I know I have work to do, but my mind started to work on something else.

Who sent me the packages? My parents knew I was on a trip, but not in the snow. And Lando said he wasn't… The shivers all over my body made me close my eyes and shake my head, trying to brush away that thought.

Eloise? Harry? But… if it was them, why signing as my parents? Why? If it was an apology they could have signed as themselves. 

I tried to focus on my work, on reading those books and translating some papers and writing in my notebook everything I needed to check out. But my mind kept working on something else.

“Violet, someone sent you these flowers!”

I flinched and looked up, frowning. But when I saw orange flowers on it, I relaxed a bit. Maybe Lando sent them.

“You are a lucky girl, hm?” my coworker laughed softly.

“Maybe” I smile softly.

I looked at the flowers and smiled, looking at the orange ones and smelling them. Then I saw the card and smiled while reading it.

‘I came to London today, do you want to hang out after work?’ 

-LN

I sighed, this time relieved, because I recognized his handwriting, the same handwriting of the cards he used to put inside every book he gifted me.

“Was it your “just a friend”?” she smirked, doing the quote marks with her fingers. 

“Yeah, yeah” I laugh softly, grabbing my phone and texting him.

Violet: I have lunch break around one

Lando🧡: then I'll be there a little earlier. I saw that there is a nice restaurant next to the museum

Violet: but I already brought my own food!

Lando🧡: you can save it for dinner ;) I just want to see you, can't wait four days

I smiled blushing, looking at the screen. He told me he was going to be busy and I assumed he couldn't come around, working hard with the filming. But the fact that he's using his free time to be with me just made me happy.

I looked at the clock of my wrist and I wished time passed faster. But knowing that Lando wanted to have lunch with me, made me focus more and finish half of my work at lunchtime.

I closed my laptop and grabbed my coat and scarf, hung my bag on my shoulder and looked at my coworker.

“I’ll come after lunch” I said, smiling. 

“I thought you brought your lunch? I saw your lunch box in the fridge” she frowned, making me smile and shake my head.

“I'm going with my friend” I smile, biting my lip.

I got inside the elevator and sigh, grabbing my little makeup pouch and fixing it, taking a deep breath when the door opened. The office where I work is at the other side of the museum, so I just had to walk over the exposition.

“Violet!” I heard him call me.

I gasped surprised when I saw him there, in the middle of the exposition of the ancient Rome and Greek exposition. I chuckle and walk towards him, hugging his neck when he opens his arms for me.

“Hey” he smiled, kissing my cheek.

“Hey” I chuckled looking at him. “Why did you come in? You had to buy a ticket, you could just have waited outside for me”

“Just wanted to surprise you” he smiled, making my heart melt.

“You already sent me those flowers, silly” I smiled. “But thank you, I loved them”

“I'm glad” he smiled. “Well… so you are working in this exposition? It's amazing!”

“Yeah, well… translating old texts and inscriptions” I said. “You want to have a look around?”

“Of course” he smiled.

I smiled when I felt his hand holding mine, hearing with attention everything I explained to him. I read him the original manuscripts as well as explained some of the items around the exposition and the ones of the other rooms.

“You are unique, Violet” he smiled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and kissing my temple.

I smile looking at him and wrapping my arm around his waist, walking around with him. He talked about how the filming is going, what they are going to film in the afternoon. And I let him talk while we stood in front of sculptures.

“Well, I'm hungry” I chuckled softly. 

“Oh yeah” he nodded, laughing and kissing my head. “Let's go”

We walked out of the museum and went to that restaurant he mentioned before, taking a table for two and ignoring the curious gaze from everyone inside, ignoring the fact that we were in public. Right now, everything that matters is right in front of me.

f1_gossip

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f1gossip the last few days the rumors about Violet and Lando started to come back again. We'll remember you all some things about her to refresh our memory:

-Violet Grace Sinclair

-24 years old

-She studies History of Art in the London College and she already has the Ancient Languages degree

-Works in the British Museum as a translator in the exposition “Ancient Rome and Greece”

The first speculation about Lando and Violet started four years ago, the first time we saw her with his friends in the paddock, but those rumors died when we saw posts of Violet's boyfriend in the race with them.

But the last few days they have been spending time together on the snow trip with their friends and then alone back at home. 

What do you think?

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user2 Don't give us hopes! Some of us still ship them!

user6 Violet only wants fame, nothing more

user3 if she wanted fame she would be posting hints about Lando and her since they knew each other but she never did that!  user5 user3 is right! She was never in the garage during his races! Always watching the hospitality with his friends

user8 well, I think they would be cute together, actually! 

user9 wait a damn minute… isn't she the girl he's been simping for a long time? He always talks about someone on the streams but always using a fake name…

user7 Yes!! He always talked about someone called Grace… 👀

When we finished our lunch he walked with me back to the museum, not taking his hand away from mine.

“Lando… you know we are in the street, right?” I smile weakly. “I mean… people are watching”

“So? I don't care” he smiled. “I-I mean, only if you do! If you don't want to be seen with me it's okay. I totally get it”

“No, idiot” I laughed, nudging his side. “It's just… Well, you know that there are gossip pages, right?”

“Yeah”

“And that they shipped us over the years, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Landolet” he nodded proudly. “I won't lie saying that I never read about that. Kinda funny, tho… Their theories are really funny”

“So you knew that there were rumors about us around the Internet and never said anything to me?” I frowned, surprised. “Lando!”

“What? What did you want me to say?” he sighed, wrapping his arms around me. “Hey Violet, did you know that some of my fans think that we are dating and they are looking into your profile to check that you aren't a golddigger?”

