#and seeing how busy school is making me recently i will unfortunately have to miss out on these

[noctlas332]

day 17 my 2023 galasynth mirai

[literaila]

I need a timeline of gojo x reader (from the series) relationship in like bullet points I'm sorry I'm dumb 😔

no no i get you, babe. it’s probably more confusing for those who weren’t there while i was writing it (and didn’t see me crying on the tl). and i love bullet points and being confusing

okay so

back at jujutsu high

gojo and r meet

gojo is in his second year and r is just starting there

some say that he introduces himself by shaking her hand with his infinity up

r does not find this amusing

second year

very quickly gojo learns that he likes being around r

(it's stated that he gets to know her because he's jealous of this new kid who's ability is similar to his but i cannot confirm if this is true ((or if he just wanted to smooch her))

r is very closed off and isn't trying to be friends with anyone--she gets along with nanami and haibara because they are unfortunately... endearing

ha like this is going to stop gojo

he begins to seek her out personally because 1. he wants to beat everyone at becoming your best friend (or husband but who said that?) and 2. he gets lonely

it doesn't take r very long to get used to him

he's annoying and she kind of hates him but he's a good distraction from everything

she likes him because he doesn't think about things and counteracts her overthinking

at this point gojo already knows some about her family and they way she grew up because yaga forgot who he was speaking in front of during class one time

r finds it kinda nice that she doesn't have to explain it to him

they are running wild

gojo wakes her up at least three times a week to sneak out with him

they steal a car one time (this is necessary information yes)

during second year r:

becomes "friends" with gojo

is the infamous "girl of the group" who is loved by both kento and yu

r and geto get close because geto's family is similar to hers (canon who?)

shoko and her are obviously united

and everything is going just splendidly at this point

gojo and r get in trouble at least once a week for something

and they gaze in each other's eyes longly and spend their days trying not to make out with each other

denial is a friend to both of them

third year

at this point gojo and geto get sent on their joint mission and riko amanai dies

gojo avoids r for a good couple of weeks

well. he avoids everyone because he is becoming the strongest™

r seeks out geto to ask him about gojo

surprise to no one: geto isn't doing well and does nothing but give her more anxiety

geto defects

gojo and reader have their moment on the stairs

(yes he's always been strong enough for her, but who doesn't need some reassurance sometimes)

gojo doesn't text, call, or see her for six months

(nanami also leaves and r is all alone)

year one (also year zero)

after their six month sabbatical, gojo shows up at r's house with both of the children

(somehow they've both graduated don't ask me idk)

they've both been pining obviously

r assumes that gojo is too busy being... well, himself. who has time for some lowly underclassman?

gojo just thinks that she's busy. i mean, he misses her, but the world is a bit crazy and he's recently become a father so...

r thinks satoru has gone crazy but accepts his offer of becoming substitute mommy (because he asked her very nicely and she missed him but shhh)

turns out that r is not very cool or chill and worries about everything with the children

this includes:

where they're going to sleep

when they go to bed

how they talk to satoru

when they got their last haircut

how long they've been in school

when their birthdays are

what they like to eat

where to get them clothes

how to be a mother

are they sad?

do they miss their parents?

(okay i'm sorry but lets be real)

satoru is as cool as usual

he thinks the children are great and is not worried in the slightest

he also thinks that r is a bit addictive and wants to get some double-sided tape to stick to her (and himself)

the kids get comfortable and they all have a great time

(a slow burn time if you know what i mean)

year two

megumi and tsumiki are very used to their "nannies" now

i think at this point tsumiki is calling them "mom" and "dad" but i can't remember

she loves them very early on

they all mess with each other and the kids ask r for help whenever they need it

they don't ask gojo for help but thats because he's kinda dumb

they love him anyway btw dont worry

gojo is constantly bugging r about moving in and she refuses

because 1. no way in hell is she living with satoru when he looks like that and 2. moving sucks

gojo doesn't accept this but whatever

they proceed with the silent love and both of the kids catch on to this (obviously. they stare in each other's eyes like fifteen times a day and tsumiki loves rom-coms)

year three

r moves in

did gojo convince her? absolutely not

dont ask him that though

megumi begins his training with the ten shadows technique and both r and satoru do research on the history of the zenin clan

(should they have done this sooner? probably)

(gojo is a terrible teacher by the way -megumi)

at this point gojo decides he wants to return to jujutsu high to become!!!! teacher gojo!!!

and he obviously forces r to go with him (they cannot be separated)

they are doing just fine!

r is constantly fighting the urge to climb all over satoru and mess up his hair and see if she can leave a scar on him somewhere because his skin is so clear and smooth and it's honestly unfair

gojo is obviously getting his lousy flirting all over the house. and it stains

megumi tells him hes dumb at least seven times a day

sometimes they sleep in the same bed. next to each other. maybe a little on top of each other. whos to say

the details are unclear (read literally any part they are so obvious)

r reconnects with nanami so thats cool

year four

gahahahahah jealous gojo. you're welcome

obviously they're still in love??? did you think after four years they were just going to give in??? really??

buckle up kitten

so megumi accidentally calls r his mom (cause she is) and maybe cries a little bit about it (but i'm not supposed to tell you that)

he asks gojo a little about his parents and gojo basically moonwalks right out of that one

but gojo can be nice. in his own, asshole way

megumi isn't calling r mom to her face to be clear. just in his head. he needs a bit to get used to it

gojo and r get drunk one night and heres what follows:

they walk home together

they go to gojo's room and stumble into bed

gojo threatens to lock r in his basement at some point (do they actually have a basement? no, i don't think so)

it's just two best friends who are in love with each other and drunk really

hey, they both say

you're pretty, they both say

i like you, they say

r tells gojo that she loves him (her breath smells like stale wine)

me too, gojo tells her

they fall asleep

they absolutely do not talk about it afterwards who do you think they are??

at this point there's some tension because gojo is effectively avoiding r and r is just trying to take care of her family

they fight over megumi and his progress as a sorcerer

they're really fighting over each other but i didn't tell you that

gojo eventually leaves and comes home later to r crying in her bed

she tells him that he can't leave her and he promises that he won't

they fall asleep again

in the morning everything is calm

oh, besides the like... minor kissing that happens in the kitchen

they had to give in to the teenage impulses at some point, okay?

year five

bunch of normal stuff

megumi is curious about why jujutsu makes r so nervous

she tells him a little ??

he calls her mom officially

gojo tells r that she is good enough for all of them and she maybe believes him

they are doing their typical "oh goodnight" "oh sweet dreams" and then sneaking into each other's rooms like ten minutes later

they do make out basically every night. this is an unspoken thing. its nice though. they just fit

at some point they run into r's mom and gojo is very macho and cool and r gets sad but it's okay because her (almost) husband is there to help her

both of the kids are as cute as always

gojo gets jealous again (you're welcome x2)

on the anniversary of suguru's defection satoru closes himself off and they sleep apart for the first time in at least a year

hey, i never said that they worked on their emotional regulation

because of circumstances (work, children, etc) they don't seek each other very much for about a week

year six

and then r comes home all beat up from a mission

satoru quietly takes care of her

and finally, after nine years of knowing each other, they confess

(it goes how we all thought it would)

after that, they're officially together

before neither one of them would've accepted the term "boyfriend/girlfriend" or "husband/wife" but would've squealed internally like children if someone assumed they were

this is so long and unnecessary but so is their entire relationship. this is all just what's apart of the official story but the blurbs are their own thing. insert them where you will

i hope this helps clear some of it up. but if it doesn't i can no longer help. idk either

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

pairing: hyunjin x gn reader

genre: angst

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: established relationship, drinking, jealousy, mentions of cheating, use of the word ‘whore’, crying, members choosing sides 😬(kind of)

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace.

masterlist * part 2

You looked at hyunjin, so handsome, his hair sticking to his forehead, a grin on his face as he danced in front of you. The bass was shaking your bones and the lights were flashing as you swayed to the music. The club was packed and you were surrounded by people, your favorites in your immediate vicinity. You all had been drinking— especially Jisung, who was slurring his words, with a very sober Minho hovering around him putting the fear of god in anyone who came to close. You looked at Felix, his smile giving the sun a run for its money, having the time of his life dancing with Changbin. Jeongin and Seungmin were dancing around Chan, poking him and making fun of his ‘old man dance moves’. You took in the moment. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you started to get emotional. Not to the point where you were going to start ugly crying in the club, but your heart definitely gave a squeeze. You loved these guys. They were your best friends in the whole world. And you couldn’t love anyone more than you loved your boyfriend, hyunjin. He came up behind you now, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder and swaying with you. He placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You squeezed his arms, pulling them tighter around you. You didn’t think life could get much better than this. And just on time, here comes your bladder to ruin the moment.