“For example” I laugh softly. “But… you know I'm not a golddigger, right? I mean… I have a nice job, enough money…”

“Of course, silly” he chuckled, kissing the tip of my nose.

“And talking about job… I should go back” I sighed. 

“Right” he sighed, holding me tighter. “At what time do you finish?”

“I think at six. I have some things to update and then I'll help with other things” I nodded, smiling.

“Then I'll come to pick you up” he smiled, kissing the corner of my mouth, making me smile. “I can't sleep without you”

“God, you are so cheesy!” I laughed.

“And I know you love cheese” he smiled.

I laughed softly and hugged him tighter. He makes me feel like a teen again, giggling and smiling all the time. He makes me happy, and being away from him makes my heart ache. Is this how it feels being in love? I never felt this… neither with my ex's or with Harry.

“Let's have dinner in my apartment, hm?” I smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “We can order whatever you want”

“That sounds amazing” he smiled, brushing his lips on mine before kissing me. “I don't want to let you go”

“I have work to do” I whisper against his lips. “And you too”

“They can film things without me” he said, pulling away a little, brushing my hair out of my face. “Today I'm not needed there”

I look at him and bite my lip, cupping his jaw and looking at his lips. I don't care if we are in the street, in front of the door of my work. I don't care if people walk near and see us kissing. I assumed things like this would happen if I want to date him.

“You want to come see what I'm doing at work?” I smiled looking into his eyes. “But maybe you'll distract me and I will take longer…”

“I'll be as quiet as one of those sculptures” he said immediately, making me laugh and peck his lips. “Just give me somewhere to seat and some snacks and I'll be like one of those kids you see with the tablet”

“Alright, alright” I laughed softly, grabbing my pass from my bag and walking towards the staff door.

He walked with me, holding my hand and following me through the corridors of the building. We wasted a little time watching other expositions on our way to the studio, but it was worth it. Watching Lando getting interested in this place and listening to me made my smile grow wider.

“Hey Maya” I smiled at my coworker when I opened the door of the studio.

“Oh!” she smiled. “The guy!”

“The guy?” Lando laughed.

“The guy” I chuckled, nodding. “Maya, this is Lando”

“The just friend, hm?” She smirked, looking at our hands and how he followed me to my work desk.

“At the moment” Lando smirked, making me roll my eyes and laugh.

I grabbed one of the empty chairs and placed it next to mine, making him sit next to me. We took our coats off and placed them on the hanger and then we sat on the chairs.

“Here, put them” I said, giving him some fabric gloves. “I'm going to show you something, okay?”

“Okay” he nodded.

I smiled and after putting my gloves on my hands, I opened the box where the manuscript is being kept. I heard Lando take a deep breath and stop his breathing, like he was scared of contaminating the ancient paper with his breathing. I chuckled softly and unrolled it, putting the paperweight on every edge of it to keep it on the table.

“This is an old manuscript from the ancient Greece” I said looking at him.

“What does it say?” he asked, tracing his gloved fingers over the letters. 

“It's a text from Sophocles” I said. “From one of his plays. I'm just translating them and checking that what we have in the archives is right”

“Wow… God, Violet this is amazing” he said breathlessly. “Just… How many languages can you read?”

“Well… Latin and ancient Greek. And I can understand some hieroglyphics” I smiled looking at him. 

“Are you saying that you could be one of those people that can talk on a documentary about Egypt, walking around the pyramids and translate the first hieroglyphics they find?” he gasped, making me laugh. 

“I mean… first I need the title of historian, but yeah” I nodded. 

“I'm going to make some calls, then” he joked, making me chuckle.

“Idiot” I laughed softly, hitting his shoulder. “Do you want to be a worker of the museum for a day?”

“Oh yeah! What do I have to do?”

We spent the rest of the day there, sitting next to each other on my desk while I translated the texts and he wrote them on my laptop. There were some minutes of rest to cuddle a little and even to take some snacks.

But never in my life have I imagined that I could have Lando Norris, the McLaren Formula 1 driver, sitting next to me and helping me work.

“Well, we're done for today” I smile looking at him. 

“Thank God” he smiled, stretching and closing my laptop.

“Okay lovebirds, you two did a good job” Maya smiled looking at us. “I received the archives. You can go home”

“Got it” I smiled, standing up and stretching.

Lando got up and we collected our coats and my bags and he immediately grabbed my backpack while giving me my shoulder bag.

“You worked hard all day, I'm sure your back hurts” he said, kissing my temple. “And this backpack is heavy, so let me take it”

I chuckled softly and nodded, walking out of the studio with him and going hand in hand through the corridors of the museum, going to expositions we hadn't seen together yet.

“I just love the fact that I had my personal guide here” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around me again. “And the way you explain things make it easier to understand this art”

“Well, maybe I can be your personal guide everywhere we go” I chuckled. “Maybe next summer we can go somewhere like Italy or Greece, hm?”

“Oh, definitely” he nodded, kissing my head.

We walked around the museum, him taking pictures of me with his camera while I was looking at the paintings or sculptures. We acted like a couple, and somehow I liked that, I liked how relaxed and calm we are next to each other, how good it feels when he wraps his arm around me or I wrap my hands around his arm. 

Somehow I knew my phone was going to be full with notifications. Deep inside me I knew that people around us wouldn't be quiet and they would post things about us. But watching how calm he was, ignoring the fact that people took pictures of us, made me stay calm too. I accepted this, I knew that this was going to happen sooner or later.

And having him in my apartment, helping me to set the table after the delivered food came, just made me realize how much I want this. How much I want him.

“Why are you so smiley?” he chuckled curiously, looking at me.

“Oh nothing…” I smiled. “I'm just… happy. I'm happy to have you here with me, to sleep with you again. I'm just happy that you wanted to spend your free time with me, or even skip going back to the filming just to be with me while I was working”

“That's because you are worth it, Violet” he smiled, holding my hand. “You are worth every second, every minute our hour with. And I promise this will be forever. I won't be tired of spending time with you, I'll run back to you every time I can, showing you how much I love you and how much you mean to me”

“That's… No one said something like that to me, Lando” I smiled softly, touched by his words. 

“Well, get used to it” he smirked. “Because I won't stop, never in my life. You are stuck with me”

And I gladly accepted it. I gladly accepted to be stuck with him.

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[howlingday]

jaune is spiderman au) jaune confronts the red huntress while having to be on a call with his grandpa who keeps telling him that since he's a superhero he should be pulling more bitches, like that red huntress lady! she's hot as hell and totally into him. or that iron fist girl with the gauntlets! she's stacked as hell! or even that reaper girl, she's cute enough! maybe the mercenary chick weiss? or that asguardian girl nora! he could totally pull a goddess of thunder! he just needs to have confidence and ask them out. huntsman is regretting answering the phone on speaker mode

Chapter 3 - Greater Responsibility

Today was not Jaune's day, for more than one reason. To start off, he found out he was failing some of his classes. Adding to that, he was caught up in some schoolyard teasing and was forced into a curfew, wherein he was to stay on schoolgrounds for the next two weeks. Thankfully, Professor Ozpin was kind enough to allow Jaune to attend the school fieldtrip to the Vale Police Department, which was perfect because although Jaune Arc was grounded, the same could not be said for

THE HUNTSMAN SPIDER!

Sneaking off from the group to go to the bathroom, Jaune was able to sneak his way around to find the evidence room. Now he just needed to figure out how to-

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?!"

"Ack!" Jaune whirled around to find a woman in a white uniform, glaring down the hall at him. "S-Sorry! I was just looking for the bathroom!"

"Bull!" She spat. "This isn't some playground, kid! This is a police station, and unauthorized access is punishable pretty severely!"

"Um, I-"

"Just let him go, Bree." A man behind her said with a shrug. "Not like he was hurting anyone. Here, kid, I'll tell ya where to go."

The woman sneered, hissing under her breath. "You got lucky, kid."

'Lucky is right.' Jaune watched the woman stomp away. He looked to the man who had a more relaxed visage. 'These uniforms don't look like police.'

"Um, excuse me, but are you not police officers?"

"That's right." The man nodded. "We're specialists from Atlas. We're here on a special project with the police. You didn't hear it from me, but there's a lot of nasty business going on in town, and Atlas is itching to get in there and help out our friendly neighbors in Vale." Suddenly, the man's eyes took on a darker tone to match his words. "So don't go starting any trouble tonight."

Jaune gulped. "Er, yes, sir."

"Great! See ya round, kid!" Having completed escorting Jaune back to the restrooms, the man walked away with the same grin he wore when he met Jaune. Something about him made Jaune's spider-sense flare up. Though not as much as-

"MISTER ARC!" Professor Goodwitch shouted. "Need I remind you that you are on CURFEW for your misconduct?" A couple of student giggled at how Jaune shrunk into himself. So far, the only win Jaune had was the location of the evidence room. It wasn't much, but it was at least something to start with, right?

--------------------------------------------------

"You're going out tonight, too?"

"Yeah." Pyrrha nodded, pulling out her new outfit. Black wasn't able to convince her to stop, so the two agreed to help The Red Huntress become a proper vigilante. Tonight, Pyrrha would begin another night of patrolling with Black and learn the ropes. Whether or not ropes were actually included, Pyrrha wasn't sure. "Just for a few hours."

"Are you sure you can trust this guy?" Nora asked, watching Pyrrha put her arm into the sleeve. "For all we know, he could be a pervert trying to kidnap you."

"I don't think so." Pyrrha shook her head. "Something about the way they spoke about the White Fang made me think that they meant what they said."

"Well, if you need me, I'm gonna be hanging out with Ren tonight." Nora shook her scroll. "Just give me a call and I will drop everything to come help you!"

Pyrrha giggled. "I appreciate the offer, Nora, but I don't think I'll be needing it."

"Buuut~?"

"But if I do need help, you will be the first one I call."

"Aw, thank you~!"

--------------------------------------------------

"Is Jaune going to call again tonight?"

"Mhm."

"You should really tell him the truth, you know."

"Mm."

"Will you at least tell him his grandma loves him?"

"...'course, honey."

--------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Grandpa!" Jaune said into his earpiece.

"Evenin', Jaune," his grandfather replied, "you just missed your grandma. She love you, y'know."

"I know, Grandpa, and I love her, too."

"So, what mischief are you up to tonight?"

"I'm not up to any mischief, Grandpa." Jaune answered. It wasn't so much mischief tonight as it was a misdemeanor. Or maybe it was a felony. He hoped it was the former.

"Oh, really? So there's no plan to break into police headquarters at all?" Jaune was quiet all of a sudden. "I'm retired, Jaune, but I still have friends on the force. They said there was a kid who went wandering away from his class. I take it that was you?"

"Um... I please the fifth?"

"Plead, Jaune, and that's only in court. Y'ain't been arrested yet." The two Arcs shared a laugh. "Speakin' of pleasin', any chance of you bringing a girl over for the holidays?"