You turned around in his arms, kissing his lips quickly. "I’ve got to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back." You said directly into his ear so he could hear you.

"I’ll come with you." He said.

"No, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be a sec." You didn’t want to pull him away from his fun.

He nodded at you and kissed your cheek. You squeezed his hand and turned away, headed in the direction of the bathroom. Pushing through the crowd of people, you found the bathroom, and unfortunately you found the line that stretched from the door. You sighed, and took your place at the back of the line. You pulled your phone out, scrolling social media. The line moved slowly, but eventually you were able to make your way inside and do your business. You washed your hands and left the restroom, headed back to your friends.

"Yn?" You heard a deep voice call from behind you. You turned around to find an old friend from school, who you hadn’t seen in years.

"Hey! Oh my gosh, how are you?" You asked, pulling him into a hug.

"I’m great, thanks. Just got married." He lifted his hand, wiggling his fingers, showing the ring. "My better half is around here somewhere, I think he went to the bathroom." He chuckled.

"That’s amazing! Congratulations!" You bounced up and down on your toes, excited.

"How are things with you?" He asked.

"Fantastic actually. My boyfriend and my friends are out on the floor dancing. I was just making my way back to them."

"Well it was so nice to see you, we should get together for dinner sometime. Maybe a double date." He offered.

"Absolutely!" You pulled your phone out. "Here, give me your number and we will set it up." He put his number in your phone and handed it back. After another quick hug, he went off to find his new husband and you headed back to your friends.

You soon found them in the same spot you left them, but missing a couple. Your boyfriend was gone and so was Chan. You approached Minho, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned quickly, and met your gaze.

"Where’s Jinnie?" You asked, leaning in.

Minho reached out and grabbed a handful of a wandering Jisung’s shirt from behind. He pulled him close. "Stop trying to escape." He told him.

"Dance with me, honey!" Jisung shouted in Minho’s face, dancing sloppily. Minho rolled his eyes and you giggled.

Minho turned back to you. "I saw him walking toward the door, and then Chan followed him a second later. Probably just needed some fresh air."

"I’m going to go find him" you said.

Minho nodded before being violently pulled by Jisung into a dance circle with Felix and Changbin. You laughed at the look on Minho’s face, completely unamused. You knew he had a huge soft spot for Jisung, he was just too good at hiding it.

Leaving them behind, you pushed your way through the crowd, bursting through the front door, cold air meeting your damp sweaty skin. You looked around for the guys. There were a few small groups of people waiting for cabs and a couple loners leaning against the building, smoke rolling from their mouths. You stood on your tiptoes, looking over their heads before finally spotting Hyunjin, sitting on the ground, his back against the building, his forearms resting on his bent knees. Smiling, you made your way over to him.

"Baby, where did you go?" You asked, finally reaching him.

He looked up at you from the ground, and your heart dropped. His cheeks were wet with tears. Your brow furrowed. "Baby-"

He stood up quickly. "Don’t you baby me." He said, pointing at you.

You were confused to say the least. You reached for his hand, but he pulled away quickly before you could touch him. "Jinnie, whats the matter?"

"Like you don’t know. Don’t play dumb, yn." He turned away, his hands running through his hair.

"I don’t know what’s going on." You say, feeling extremely sober now, but nauseated all the same.

He scoffed. "I can’t believe you. I never thought that you would do something like this. How could you cheat on me? Am I not good to you?" His tone sounded sad now. "I know I’m gone a lot for my work, but I thought we were doing okay."

"Cheating on you?" You asked, shocked. "I am not cheating on you."

That only made him angry. "Don’t lie to me!" He yelled. The smokers turned to look in your direction, but hyunjin didn’t notice. Or he didn’t care. "I saw you with him, hugging him, he put his number in your phone, yn! You just give your number to any guy who asks? I didn’t know you were such a whore." He spat.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. And those pieces poked and cut at your lungs, making it impossible to draw breath. "Excuse me?"

"Just go away, yn." He said, waving his hand and pacing back and forth, looking anywhere but at you.

You were frozen to the spot, tears brimming your eyes about to spill over onto your cheeks. Everyone was staring now. You couldn’t let him get away with this, you felt the need to hurt him as much as he is hurting you. But you didn’t think you could do it. "That guy putting his number in my phone, is a friend of mine from school." You tell him. He scoffs again, still refusing to look at you. "He was excited to tell me that he just got married."

He stopped his pacing and looked at you. He took in your red eyes, your quivering bottom lip and his heart broke. "He gave me his number so we could set up a double date. With me and you and him and his new husband." You said quietly.

Shit, he had fucked up.

"There you are." Chan said, out of breath. "I went inside looking for you, and then Minho said you went out here looking for me and it’s just a mess." You could hear the smile in his voice, but then he saw your face. "Yn what’s wrong?" He asked. And his question tipped you over the edge, tears falling freely now, sobs shaking your chest, legs giving out. Chan caught you, pulling you into his chest. "Hey, hey. Talk to me. What happened?" He asked, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"Hyung, what’s happening?" You heard Felix ask.

"Hyunjin, why is yn crying?" Changbin added. You could hear the trepidation in his voice, prepared to deal with whoever made you cry.

You cried harder at the mention of his name, holding on to Chan as tight as you could, soaking his shirt.

"Hyunjin?" Chan asked, looking over to him while still holding your shaking body.

You lifted your head and looked into the direction of your boyfriend. Was he even still your boyfriend? You couldn’t see him through your tears, but you would know his outline any day. You could recognize him from his shadow on the ground. He took a wary step toward you.

"Yn.. I’m so sorry." He said, reaching his hand out.

You clung to Chan. You didn’t really want to be touched by anyone at this moment, especially Hyunjin. But you didn’t trust yourself to be able to stand on your own and Chan was supporting your weight. He could feel you grip him tighter and he ever so slightly pulled you away from Hyunjin.

"What did you do?" Minho asked, angry.

"I- I accused her of cheating on me before I knew the whole story. Yn please." He took another step toward you. In response, Chan took a step back (always the protector). "I jumped to conclusions, I’m so sorry. Please, baby, talk to me. I’m sor-"

"Don’t you baby me, hyunjin." You said, quoting him, your voice finding traction through your tears but still sounding watery. "Isn’t that what you said to me? Oh and that I’m a whore?" Jisung let out a gasp somewhere behind you.

Hyunjin’s shoulders slumped, and his head fell. "I’m sorry.." he said quietly.

Felix moved to his side, nervously grabbing Hyunjin by the arm.

"Let’s just go home, yeah?" Chan said, gently. "You can talk it out when your sober and calm." He used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You nodded at him. "Okay, cmon sweetie." He led you down the sidewalk, his arm protectively around your shoulder. Changbin, Minho, and Han followed, the latter pulling out his phone to call a cab.

Felix held Hyunjin as slow tears were falling down his cheeks, watching you walk away from him and knowing it was all his fault. "It’s okay, Jin. You’ll work it out. I’ll help you." Felix whispered.