"I'm not really looking for a date, Grandpa."

"And that's why you're up to mischief in the middle of the night. Wouldn't happen if you had a girl to keep you company."

"That's not true."

"Oh, yeah? Where's your roommate?"

"He's back in the dorm, hanging out with his-" Jaune stopped talking, partially because he was unsure of the two's relationship status, and also because he knew he was walking into a trap. He didn't need spider-sense to see that. "Back in the dorm."

"Uh-huh. Y'know, I hear there's a vigilante group out there. Maybe you could join up with them?"

"Really? This is the first I'm hearing about it."

--------------------------------------------------

"I'm in." Black softly said as Pyrrha dropped in behind them. "...Roger." They turned to their red-headed pupil. "Your form could use some work."

"Any pointers?" Pyrrha asked.

Black placed a finger to their covered mouth. Pyrrha's eyes widened and pursed her own mouth shut. Down below, a few police officers milled about, working the late shift on little more than coffee. Pyrrha followed behind Black, noting how they walked with big strides starting on the heel and rolling to their toes. Pyrrha noted how her costume, no longer her normal fit of just red goggles and a cape and now tightly hugging fit of a red body suit covered by light yet sturdy polymer that flexed as she moved, all courtesy of Black's partner, Fencer.

Fencer, for their part, seemed much more animated than Black, making gestures and vocally exasperating. They wore a white fencing outfit that made her digitally camouflaged while moving, completed by a shaded helmet and voice modifier. She was polite to Pyrrha, but would often chide the other members, notably the other two on communications with Black. She'd yet to meet them, but Pyrrha assumed she had yet to earn her keep on the team. Less chance of exposing everyone that way.

Black came to a stop at a corner, holding up her hand with the palm facing out. A low growl came from them, putting Pyrrha at unease. She leaned a bit closer out and saw someone moving around in the evidence room. Black gave Pyrrha a glance then shifted her hand into a pointing two fingers and waved the pointed digits at door. Pyrrha nodded and approached.

Getting close to the door, she tenderly touched the door handle.

--------------------------------------------------

'Spider-sense going off?' Jaune thought, his body tensing. 'But I don't see anyone.'

Jaune knew better than to doubt his ability and ducked down.

He'd found what he needed already. Since the murder was recent, Snipe Hunt's evidence was readily available. The bullets found at the scene of the crime came from a 500 magnum, more hand-cannon than pistol, but still easy to carry concealed. His grandpa had one, and he even let Jaune fire a couple rounds. Guns were never his thing anyways. It couldn't have been him, but who else could have fired a gun like this? This was a question to ask later when he wasn't under attack.

"No point in hiding." A familiar voice came. "We already got your little friend."

'Little friend?' Jaune thought. Nobody was with Jaune when he came in. That meant...

"I'm gonna count to three, and I want you to walk out, nice and slow. One. Two."

Jaune opened the door, finding the man from before holding a tied-up woman under his boot. She was wearing a red cape, red bodysuit, and red goggles. The only thing that wasn't red was the light brown armor on her chest. Keeping his hands up, he pushed the door and walked out.

"Oh, so you're that vigilante that's been skulking around lately?" The man said with a bemused grin. "Was wondering when I'd get to see ya." He pressed down on the woman, making her grunt. The wire wrapped around her pulled taut, making her whine.

"Stop!" Jaune stepped forward, holding his hand out.

"Stop?"

"Look-" Before Jaune could speak any further, he felt something tug against his leg.

"Look? Stop and look? Sounds like something you should have done a long time ago."

Spider-sense throbbed like crazy. It felt like there was danger everywhere now. He noticed a gleam and realized there was wire everywhere, thin strands all closing in on him. Keeping his arms up, he was ironically nabbed in a web like spider silk. However, the way in which was caught only surrounded his upper body, thanks to him ducking just in time with one leg bent and the other extended behind him. It started to burn as muscle began to stretch like they hadn't been before.

"Hm." The man hummed. "Wasn't expecting you to be that quick." Jaune pushed himself to both feet, wires sliding up and digging into his gut. "Good thing I've got a friend who's quicker."

Jaune charged, arms held up to cover his face, only to be knocked down by something moving as fast as lightning. He rolled on the ground and stood up, only to be knocked down again. Roll, stand, knock down. He rolled a third time, stood a third time, and turned on his heel catching the lightning bolt off-guard. Turning his body in mid-air, he crashed into the woman in the white uniform from before.

"Get off me!" She shouted, trying to push Jaune off. In the struggle, the wires slid up over Jaune's arms but caught themselves on each other, making the strands tighter and harder to move than before. Jaune suddenly felt his spider-sense go off again, this time focusing on behind. He tried to move, but the woman underneath him kept him held in place.

SHIKT-KREEEEEE!

Something sharp tore through Jaune's bindings, almost digging into his suit. He heard an awful screech against the back-plate of his armor. However, this was Jaune's chance as shoved both arms out, smashing his fists into the woman's chest, knocking her hard into the ground and Jaune to his feet.

"Finally, some breathing room." Jaune sighed. "Next time, try pizzas WITHOUT anchovies."

The woman, furious, spun to her feet and bolted for Jaune. However, as she charged head-to-head, he was able to dodge to the side. There was a loud crash as the woman tripped over something and slammed into the wall. He looked behind him and winced.

"Sorry about that." He offered to the unconscious woman. He turned his attention to the man in white. "So, was that enough for you?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Huh?" Then the man let go of the wire and backed away from the vigilante woman. The wires came loose enough for her to pull off. "That's it? You're just... letting us go?"

"Yeah. I've seen enough." He reached to his collar and spoke into it. "This is Specialist Ebi. Exercise complete. Recovering Specialist Bree for treatment." There was a beep and a response from the other side of the radio. "Looks like it's your lucky day, kid." The man known as Ebi said as he walked over to the woman known as Bree. "But that lucks gonna run out in about three days."

"Three days?" The red woman said. "What happens in three days?"

"Nothing too special, but, uh, if I were you, I'd hang up those costumes and let the big kids have their fun."

"Big kids?" Jaune asked. The woman then gasped.

"Atlas..."

"Lucky guess." He picked up Bree. "Hopefully your luck keeps rolling. Because eventually," he turned the corner, but not before saying, "your luck's gonna run out."

Jaune stood there, his body tense. There was no spider-sense to warn him of danger. No, this fear was something far away, yet close enough to bypass his senses. Shivering out his fear, he reached down and helped up the woman.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." She said. "He just... caught me by surprise."

"Careful with the puns." Jaune jokingly warned. "I know... a guy who likes puns enough to fight for them."

"I'm sure you do." She brushed herself off. "You seem... familiar. Have we met before?"

"Uh, nope, I can't say I've ever met a woman in a red skinsuit." Then a thought came to his head. "Say, uh, do you want to team up? This Atlas thing in three days might be some big trouble. Y'know, strength in numbers and all that?"

"Well-"

"Red." Jaune turned to see his 'friend' from the bank.

"Oh. So you're with them?"

"Do you... know each other?" The woman asked.

"Now." The figure growled.

"I'll... let you go." Jaune stepped away. Walking down the hall to the room with the window he entered. Along the way, he passed the mysterious figure in black. "Go easy on her. It's her first day, right?" Jaune got a glare in response, making him walk faster.

--------------------------------------------------

"And what happened next?" Nora asked, interrupting herself to scrub her teeth.

"Then Black was quiet for 20 minutes." Pyrrha said, from the doorway. "You ever have that friend who's mad at you, but doesn't say anything to let you know they're mad?"

Nora spat into the sink. "Nope~! Renny and me are so close, we can practically read each other's minds~!"

"I can almost believe that." Pyrrha said with a giggle. Her mind then began to wander. The vigilante who saved her. He was sturdy, but there was also a kindness to him. Something of a gentle giant. A smile crept to her face as she imagined teaming up with him.

"Ooh~! Thinking about Jaune again~?"

"Huh?" Pyrrha blinked. "Er, y-yes. Yes, I think I was."

[baldval]

ART DECO PART 3!₊˚⊹♡

characters: valentino x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: cursing, allusions to smut, mentions of drug use, sligthly ooc val.

a/n: decided to give you guys a whole lot of fluff as an apology for last chapter, hope you like this!!!!

series masterlist!

"-and I mean, I know it's a fuckin' tough challenge to make her look good in blue, but I think we can do it. I don't know what's Vox obsession with that colour, like- our whoole campaign doesn NOT have to be all fucking blue. I don't even know why we need a campaign. We've got enough people on our side, and I got a call from Zeezi this morning - I'm gonna see if I can convince her. So, we definitely need you in that fuckin' meeting."

Silence.

"Are you even fucking listening to me? Hello?"

"... What?"

"I said, we need you at the meeting this afternoon. Vox made me promise I'd show up with you."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Velvette looks you up and down carefully, brows quirked in curiosity.

"The fuck is going on with you? You've been super weird these last couple of weeks."

That confirms your suspicions that Vox hasn't told anyone about that day at Valentino's apartment. You were wondering if he had.

"I'm just... tired. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay?"

Velvette doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway.

"Come on," she says, jumping from his chair. "We better get to that meeting early, Vox wants to talk strategy."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You're sitting silently, curled up in an expensive leather chair. Vox and Velvette are talking business, the complex jargon going straight over your head. You're in a world of your own, completely detached from your current reality, when you hear it.

Velvette says it off hand, not thinking anything of it. You watch as Vox flinches ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. Your throat tightens, your heart kicks up in your chest. Then, she says it again.

His name.

Valentino.

"I know if you push him the right way, Valentino could do anything you want him to do, you just need to make it look like it's his idea."

Valentino.

Valentino, Valentino, Valentino.

The word plays on repeat in your mind, like a broken record. Vox's eyes flick to you, as if to gauge your reaction, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. You haven't spoken since your argument, which makes most work things hard, considering he is your boss. You worried Velvette was starting to suspect something, seeing as how she always had to deliver messages from Vox to you.

"Yeah, yeah, I know we can use him, I just think, maybe, he's a bit... how can i say this? an impulsive bastard?" He glances at you before he says. "I know he's been doing some things I know he's regretting."

Velvette is oblivious to Vox's reluctance to speak on the subject, clearly.

"Well it's Valentino, when is he not impulsive? can you fuckin' talk to him or something? You know, I think you're like the only person he'll actually listen to."

Vox's eyes are darting between you and Velvette frantically.

"Yeah, sure. I'll talk to him."

You scoff under your breath, but he hears it.

"You got something to fuckin' say, Princess? Huh?"

Princess. You haven't heard that one in a while. It was a nickname given to you by the rest of your coworkers, seeing as you were pretty much Vox's favourite employee. At least you used to be. He wants to get under your skin, throwing the term in your face.

"Nothing you haven't said already," you say, biting your tongue, Vox knows you're lying.