"Does anyone want to explain what’s happening?" Seungmin said, having just walked out of the club with Jeongin.

"And why are you crying?" Jeongin added.

Felix shook his head, meaning he will tell them later. "Just order us an Uber or something." Felix told him.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[desultory-novice]

I recently found out that “weekend Susie” is a mistranslation and it’s actually called “susie on vacation” in jpn. I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to be Susie in the future like Manager Magolor..any ideas on why shes missing her hairclip and the “Secretary” title she always has in jpn? Susie is so hard to figure out..like how she only smiles three times in the entirety of robobot (once when she takes the program controller and twice when singing the noble haltmann but ONLY when saying the words father in jpn) so I’m curious on what your thoughts are on her (and unfortunately has the worst localization ever…i had to look at the robobot translations from @/kaialone on tumblr) sorry for rambling but shes so interesting to me and it’s a bit sad seeing how a lot of the details she has in characterization never get talked about

Anon...Did you somehow know I've been replaying Robobot in Japanese?! And it's basically strengthened my confirmation that some people - though less than before - are a bit too harsh and/or restrictive in their takes on both Susie and her father. 

That said, I do I try to give people room to "safely hate" these fictional characters as, for a lot of people, it may be one of their only ways of processing a gross problem that affects the real world/so much of history that they can't do much about.

But I love the silly/tragic Haltmann family. I'm sympathetic and even semi-defensive towards 'em. Which is why I'm happy to answer any good faith Haltmann asks.

Ahem! Also, before I get into it, I wanted to say that technically "Weekend Susie" vs "Susie on Vacation" is not a mistranslation per se.

What it IS is a localization.

休日 can mean "vacation," yes. When you break down the kanji, literally it is made up of the words "rest day." So it can also be just about any day when you're not working/not at school/not busy.

For most of western civilization (not me because I'm a contractor XD ) the weekends are people's "rest days." To read 休日 as "weekend" might not even be that much of a stretch/localization!

Probably explains the lack of "secretary" title. She's literally not on the clock! As for the hairclip, who can say...? Similar reasons? I know in Susie's case, it's sentimental, though hairpins in Japan often have this association with studiousness/"time to get serious" so removing it is an easy indicator "She's allowing herself time to be silly!"

I do like to imagine that this is a post-canon Susie though. That girl deserves something nice after her trauma...

Anyway, reminder that post-FL, the localizers have been working more closely with the Japanese team to create a more accurate translation for us. I know the wounds from PR's rough translation (and SA's fast-and-loose in weird places one) still hurt, oof, but the Kirby series is getting better about its translations!!

Actually... you know... there's not THAT many cutscenes...

Maybe I will make my own "If they'd hired Dess to translate Planet Robobot" translation of the game? I've already threatened several times to do a full translation of "The Noble Haltmann" with all references/metaphors intact...

But yes! Speaking of how Susie uses her emotions, I was so moved by something in her first meeting with Kirby, I actually wrote about it! And I'm going to share it here, because you might find it interesting~

-

So, I had my eyes peeled for any interesting bits of characterization left behind on the cutting room floor. Immediately, I was amused by how politely Susie talks to Kirby in the beginning. She doesn't really "talk down to him" or insult his intelligence in the slightest. (One could argue that it's a false business politeness, of course. Although she only breaks that in like, the second to last cutscene) Any dismissal of him feels very "company-mandated." (And the company is run by a murderous computer but leaving that aside...)

She gently praises how beautiful the water and the air on this planet is and that's when something... starts to change in her...

Susie gets impossibly sad. And her attitude changes COMPLETELY.

I stopped for a second reading this. "Hold on. What? Why does she lose her cool HERE? Is this some indication that the place she and her dad used to live on was a really poor planet without clean air and drinking water?" And heck, maybe that is the case!

But something else struck me about her line:

"...You don't even know the value of what you have..."

It's not the snooty we-know-better-than-you "misappropriation of resources" that is triggering her. It is having something precious right next to you and you don't even recognize it.

It's about her dad. Right from the beginning.

She can't NOT talk about it. It affects all her actions. Maybe another reason while I feel like it's better to judge Susie on a whole than any one individual action she takes, because (like Magolor, oops oops oops) she is masking her intentions alllll the time.

Also, omg, I know some people are still sensitive about the Mechaknight thing but that is PEAK grim humor in Japanese! It is treated way too cold and business-like in English, imo.

In Japanese, she starts to describe him exactly like she's telling her bestie that she just met the man of her dreams and then the WHAM line: "So, I gave him a full-body modification!"

Yes, it's unhinged. But it's also wonderful. (She's so Eggman-core.)

[mischivana]

Letting You Go Was the Hardest Thing I had to Do.

Will Solace x Sibling!reading

Requested by anonymous.

Masterlist

I looked out the window again, it was English and again I wasn't paying attention. My mind was elsewhere, on something, someone, more important. I watched as the pairs of late siblings ran to the school from the parking lot or ran out of minivans being scolded by their mothers.

I thought about my brother again. My half-brother. How much I missed him and how mad I was that he chose not to be here. I knew it wasn’t his fault though, it was his dad’s. Yep we have different fathers. But it’s more complicated than that.

My name is y/n Solace, my half-brother is Will Solace. The thing that sets us apart though, he’s a demi-god. His father is Apollo, yep the sun dude. I'm not a demi-god, pure mortal blood right here. It never got in the way of our brother-sister relationship though, not until now at least.

During the summer Will goes to this camp, Camp Half-Blood I think he called it. It's basically a safe haven for demi-gods, a place where they can train and be safe from monsters. Yep monsters, they’re real. One almost killed me and my brother one time. I think he called it an Empousai?

Usually he only goes during the summer, hence the name SUMMER camp. Which was nice, he would go to camp and then spend the school year with me. Sure I couldn’t be with my best friend for 3 months but I’d wrather he’d be alive. But this year he decided to stay at camp, which means I won’t see him for another year. Mom says it’s because he's the head of the Apollo cabin and their best healer. Makes sense, still hurts.

I was too busy thinking about my brother to notice my name being called. “y/n? y/n? Y/N!” my teacher yelled. I quickly turned to the board and saw a couple people snicker. I ignored them and said “Yes miss?” I didn’t know what she wanted but I knew it wasn’t good. “Since you seem to be so distracted, you must know the topic already? Care to answer the question on the board?” I looked at the board and answered quickly. “The subject is referring to a place so the correct form would be ‘there’ not ‘their’” I said. She looked at me for a second, pleased with my answer, before turning and continuing her lecture.

I looked back towards the window when I heard a ridiculous scream followed by the sound of running footsteps and hooves on the epoxy floor. A scream that I had unfortunately recognized. For some reason my half-brother, William Andrew Solace, was at my school with a satyr screaming at the top of his lungs. Without thinking I ran out of the class room and saw Will, a satyr, and a younger girl who I’d assumed was a recently discovered half-blood, running down the hall. I looked back and saw three snake women climbing the stairs and started running with them. Before I knew it I was right next to them.

“HEY WILL!” I yelled at him. “HEY Y/N! WAIT Y/N? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” he said as we all turned a corner. “I GO TO SCHOOL HERE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AREN’T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE CAMP?” I yelled, biting back my anger. “IN HERE” the satyr yelled. We rushed into the supply room and barricaded the door quickly.

Once the door was barricaded I turned to face my brother, who was on the ground from exhaustion. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I THOUGHT YOU COULDN’T COME BACK THIS YEAR! YOU CHOSE TO STAY AT CAMP?” I yelled at him, all the anger in my body finally releasing. “Calm down, I swear I can explain-” he started to say but I cut him off. “EXPLAIN? EXPLAIN WHAT? THAT YOU LIED? YOU TOLD ME YOU COULDN’T COME BACK HOME BUT HERE YOU ARE! AT HOME!” I yelled at him, tears starting to form in my eyes. “Y/n LISTEN!” he yelled.