He's about to make another sarcastic remark when Vox's assistant enters the room, cutting the moment short. You're not sure if you're grateful or spiteful.

One by one, your coworkers file in, taking their seats at the table. You're holding your breath, sitting at the edge of your chair, waiting for the inevitable. You can predict it now, the way you're going to feel when he walks in - chest tight, lungs knotted, fists clenched.

Valentino walks in, and the opposite happens.

You exhale your held breath, and relax slightly. The tension leaves your shoulders for a moment, your lip gets released from in between your teeth. It's like seeing him has cured you, even temporarily. As if he's your own brand of medicine, your personalised prescription.

His eyes catch yours, and you have a silent conversation. So much is said in such a short time.

Hi. Hi. Are you okay? No, are you? No. Not at all.

The room is oblivious to this emotional exchange - except for your boss. Vox watches Val's every move like a hawk. He's trying to figure out if the two of you are still together, still sneaking around behind his back. Val hadn't spoken to him since he stormed out of his apartment, meaning he has no idea about the events that occurred after his departure.

The meeting goes off as usual, full of tension and sniped remarks. You don't listen to a word anyone says, too focused on keeping your attention away from Valentino across the table. You're determined not to look at him. You know that if you do, he'll see right through you. He'll know how you really feel. And that is something you're not at all prepared for.

"Okay, well, if no one else has anything they'd like to cover, I think we're done here. Meeting adjourned."

Everyone rises from their places, shaking hands and having quick discussions before leaving through the tall glass doors. You stay put, in no rush to exit. Vox approaches Valentino, and you watch the exchange with a clenched jaw.

"Hey, uh... yeah, we need to talk. I think we should talk."

Val takes a long, hard look at Vox, before chuckling humourlessly.

"Hmm... Not sure if I've got something to day to you though."

Your boss stays stuck in his place, staring at the floor beneath him. As Val leaves, he can't resist running his fingers across your shoulders gently. You look back at him, but he's already gone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Home doesn't feel like home anymore.

Everywhere you look, you're reminded of Valentino.

You're in the kitchen, and all you can think about is the time the two of you slow danced in the middle of the night, slipping and sliding on the tiled floor. There's a half finished bottle of wine on the counter, abandoned in favour of gliding around the room in your socks. Val clicks on some low, jazzy music, and pulls you into his arms. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the bathroom, and you can't stop thinking about when the two of you took a bubble bath together, lavender scented steam filling the air. Your back is pressed to Val's chest, sitting in between his legs as he massages the shampoo into your hair. He's humming softly, a song his Mother used to sing when he was a child. There's not an ounce of tension in either of your bodies. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the living room, and you can't avoid the memories of curling up with Val on the couch. He always lets you pick the movie - sarcastically rolling his eyes at your choices, but never protesting. You sit there for hours, bodies tangled together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the bedroom, and you can't stop picturing the way that Val would take you apart and put you back together again. Before him, all of the sex you had was quick, transactional, impersonal. But it was different with Val. He genuinely cared about your pleasure - learning your body inch by inch, memorising it like a sculptor. You allowed yourself, for the first time ever, to let go. You put your soul in his hands with full faith. Lying there, limbs intertwined beneath the soft sheets, there was no doubt in your mind. You belonged somewhere.

And now that safe place is gone.

Home doesn't feel like home anymore, and it's all because of him. You could move at the drop of a hat, find a new apartment tomorrow if you wanted. But you can't. You can't leave all of these memories behind. As painful as they are, they're all you have.

You turn on the TV, and flick through the channels, you stop at a commercial that seemed to be promoting a free hotel that worked as a rehab for sinner. What a stupid idea. Yet you sat and watched the whole thing, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. When it ends, you turn it off, and sit in silence.

You sit there for hours, in the quiet, just thinking. About everything. You found the whole thing stupid, of course, but there was something that stuck with you.

Sinners wanting to change.

It seemed as if the minute anyone got into hell they had 2 options: kill or be killed. Hell felt more like an extension of life rather than a punishment itself, maybe that was the punishment.

All of a sudden, you're sick of waiting. Sick of being told how to do everything. Sick of trying to conform to these ideals that people are placing on you. Fuck them. You are already in hell, you have to keep living for you.

You're pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys before you can even process it. You call the number for a car, but no one answers. Fuck it, you'll run if you have to. If it means you get to hold the man you love in your arms again.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

The knocking on the door is so loud, Valentino's half convinced he's about to be murdered. He swings open the heavy oak to be met with the sight of you, looking like you just ran a marathon.

You stand still for a moment, staring at each other, as if you can't believe what you're seeing. You're here, in each others vicinity again. It'd be so easy to reach out and touch him.

So, you do.

You barrel into him, jumping into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. He catches you easily, holding onto you as tight as he possibly can. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself even closer, as if to merge both of your bodies into one being.

You breathe him in, and it's the first time you've taken a full breath in weeks. He smells the same as he always did, floral and woody and expensive and yours. He still smells like he's yours.

You don't realise you're crying until you pull away from him slightly, and see the wet spot on his t shirt. He puts you down and closes the door, locking it behind you. He grabs your hand and leads you into the kitchen, parting from you to pour two glasses of wine.

You jump up onto the counter and part your legs, Val coming to stand between them instinctively. He places a hand on each of your thighs, warmth seeping through his palms. You're face to face, unsure where to start.

"Darling," he breathes. "What are you doing here?"

He sounds unsure, almost scared. If only you knew how frantically his heart is beating in his chest.

"I'm already dead," you reply quickly. "I'm literally in Hell. It can't really get that much worse. And if it does, I'd rather have that if it means I got to choose that path."

Valentino looks at you carefully, brow quirked in confusion.

"Honey, are you on drugs? Because they're really not good for you, you know."

"Says the man who did coke off my ass last month," you tease defiantly.

He fights back a smile, but it curls at the corner of his mouth. You grin at him, hands moving towards his neck.

"I'm not on drugs," you reassure. "I was just watching tv, and it kinda put everything into perspective. We should get to choose what we do in our deaths. We should get to try to change our path. Why am I so stuck to an eternity trying to appease stupid concepts of success?"

He smiles at you softly, nodding as you continue.

"I just - this is hell. We get to do whatever the fuck we want, we're fucking dead. I make a choice for myself, and all of a sudden everything I've worked for is gone? How is that fair?"

"It isn't," he agrees, squeezing your thighs in reassurance. "Vox's a hypocrite. Do you know how many stupid decisions I've watched him make over the years? He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn't."

You lean forward and press your forehead to Val's, exhaling the tension from your shoulders.

"I'm really sorry," you whisper. "For everything. I treated you horribly, and none of it was your fault."

"It wasn't your fault, either. You know that, right?"

"I don't know. It's so hard to get a view on things when they're happening. But when I took a step back, it gave me a clearer look. And it made me realise something."

"And what's that?" he murmurs.

"I realised that I cannot live a day without you, Valentino. I don't want to."

"Thank God," he breathes in a laugh. "I've been going fucking crazy here without you."

You beam a grin at him, so bright it's a wonder that the lights don't shatter.

"I love you, and I won't apologise for it," you confess. "Whatever the consequences are, I'll accept them. Nothing can touch me when I'm loved by you. You're like my own personal armour."

Val leans forward and captures your lips with his, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You get completely lost in each other, revelling in the feeling of being back together. You feel like you can finally breathe again. The other half of your heart has returned.

[stxrvel]

gym time

summary: you didn't expect to meet someone like Bucky Barnes when you decided to enter the gym, especially since his looks and words were anything but friendly.

pairing: au!bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +1k

warning: uhm, descriptions of bucky working out? some bad words. also i suck at summaries but what i was trying to say is that bucky is very suggestive here, and there will be suggestive conversations iykwim. this chapter doesn't contain too much of that but still minors do not interact!!!!

note: hi guys! um, i dont know what to say. being honest idk why i wrote this when i dont know if i'll ever be able to continue it, i think it was for the joy or fun in it and maybe trying to test new things? i kind of wrote the draft for a second part but i dont think i want this one to be a series, i wanted to see it like a drabble but i got carried away and now there are too many words. but what i do know now is that i will be pleased to write drabbles in a scenario like this, like in this universe or au. if you guys liked this (which i hope so) would you mind sending me what would you like to see next? only time will tell how good i'm doing but i hope i can at least entertain you a little. anyway, looking forward to your opinions and i really hope you like this one! since it's my first time writing in this kind of genre :'(

You were at the gym. It had been barely a week since you had started with the goal of creating a routine in your life, because work was consuming you from the inside out. Coming home no longer felt like it used to, when you still had the fever of being independent and being able to get yourself everything you wanted. Adult life really was a mud puddle compared to what we always thought as kids.

So… yeah, you decided to join the gym closest to your apartment to try to change your bad procrastination habits a bit. Maybe now that you were paying for it with your own money you'd feel more like going, just for the sake of not making the money go to waste. But, hey, it was something.

During that week everything had been relatively fine. You hadn't had any problems with anyone, no awkward comments and you had gotten some workout partners to take turns lifting weights or running on the treadmills with at the same time.

It was honestly becoming your favorite place to be after work.

And, well, of course, there was him.

The man you shared end-to-end glances with at the gym. He never came close, always kept his space, unless he had to use some machine near where you were.

He looked like a decent man… and definitely sexy. But you didn't dare get close even though it seemed to be the only thing the two of you wanted to do. The furtive glances weren't even accidental anymore, you both sought each other out through the masses of air as if it was second nature to you. And that upset you too much because it hadn't been too many days, how could you feel so passionate and heated just sharing glances with a stranger? Within what you didn't know there might be something you didn't like, even.

Anyway, you had to avert your gaze each time before it became too much, but it always seemed like it wasn't enough for the people around you not to notice.

“Why don't you just go talk to him?” Veronica spoke in front of you, waiting for Erika to leave the press to start her series.

You were on the treadmill finishing your routine that day and that man was on the other side of the gym, lifting weights like they were nothing. You had watched him for so long without embarrassment that you had almost memorized every line of his massive arms. And your partners that day had definitely noticed.

“I don't think it's appropriate,” was all you could think of.

Erika snorted, lowering her legs as she put down the weights. “She's afraid the sexual tension surrounding them will suffocate her.”

“Erika!” you scowled at her. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“I'm of the same opinion as Veronica, you should just go talk to him. If it turns out his personality isn't as sexy as his body, you're not going to lose anything and you're going to gain a lot.”

Veronica, who had already settled into the press after Erika cleaned the chair, nodded animatedly at her partner's words.

You turned your head to look at him again, just as his strong hands released the weight that bounced to the floor. You saw him shake his arms slightly and move his shoulders in circles, releasing the tension a little at a time. Even in the distance you could make out as if he were right beside you the line of his veins running around his arms and the-

“Look at her, she's drooling already.”

You clicked your tongue and Erika only shared a chuckle with Veronica. You decided to focus solely on getting the treadmill over with quickly so you could get through that day.