I shut up quickly and stared at him. “I did have to stay at camp, you're right,” he paused, “being head counselor of the Apollo cabin and head of the infirmary required it, at least for the first year” he looked at me with a sympathetic look, like he didn’t even like what he was saying. But why didn’t he at least tell me he was coming here?

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though!” I told him. “I'm here for her” he said and pointed at the young girl, “she’s a demi-god and a rather powerful one, maybe a big three kid. They needed to send a cabin head to get her” he explained. “Why didn’t they send Nico? He’s a cabin head and a big three kid right?” I questioned. He sighed and said “Nico is in New Rome right now representing Hades-” “Pluto” I corrected “-Pluto, whatever it is and I was the only cabin head at the ready” He said, it made sense but still.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” “If I had more notice I would have, trust me, but I was told about her 10 hours ago!” he said. I looked at him for another second before attacking him with a hug, he hugged back and got warmer. He was glowing, he did that when he got happy, I thought it was funny, I knew his boyfriend Nico thought so too.

After we let go we were able to explain to the demigod, who I learned was named Hannah, what was going on and who she really was. It took her a while to believe it, but Will told me it always does. The satyr, who was named Oakly, told us we needed to leave as soon as possible. The only problem was that the monsters were still out. Slowly and quietly we unbarricaded the door and Will crept out, quiver on shoulder and bow in hand. We closed the door again, I was scared for my brother but before I knew it he’d opened the door covered in golden dust.

We made it safely out of the school and back to the “Delphi Strawberry Service” van they’d taken here. I saw Argus, the hundred handed guy in the driver seat. My brother may be a demigod and it may have gotten me face to face with all sorts of monsters but I would never get used to that guy.

I gave Will one more hug, and almost crying I said “So I guess you’re leaving again? Probably pretty easy for a demigod”. He let go of the hug, his hands still on my shoulders, and said “staying at camp? not being able to see my sister? Leaving you for camp was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and It’s harder the second time” now we were both about to cry. “Make sure to tell who claimed her, be safe glow stick” “you too homegirl” I gave him one more hug and cried into his shirt before letting him go. I watched the van drive away, wiped my tears and headed back into the school for lunch.

*a few days later*

I woke up, it was saturday which meant no school. I ran outside and checked the mail for any word from Will. I saw a yellow envelope with a wax seal with the image of the sun on it. I grabbed it, ran upstairs, and ripped it open. It said next to nothing.

“Hades

Glowstick :)”

I smiled again. My brother had made it to camp safely and Nico had a sister.

[makeste]

[39 weeks later]

well all right then. I owe some explanations and some updates, so let's just get straight to that.

1. "what the hell, makeste. you can't just disappear for nine months and leave a sign on your blog that says "gone leavin'.'"

yeah I know. sorry guys.

so there are a lot of reasons for my long absence, but when you boil it all down, the essence is basically as follows: at its absolute max capacity, my ADHD brain is capable of keeping up with any two of the following: (1) work; (2) school; (3) tumblr. that's it. only two. no more and no less.

and for years this has not mattered at all because school was no longer in the picture! but as mentioned in my last two update posts, as of this past January, I had to start taking classes again for career advancement reasons, meaning my brain was quickly overloaded and something had to give. so yeah. I can assure you the past nine months have absolutely sucked and I am not AT ALL sure that it was worth it, but it is what it is.

I also want to add that I never intended to basically fall off the face of the earth anywhere near to this extent, let alone for this long. but in retrospect I probably should have seen it coming, seeing as this is not the first time it's happened, sob. and also in hindsight, towards the end of last year (during which I was already struggling to keep up with the weekly BnHA reactions) someone mentioned that it sounded like I was showing signs of being potentially close to burnout. turns out that observation was spot on lol.

so yeah. tl;dr, burnout + an obnoxiously busy real life schedule + a sprinkling of good old-fashioned ADHD "somehow I always underestimate how hard it is to restart something after taking a long break from it, and the longer I go without returning the worse it gets" brain shenanigans (more on that last part further down).

2. "MAKESTE. WHILE YOU WERE GONE, IN THE MANGA, THERE WAS A THING -- "

yes I have unfortunately been spoiled about The Thing.

3. "so wait, exactly how spoiled are you?? CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE THING"

I will make a separate post to talk about The Thing! I expect that many people will want to talk about this, and tbh I've really been wanting to talk about it too! I'm telling you, when I say the past nine months have sucked, I mean they have truly SUCKED, you guys. school is so fucking boring and I miss rambling about fandom stuff so fucking much.

anyway but with that said, ~*~PLEASE DO NOT TALK ABOUT ANY SPOILERS IN THIS POST~*~. I don't want to delete anybody's comments! but I will if necessary because I am a spoiler narc and I don't want to risk accidentally ruining stuff on the off chance that a non-spoiled person comes across this post. so yeah. however please do feel free to message me or comment in my other post (which I will link once it’s up; eta: here it is) if you do want to talk about The Thing.

4. "so aside from The Thing, are you otherwise caught up with the BnHA manga currently?"

so here's the hilarious part: no, I am not caught up. not even remotely. literally the last chapter of BnHA I read was chapter 339, which is the most recent chapter that I liveblogged, all the way back on December 31, 2021. I literally have not read a single new BnHA chapter in the year of our lord 2022 lol. :') basically for the same reasons I mentioned in my previous update post. tl;dr, reading/liveblogging a single new BnHA chapter is a minimum 4+ hour commitment for me, and by this point I have accrued a backlog of... oh sweet lord. 35 total chapters lol. so yeah. that's approximately 140 hours of catch-up that I need to do, which is paralyzing just to think about.

I do still plan on catching up, obviously! I'm just not sure how, lol. I may have some time to spare this weekend, so I might try to binge a few chapters and see how it goes. then I'll have to come up with some sort of sustainable posting schedule. I've been thinking about this for a while and I might try to do a Mon/Wed/Fri thing if I can swing it, but I don't want to commit to anything for sure yet until I see how those first few chapters go. fingers crossed, though.

anyway so I guess that's it. post is getting long. anything more will just be rambling.

sorry again, guys. how is everyone? what did I miss. aside from twitter dying and tumblr welcoming the refugees into our culture by inviting them to participate in the newly created fandom of a nonexistent 1970s mafia film.

[voidify333]

20 Questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @almarnatiaam- thanks!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

36

2. What's your total A03 word count?

133,211

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Ace Attorney these days.

I've also written for Les Mis and Good Omens; Les Mis makes up most of my works at 20 (though 4 of those aren't really fics, they're fanart pieces I posted to ao3 for sewerexchange).