-

You came out of the shower with an incredible freshness dancing in your body. In the bathrooms the atmosphere was always a little cooler than in the center of the gym, so the time after the bath was one of your favorites. Veronica and Erika had already left, they had said goodbye before you entered the shower. They always left at seven o'clock at night, but you preferred to stay a little longer and enjoy the showers you paid for because you didn't have much to do at home when you got there.

With the towel over your right shoulder you walked towards the lockers to get your training bag and other belongings. You thought for a moment about leaving a few things from your bag since there would be a zumba class early tomorrow morning and maybe you were getting a little interested in going, when you heard some footsteps close to where you were.

There shouldn't have been too many people left in the gym at that time because closing time was at 8:00 p.m., so someone else must have gotten out of the shower to get their belongings just like you.

You decided to leave a few things in the locker for the next day's class, encouraging you a little more to leave the house a little earlier. Anyway, you knew Veronica would be there so you wouldn't be alone.

You pulled out the bag with the things you were going to take with you and closed the locker. You turned around to leave, when you finally realized who else had come in after you.

It was him. It was that man.

You had never met him in the evenings. He always left before seven o'clock so you never had the chance to meet him alone until that moment, when you stopped dead in front of him, your sneakers grinding against the floor as if you had braked violently at fifty kilometers per hour.

Your locker was all the way in the left corner of that room and it looked like his was a few spaces away from yours in the same direction, closer to the door.

His gaze lifted in your direction at the sound of your shoes and you had to squeeze your bag strap tightly over your shoulder, eating your embarrassment fiercely.

“Hey,” he spoke first and his voice was nothing like you had imagined.

It was incredibly better. His baritone tone, somewhat raspy and light, sounded like he didn't have a care in the world. The way he slightly curved his lips sent an electric sensation throughout your body. He had given you that smile before, but at that proximity it was a whole new experience. It seemed like your body began to vibrate on another frequency.

“How did you like the gym?”

“Uh?”

The man turned back to you, closing his locker almost at the same time and leaning his shoulder against it in the most smooth way you'd ever seen, handling his body with a confidence that almost made you feel intimidated.

“You're new here, aren't you?”

“Ah, yes,” you nodded slightly, again feeling that embarrassment make its way from your throat. “I've really liked the gym, I've felt very comfortable thankfully. And the monthly plans are very good, affordable.”

The man nodded attentively at your words, as you tried to keep your composure under his sharp gaze.

“I'm Bucky,” he suddenly introduced himself, stepping a little closer to where you stood.

“I'm Y/N,” you kept your voice steady as you raised your hand to meet his that had just extended in front of you at a safe distance. “A pleasure.”

“The pleasure's all mine,” Bucky gave your hand a good shake, causing things in your body that you were too embarrassed to admit. You didn't know if your cheeks could get flushed, but at that moment you felt like they looked cartoonish, vibrant red and hot. “And I'm glad to hear you're comfortable. I do my best to make my clients happy.”

“Oh…?”

Even though you felt spellbound under the piercing fierceness of those blue eyes, your ears were still working enough to allow your head to process what you'd heard.

“You're the owner?”

Bucky nodded and you wanted to hide your head in a hole for a moment.

So you'd been eye-fucking the owner of the gym? Hell, now that you thought about it more clearly, it could even be that this man was older than you, much older.

Oh no, the things you had to go through for not being a little more prudent. Good thing that embarrassing moment would only be in your head.

“And now that you know, you can drop any complaints or recommendations directly to me, if you want.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to cut through the awkwardness you felt inside as you realized the situation you were in.

“Sure, yeah, anything I need to tell you I'll do it personally.”

“Also if you want me to change something… give you something or do something, you can tell me.”

“Sure,” you nodded quickly, starting to move around him to get closer to the exit. Bucky wouldn't take his eyes off you. “Now I know I'm counting on you for anything…. From the gym, that is.”

Your awkward laugh died under his intense but amused gaze. Was he enjoying it?

“And you can talk to me, if you want too,” Bucky continued speaking as you completely surrounded him and now found yourself in the position he had been before, “not just watching me from afar.”

You were sure the blood had left your face by this time. Your level of embarrassment had gone over the edge and in that instant you didn't know how to do anything but look at him as if he had caught you in the middle of a crime. You tightened the strap of your bag while holding your breath as you noticed him moving a little closer towards you.

“It's not that it bothers me, don't go thinking that. It's just that… I'd like to get to know you a little more if that's possible.”

“Uhm…” you mumbled with a dry mouth, the reflection of the light in his blue eyes much clearer against the short distance between the two of you. You passed saliva with difficulty, shaking your head to answer him, “Yeah, sure. I'd like to know you too.”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he nodded at your words, not making a move to get any closer. If that five-foot distance alone already felt like you were suffocating, you didn't want to imagine what it would be like to have him standing to the side or behind you explaining how to do some exercise even though you already knew how to do them all…

Shit.

“See you then, doll.”

He walked around you, walking away from that conversation and that tension like it was nothing, like a bomb hadn't just exploded in front of you. You couldn't even say anything goodbye to him, you didn't know in that instant how to move your mouth.

For a moment you felt so foolish for allowing yourself to show yourself in such a vulnerable way in front of a man… but, at the same time, so much had happened since the last time you had actively flirted with one of them (even though what you had done at that moment had been spitting words). You'd barely had a taste to remember what the adrenaline, excitement and anticipation of having a truly fun night was like… that you didn't plan on letting go.

Bucky had thrown you that rope and you were sure you were going to take it.

-

a/n: thank you for reading!! <3