And there's a couple random fics that aren't any of these: The Temptation Of Immediate Relief is a Pride & Prejudice missing scene fic that I wrote for high school english class and posted a polished version after graduation, and All Alone is a short War & Peace fic expanding the character of Anatole's wife who's entirely just a plot device with no character in canon (elephant in the room: the name I chose for her was retroactively made weird by my later fandom journeys by being cognate to the name of a completely different character, but like, whatever). I still think both of these are pretty good

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Wilson & Sons (Good Omens outsider POV fic about Aziraphale's barber, a family business that he's been going to since the 1700s), at 1861 kudos

You're Better Off Without Him (Good Omens outsider POV about the guy in episode 4 who says that line), at 763 kudos

perfectly statue-still (Ace Attorney 3+1 fic about elevators being a trigger for Miles, angst with a happy ending), at 433 kudos

driving back in style (in my saloon will do quite nicely) (Good Omens fic, silly cute little A/C getting together scenario), at 303 kudos

naughty list (Ace Attorney fic; angst with a happy ending; the premise is that Gregory didn't get to tell Miles that Santa wasn't real so when the von karma household didn't do santa Miles thought he was on the naughty list for a solid 4 years. If you haven't read it, ho ho ho 'tis the season to read it now), at 241 kudos

Yeah, my good omens stuff is never being unseated from the top of my leaderboard unless I end up getting into an even bigger fandom at some point in the future

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, because comments absolutely give me life and I need a constant stream of them, but unfortunately I don't get around to it often enough

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Absolute angstiest out of my published works is probably my very first ao3 fic, not quite nowhere to turn. Valjean sees Javert die and is too late to do anything. The fic is very flawed in that I was 15 and had not learned how to do subtlety, I can't look at it now, but I was a hyperlexic kid with A's in English so I think it's still better than what most people were writing as teens

Second answer is merry christmas., my most recent fic (if you haven't read it yet, HO HO HO TIS THE SEASON), it's Miles' POV for the first bit of Turnabout Goodbyes, it ends on a note of hopelessness that he's doomed to be convicted, but it only debatably counts since anyone who's played the games knows that the turnabout is coming

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my stuff has pretty happy endings, that's just my sensiility as a writer-- even "not quite nowhere to turn" has an afterlife reunion scene-- so I'm not sure what to say here.

There's some fics where the conflict was trivial in the first place (comedy and crack stuff), there's some fics where I feel in hindsight that the ending was a copout and that a rockier path to happiness would have been more interesting if I had mustered the strength to write it (When Tomorrow Comes is the primary example tbh), and there's some where it feels earned (the fics in this category include the ones I like the most)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've thankfully never gotten hate on AO3 that I can recall

9. Do you write smut?

Yes I do, but none of it is up on my ao3 account at this time. I have a ton in my google docs though...

10. Do you write crossovers?

I've written a couple. Both of them, funnily enough, of the format "javert meets one of my other blorbos and they recognise what they have in common"

In "and if you fall" (honestly the point of the title would have landed better if I did the full lyric "and if you fall (as lucifer fell)" but at the time that felt too corny), Crowley happens to be in the right place at the right time to talk Javert down from jumping (context: within GO book canon Crowley was asleep for the 19th century except for getting up in 1832 for a loo break)

In "The Choice Of Death" Miles Edgeworth meets Javert's ghost (AA ghost lore notwithstanding) one liminal night during his year away

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

On a tangent though, bc there's no question directly relevant to share this info, I HAVE gotten fanart for a fic before: this amazing fanart by @maym0rin for chapter 2 of "perfectly statue-still" (she gave me permission to crosspost it on tumblr bc she didn't have tumblr at the time but she later got tumblr when the twitter ship started sinking). There is nothing more flattering as an author than getting fanart, I hope this first time isn't the last time

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I helped with @almarnatiaam's fic A King's Heart and got a co-writer credit.

And outside of cowriting on the level of be listed as cowriter on ao3, my friend who doesn't have tumblr (it's tsl for all the mtnr server friends reading this) and I have been collaborating and bouncing ideas on each other's fics for... wow, it's been over a year now!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Honestly it would have to be Valvert because it got to me at a formative time and has shaped the kinds of ships I like for life

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

What do you mean "the" wip????

I have two dead fics and counting (one for les mis, one for good omens), and that's just the ones where I posted the initial content before realising it's too intimidating to finish. There's so many more in my docs; my friends know about some of them

16. What are your writing strengths?

Here are some that I have no problem bragging about, I reread my own fics often and smile at the moments where I did a banger line

Character voice (especially when the characters are my blorbos)

Using fancy vocabulary with precision in the prose to achieve effect (a skill born from trying to copy the vibes of victor hugo)

Witty prose humour (a skill born from trying to copy the vibes of pratchett & gaiman)

Prose from the POV of someone in a fucked up state- someone in a dark place emotionally, or someone whose motivations are fundamentally misguided or outright malicious. This is THE most fun shit to write for me

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Committing to long term character pain and tragic character conflict when it's not pulled/extrapolated directly from canon. I have many times read a fic where the author puts blorbo through the ringer and thought "damn if only I wasn't such a fucking coward and could write stuff like this". I've become less of a coward over the years and now enjoy

Writing anything long without a detailed plan for the entire thing

The need to use words with precision and write perfectly in character is as much a weakness as a strength. I am not a "write a whole first draft then edit" person I am a "dot points for the bits I don't have perfect words for" person and this sometimes causes issues where I assume I'll figure out how to get from A to B later but then it turns out to not make sense to get from A to B

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have 4 years of Duolingo French and have used this occasionally for my Les Mis works. The way I think of my Les Mis works is that the characters are all speaking French behind the fourth wall but the fourth wall translates for us, so I avoid puns that only work in English except on a couple super cracky occasions.

For Inspector Javert Chooses Death (a fic with the premise "AU where instead of dying Javert fakes his death like Edgeworth and goes to england and unrepresses his homosexuality") I was originally planning to write the whole letter near the end of the fic in french and put the translation in footnote but my beta reader got confused so I scrapped that and had the prose paraphrase most of the letter and only included one French sentence

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First fandom I published fic on ao3 for was Les Mis. First fandom I published fic anywhere online for was Animorphs (when I was 12 I published a weird dark comedy fic to FFN which was a 5+1 or similar format of Visser Three executing people for slighting him by morphing into huge creatures and eating them. Then people on animorphsforum.com told me the fic was bad so I lost all confidence and didn't write fic again for years)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Right now it's between my two most recent AA solo fics: merry christmas. (already explained; 1-4 fic) and the perfect weapon (Manfred POV throughout his revenge plot, SUPER fun to write all that villain pov, grew from the premise "he had to have known about the nightmare to plan all that")

My best Les Mis fic is but i have seen the same (i know the shame in your defeat); it explores my favourite parallel with a cool alternating scene format and I actually still like the writing and characterisation even all these years later which is a rare honour for one of my high school Les Mis fics

Tagging: @squadron-of-damned @kaleran @samioli @ashkazora @azalawa-scroggs

[inwintersolitude]

- February 28th 2024 -

What were you doing one hour ago? Looking around online for house painting businesses. I want the crown moulding on the kitchen cabinets in the new house painted white to match the rest of the cabinets.

Where were your parents born? My mom was born in Delaware, and my dad was born in New Jersey.

Have you ever used public transportation to get to work? Yep, back when I was in college and working at the university airport, I took the bus there for the first year-ish that I worked there, until I bought my first car.

What do you miss the most from before Covid times? Not having to worry about catching it lol. Unfortunately I'm not able to get any further Covid vaccines because 2 out of the 4 boosters I've had so far gave me heart problems, and the most recent one gave me a full-on heart rhythm disorder that I need to take medication for long-term. It's been over a year since that last booster and I'm still not better. I'm very pro-vaccine, I'm just one of the very very few unlucky people to have a serious complication from it.  But thankfully I've never had Covid, I'm really hoping I simply have some sort of natural immunity to it.

What has been the best thing to happen to you in the past year? Traveling to Ireland last September/October with my husband, parents, brother, and sister-in-law.  And also my husband and I are currently buying a house which is super exciting.

Who do you have listed as emergency contacts in your phone? My husband, my brother, and my parents.

Are you prone to jealousy? Nope.

How did you get through the lowest point in your life? Loads of self-care, and the support of my husband.

Have you ever been someone's first love? Yep, my husband and I are each other's first loves.

Have you ever played frisbee golf? I played it once in gym class my freshman year of high school.  There was a huge park across the street from the school, and it had a frisbee golf course.

What is your favorite silly, feel-good movie? The Barbie movie lol.

How old were you when you got your first gaming console, and what kind was it? Around 8.  Nintendo 64.

Who in your family has the coolest job? My husband is an airline pilot, and as a former commercial pilot myself (non airline) of course I think that's cool. I also have a second cousin who's a boat captain up on Cape Cod. Oh and my brother's job is pretty neat too, he does anti-fraud investigation in the banking industry.

Is cereal technically a soup? Haha I suppose you could see it that way.

Have you found your first gray hairs yet Nope.

What is something that drains your energy really quickly? Socializing with anyone other than close family.  I'm a hardcore introvert, that shit wears me out so fast.

Did you parents teach you how to make a budget before you moved out on your own? Yep.  My parents are very financially savvy and they made sure to teach me all of that.

What is your favorite food to put gravy on? Roast turkey and stuffing.

Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep, one of my friends from flight school was from Canada. And my Great Grandy and Nana lived in Montréal for many years, but they weren't originally from there.

What's your opinion on astrology? It's unscientific rubbish.

Do you use TikTok? Nope.

What do you have going on the rest of the day? Hardly anything.  I'm going to have dinner soon, and then I need to wash my hair because I'm meeting my realtor and home inspector at the new house tomorrow and I don't want to look like a greasy hobo.

[tolbachik]

Hi! This is Cube/🎲! This is my main blog, but I mostly post on @junecast-moonfast nowadays :D

Don’t worry about the delay, this is a very busy time of year! I hope you had a good Christmas ^^

The main universities I’m applying to are Rutgers, Syracuse, and Drexel! I’m also just thinking of just applying all over (as long as the application fees aren’t too high) to see if any schools give me scholarship money lol

Conlangs have always been super interesting to me! I’ve considered trying my hand at making one, but I think I’d need to get a better grasp on linguistics before I do that. Are there any conlangs in particular you’d be interested in taking up? ^^

Pieeogis are great! My mom and I were supposed to homemake them for Christmas, but unfortunately we didn’t get around to it. We still have the filling, so we might make them some time this week :]

Swedish seems like such an interesting language! Also, your reason for learning it is so sweet. It must be a lot of fun to be able to learn a language with a friend who’s a native speaker :D

Arabic is also a fascinating language! The place where I grew up has a pretty large arabic population, so a lot of my friends growing up spoke it. Unfortunately though, I never picked up on any of it.

The math class I got to miss because of choir was applied math, so it was all word problems. In hindsight, it might’ve been an interesting class, but also I know that middle school me would’ve hated it haha

I looked up the erhu, and the sound is so pretty! I imagine that it sounded especially beautiful live, I feel like sometimes music just cannot be entirely captured through video. You can’t really go wrong with string instruments, they all sound so nice :]

I’ll be honest, I never realized how weird our focus on Mars is until you pointed it out! You’re totally right though, focusing on Mars seems entirely arbitrary considering that other planets were also candidates for being habitable in the past. It seems like sometimes in science, we get stuck focusing so hard on one discovery that we lose sight of the bigger picture!

Yeah! I tend to be a bit of a pessimist, but you’re right that a better future is possible if we work together for it! It’s sad to think about what could’ve been, but we also have the chance to make change now!

If I could see any dead musicians live, I think I’d have to go with ELP (Carl Palmer is still alive, but unfortunately the other two members have passed), David Bowie, or David Berman. Keith Emerson was a wonderful showman, and a wonderful musician! Same for David Bowie. David Berman’s music is just so beautiful and hard hitting that I imagine it would’ve been an amazing experience to see him perform live. As for living musicians, I would’ve loved to see Eno on the recent tour he went on, but unfortunately the timing just wasn’t right.

One thing that I found particularly funny about Caligula is that when he invaded Britain he had his soldiers collect sea shells. There was some logic behind why he did this, but I’ve since forgotten it. It’s just a little silly to imagine Roman soldiers just frolicking on the shore and grabbing sea shells haha

Another nautical Caligula fun fact is that he was rumored to have declared war on Poseidon. Assuming the Greco-Roman gods are real, this would’ve been a particularly bad move considering that when Odysseus pissed off Poseidon, it didn’t turn out particularly well for him lol

I’m in a similar boat to you in regards to religion. I haven’t moved out yet, but I’d still consider myself agnostic or an atheist. However, I still celebrate Christmas.

Happy holidays! It was great to be your Santa this year, I’m so glad that we got paired up! I wish you well for the coming year ahead. Take care! :D

- 🎲

Hi!! So, so sorry for how late this. I appreciate your patience! I hope you had a lovely holiday season, and a great start to the new year as well. I hope that this year goes exactly how you want it to! Wow, that's quite the list!! Which one are you hoping to get into the most? Sounds like a real exciting time, I really hope you can get a nice scholarship!! I get that! What sort of conlang do you think you'd try to make, if you had the time and resources to do so? Hmmm... I'm not sure, there are a lot of options out there! I'll have to do a little shopping around, I think. I do kind of have one main for my story, but it's very... Nebulous. I just kind of make it up as I go along, really! Aww, I'm sorry that you guys didn't get to it! Did you end up getting to them, or nah? I hope you did, it sounds like a lot of fun! I think I tried myself once years ago, but I don't think it ended up going very well lol Aww, thank you! I haven't really talked to her much in Swedish, as my grasp is still very tenuous, but it's a fun little goal to work towards! I think I already said it, but I really love how similar it is to English. Language history is always so neat! I agree, Arabic is really neat! Ahh, I get that though. It can be hard keeping track of that sort of stuff sometimes! I had a friend who's mother was Russian growing up, but I couldn't ever remember what any of the words she said meant 😭 Ahh, that's fair! I guess singing really was the best bet then, huh? I hope you were able to enjoy it then, at least! I'm glad you enjoyed it! If you want, I think I might've actually recorded her performance. It was a bit ago, so I'll have to dig through my files to find it, but I can try to share it with you then if you'd like! It was very small; it was just her, a few people from her class, and some of their friends and family. Maybe like, 20 people total! It's a shame; there's so much more out there we could explore! But, such is life. At least we're doing anything at all up there, I gotta count my blessings for that! Thankfully, other space agencies seem to be picking up the slack, and there's been a bit of a shift in our own space agency as well it seems. Here's to hoping for more widespread exploration!

I get that, it's hard looking on the bright side sometimes. There's a lot of pain and suffering in our world, it's not something one can really ignore. But, there are tons of like-minded people out there! We'll get there someday!

That's a great list! I'm sorry you didn't get to see Eno though 😭 Maybe if he tours again you could catch him that time? Either way, I hope you can get to see him & all your other favorites, if possible!

Oh wow, that really is quite the mental image lol I wonder what the reason was? Was it for trading, or perhaps for a source of minerals? Either way, I'd love to see a painting of it; sounds like such a silly thing to do lol

Man, they really did just do anything when it came to it back then, huh? I guess, comparing then to now, we do stuff they might have considered silly or weird as well. Something something constant in human history lol Ahh, I gotcha. Religion can be such a personal thing, so thank you for sharing! If you don't mind me asking, what lead you to where you are today with that? Thank you for being my secret santa, I had such a great time talking with you! So sorry again for the delay with this reply, here. I really appreciate your patience! I hope you've been enjoying your 2024 so far! :)

[bakubros-boo-thang]

Summary: When you meet the little Megumi your maternal instincts kick in. He reminds you so much of the one you spend so many nights with. The fact that his adoptive father is a hot dork does make it more complicated though…

Gojo x F!reader, Toji x F!reader

Disclaimer: NSFW, Unprotected sex

Word-count: 8K

A/N: This fic was originally my plan for the 'Summer fix exchange event', but not only was it way too long, I had a lot off doubts about it. Now months later I still have all those doubts. I love the story, but even when I had someone help me with checking the grammar and pace I'm still not 100% sure about it. Also another reminder that I suck at writing smut. Still I have a obsession with kid Megumi and Gojo as a dad and I will always involve Toji, because it's... well it's Toji. I don't need a reason the involve him. I would love some feedback (I'm looking into English writing classes, since this isn't my first language), because I have so many ideas and I want to be able to execute them as I envisioned them. Thanks for reading this whole essay and I hope you can keep up with the 8K of word-vomit which is basically me living my dream ;)

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

‘’Megumi, be careful out there, please! I know that Gojo lets you climb on these things, but It would be unfortunate if something happened to you.’’ You were still confused about how you ended up in this situation. You were just a part-time teacher at his school, but when you first met the angry-looking first-grader, you could feel your maternal instincts kick in. You would join him at the playgrounds after school had finished, and when ‘Gojo sensei’ - the man that had adopted him - was late again, he would end up at your place for dinner. It was far from appropriate, but the little boy slowly took a seat in your heart, and all you wanted to do was be there for him. The only thing you knew was what Gojo had told you. He had lost his mother at an even younger age, and his father couldn’t handle raising him. It all sounded complicated, so you couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the boy. You took one look at the message that had appeared on your phone: ‘I’m later than usual today Y/n.’ It was at least nice of Gojo to text you this time.

He knew how you felt about Megumi. That’s why he trusted you with him. Gojo might’ve seemed like a pretty selfish guy - attractive, but full of himself; still, he tried everything he could to make Megumi’s life a bit better. You could see it in the way he would bring Megumi to school (always late or in a rush), make sure he had something to eat (mostly food bought from an overly expensive coffee shop on the way), and even show up at parent-teacher conferences (which have recently turned into a speed dating scene). You didn’t know much about his job, but he was often away on business trips and such, and during those times Megumi would stay at your place. Again, you did not share this with colleagues because no one would understand how much you cared about the little boy. He reminded you of someone…

The buzzing of your phone got you out of your thoughts again. ‘ I am sorry, Y/n, it’s going to be an all-nighter. Can Megumi stay with you?’ As if you would ever say no. ‘That’s fine.’ you texted back. It was Friday, so the least you could do is watch a movie with him, so he had something to tell his classmates about when the weekend was over.

However, you doubted he would even say anything to his classmates about it. Megumi didn't talk about his life much and what he did outside of school since he seemed to not have any friends, but that was not because of his classmates; he just did not care about them. When you had just met him, you were surprised he took a liking to you. He wasn’t overly affectionate or anything, but he would always ask how you were. He would often show the tricks he practiced at the playground to you. ‘’Miss L/N, look at this. Divine dog run!’’ And he would just run around and pretend to pet his imaginary pet. It might have seemed weird to others, but to you, it was just another reason to love the quiet boy. He had a lot of imagination for someone so reserved. You played along sometimes, asking him how his dogs were doing and acting surprised when he added another toad to the bunch. And in return, you ended up drawing various animals together to visualize his imagination. You knew that Megumi was clever, especially when you drew more of his ‘Shikigami's.’ He turned to you and said: ‘’I know you can’t see them, Miss L/N, but thank you for believing me.’’ He continued drawing, not noticing the tears in your eyes; you believed him; it was, after all, his imagination, his way of working through past traumas.

You got up from the swingset as you called for Megumi. ‘’Megumi, you’re going to stay with me tonight, alright?’’ He quickly jumped off the playground slide, much to your displease, and nodded his head. ‘’Which movie will we watch tonight?’’ he says. ‘’Who says tonight is movie night, huh?’’ You could see a smile forming on his face. ‘’Y/n, it’s always movie night when I stay over! Even on school nights, just earlier because I have to go to bed early.’’ He exaggerated the word early, but that couldn’t even ruin the mood. The fact that he used your first name, the smile on his face, all of it made you so glad that you have met the little boy. ‘I am so thankful for that good for nothing father of yours, so happy that Gojo stepped up and made you end up with me. I promise I will do everything in my power to make that smile last, Megumi.’ You thought to yourself.

The evening was full of more laughter than usual. After playing charades (which Mr. Imagination, of course, won), too much pizza, and a documentary Megumi had picked out, he couldn’t even deny he was tired. So when you tucked him in and saw his eyes close, you whispered: ‘’Thank you for making me laugh so much today.’’ And even when he looked asleep, his mouth still opened to whisper a response: ‘’Thank you for being there...mom.’’ Hearing those words was too much; you had to get out of the bedroom before he could see your tears. You didn’t notice Megumi’s eyes opening as you made your way out of the room. He didn’t like to see you cry, especially if it was because of him, but he couldn’t help the warm feeling in his stomach that started to spread. He often acted grumpy around you and Gojo, but he knew this feeling was what it meant to be loved and that made him fall asleep happier than ever, despite your tears.

Closing the bedroom door you noticed someone knocking on the front door: ‘’Not now’’ was all you could think. You kept wiping your face hoping the tear stains would be gone by the time you reached the front door. As you finally opened the door, a hand grabbed your throat and pushed you against the wall. Before you knew it, someone’s lips touched yours in a hungry kiss. Forcing yourself out of the person’s grip and kiss was harder than it seemed, but after struggling for a bit, you were back to receiving oxygen and couldn’t help but be annoyed.

‘’Where the hell have you been, Toji?’’ His face showed an amused smile. ‘’Huh, you missed me, haven’t you, woman? Let me make it up to you then.’’ You were still filled with emotions from Megumi calling you “mom” moments earlier, so you couldn’t help the voice crack you let out when you spoke your next words. ‘’It’s not that, it’s just... I get worried when you leave without telling me when you’re coming back, you know.’’Toji didn’t even notice the words you were saying, his eyes were focused on your lips, probably thinking about kissing them again. Only when his eyes met yours did he notice them being red. You could see his relaxed expression change, as he grabbed your sides to force you to look at him.‘’Did you cry, Y/n? Did someone hurt you?’’ You could see the scar on his face wrinkle due to his angry expression. ‘’NO, don’t worry, it’s just… one of my students accidentally called me mom, and… my maternal instincts kicked in.’’ You said as you put your hands on his chest to hold him back. Looking at him reminded you of the little boy that is laying in your bed. The way they could be so cold towards outsiders… ‘’He kinda reminds me of you. Calm and calculated.” You finished. You could see that he didn’t really like where the conversation was heading. Understandable. This was the guy you had met outside of a club, bruised and bleeding. You ended up stitching him up, and he slept with you as a thank you. Ever since that night, you had been hooking up now and then. You didn’t know much about Toji, not his last name, not his past, not where he came from, but what you knew about him was that there were only two things on his mind: Sex and Money, in no particular order.

Speaking of, seeing the way he was looking at you, the way his hands were making their way down from your sides towards your thighs, you could already tell which one of the two was on his mind right then. ‘’So, you wanna be a mommy now? I can help you take care of that. Give you one that looks like me, calm and calculated, you said?’’ And with that, he pulled you in for yet another hungry kiss. You didn’t care; this was just a hookup, just pure lust, and attraction. You had no time for love; you had other things to think about, Megumi, school, your life plans. You deserved these moments just filled with lust. Even though you knew that you were just forcing yourself to believe that. ‘’Wait!’’ You whispered as you stopped Toji from entering your bedroom. ‘’My student is sleeping in there.’’ He gave you a disappointed look, but within seconds the hunger was back on his face. ‘’You’re lucky you teach first graders; I would hate to see someone older than that in your bed.’’ You let out a chuckle as you made your way to the living room. ‘’Shut up, you’re going to wake him up!’’ As he took a seat on the couch, he responded with: ‘’You’re gonna have problems shutting up once I’m inside you. Don’t wanna wake up your little student, right?’’

Before you had the chance to respond, he pulled you on top of him into yet another kiss. As you sat on top of him, only wearing undies and a sundress, you could feel his bulge. This wasn't new to you. You knew how he looked and what he has done with you; the thoughts alone make you melt.

You started grinding against his bulge. You could hear a soft hiss escape from his mouth as you started attacking his neck with bites and kisses. you knew what he liked as well. ‘’Stop teasing me, woman! I don’t have time for this today, I’m over teasing, let's go!’’ and before you knew it, he had pulled down his jeans and boxers to his knees, ripped your underwear, and pushed his cock into your core. The moan that escaped you is loud, and you are lucky that Toji has covered your mouth with his hand. You could see his smirk as he watched you lose control. ‘’Make yourself moan like that again.’’ And you did as he said. At that moment, you took a page out of Toji’s book. And he liked seeing you like that: selfish. Seeing you rub your clit while riding his cock. Switching the pace to a torturing-slow one and pinning his arm behind him; which gives you an amazing view. Seeing him pinned beneath you, with pleading eyes and curses leaving his mouth. ‘’You make me go feral, Y/n.’’ And that’s what did it. That’s what made you switch to a much faster pace; the need to make him go feral. The moment you let go of his hands, they’re already smacking your ass, and before you knew it, he had been holding your ass as he pounded into you with even more speed. The soft moans changed into fast panting of you both and your eyes locked while the pounding continued. ‘’I want you to be selfish and cum all over my cock, Y/n, right now!’’ And that is all you needed. The small selfish part of you has won, and you collapsed on top of him while he kept pounding into you. You could feel his nails leave scratches on your back and your ass. And as you took another look at this mysterious man, you noticed that he was not even speaking in full sentences anymore. ‘’You don’t know… what… you’re… doing… to me… aargh.’’ And with that, you felt his cum painting your walls white. The two of you were still panting when you looked into his eyes again, your face flustered due to what you had just finished doing. You gave him a small smile and couldn’t help the tiny ‘’wow.’’ that escaped you. He made you get off his lap and onto the couch as he stood up and faced you. “Let me clean you up real’ quick.” He got on his knees and before you know it his mouth was attacking your core... The after-waves were intense. You were still riding your high. Your body was exhausted, but the after waves of your climax kept hitting you, thanks to his hard work. As he finished, he got back to his seat on the couch and made you lay against his shoulder as he pulled his pants up.

You were still shivering against him, and you could see he enjoyed seeing you like this. Your dress had been ripped, you realized as you felt his fingers make figures on your shoulder. It felt pleasant. It made something tingle inside of you. It made you think about the small window; The small window of having actual feelings for the mystery beside you. You had this feeling before; Toji was always more vulnerable right after good sex. ‘’You know I didn’t mean the whole ‘ I will make you a mommy’ thing, right, Y/n?’’ You let out a chuckle. ‘’Don’t worry about it, Toji, I know, and I am on birth control.’’ He looked relieved, but you still saw some mischief in his eyes as he said: ‘’I can’t deny that hearing you talk about your maternal instincts does something to me; I would lie if I said that I didn’t fuck you with at least a bit of that intention in mind….’’ You could feel not only your core but also your heart flutter while hearing those words. ‘’Just go to sleep….’’. And you tried. You tried to fight the urge to fall asleep next to him. All for just an extra minute of small talk. Still, you could feel your eyes closing as his fingers caressed your shoulders. Touching you so gently might have given you the wrong impression. Toji knew this, but that didn’t stop him. He liked seeing you like this. He liked knowing that you would worry about him when he left all of the sudden because that was what happened every time. The moment he noticed your steady breath, he slid away from the couch, making sure you didn’t wake up. He didn’t look back. Toji only had two things on his mind: Sex and money. He got his share of the first, now it was time for the second.

You woke up to a hard knock on the door. Your ripped dress and messy hair were probably a dead giveaway, you realized as you opened it. There he was. Gojo, nice sunglasses, nice button-up, and tight pants. You were lucky you were still a mess thanks to Toji; otherwise, you would’ve felt intimidated by the way he looked.

“Did you hook up with someone last night?’’ You felt yourself getting flustered as you let him enter your Apartment. This was the first time he has entered your home... ‘’To be honest, it isn’t any of your business, but yes. Don’t worry, it’s not some stranger, and I made sure Megumi wasn’t aware of it at all.” You started explaining frantically. You could see Gojo smirk. ‘’Don’t worry, It’s none of my business as long as Megumi doesn't notice it... How was it? Wait! You look roughed up, so it must’ve been good?’’ He was already manspread on your couch, and you didn’t know what to make of it. You and Gojo didn’t talk much outside of all things Megumi related. You chose to just ignore his questions. ‘’We can wake up Megumi with some breakfast if you’re into that?’’ He was already in your fridge. ‘’Okay, I make the breakfast; you wake up, Mr. grumpy pants.’’ You couldn’t even be mad at him for being rude enough to use your house as his own. His giddy energy was contagious.

Breakfast was served 10 minutes later, and while the three of you were enjoying your scrambled eggs and toast (which were pretty good), Gojo asked Megumi about what he wanted to do today. ‘’I don’t care for anything, Gojo Sensei.’’ He responded. It might have seemed like he was pretty grumpy, but both of you knew that he was content with the time he got to spend with you two. ‘’Meg, you and Gojo could visit that old theater downtown; you wanted to see that documentary about the wolves, right?’’ You added to the conversation. “Yeah, I guess, but… I would like it if you could join us.” And with that, your day had turned into another Megumi-filled day, and you didn’t mind it at all. Another plus side was that you didn’t have to think about Toji; even though you acted like it was just sex, it was clear you cared about him a lot, and he cared about nothing. After a quick shower and a dress that made you look like the sun ( according to Megumi), you guys headed to the old theatre. You had never spent much time with Gojo, but you could feel he was trying to make the best of today, probably to make up for him not showing up the previous day. You were sitting between Gojo and Megumi as the assigned “Snack carrier,” according to Gojo. The snacks were the best part of the whole trip. The documentary was as tedious as you would’ve expected, especially after hearing Megumi talk about his Divine Dogs for months; this was nothing in comparison. Gojo was feeling the same way; as, before you knew it, he was leaning towards your ear. “Can you wake me up when this ends?” You could see his blue eyes beneath his glasses. Who the hell wears glasses in a theater, though… “HEY,” you whispered back, “That was my idea, don’t steal it, I’m more tired than you are you know.” He chuckled. “I doubt it, even with that little situation you had going on yesterday, your poor couch must’ve been the only exhausted thing.” You could feel the embarrassment pulling through your body as he said those words. “First of all how would you even know we used the couch, secondly it’s none of your business, and third you can see that I look like a zombie in a banana suit.” He was still smiling about your little rant, but his face looked more serious when he responded. “You look cute y/n, don’t act like that.” Then he pretended to yawn as he stretched his arm in an embrace over your shoulder and moved his face closer to your ear once more. “Just lean on me and get your rest. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to seduce you to leave Mr. Couch Destroyer.” And even with the doubts in your mind, you couldn’t help your body which was already leaning into his shoulder. As your eyes started to close, you could’ve sworn he whispered: “Couches and cursed energy… interesting.”

You woke up to Gojo pinching your cheek. “Was I comfy enough Y/n?” You could feel yourself getting shy. He was attractive, no denying that. But the fact that he had seen you asleep, probably with some drool dripping out of your mouth, made things awkward. “How’s Megumi?” You asked as you turned around, seeing that he was sound asleep as well. “When he saw that you were asleep, he took it upon himself to finish all the snacks so now he’s tired with a stomach ache; The little boy is going to bed the moment we get home. Speaking of, you should join us; I will fix up some dinner as a thank you.” You wanted to politely decline, but seeing Megumi, who was feeling uncomfortable, was what made you change your mind. “Alright, I will join you guys, but I won’t stay for too long; I have tests to grade.” You decided not to share that the first-grade tests would take you only 30 minutes to grade. ‘’You sure about not staying overnight? My couch is way more comfortable than yours.’’ You could hear him chuckle, but behind his glasses, the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

The walk to his home was already taking 30 minutes. ‘’Don’t you have a car, Gojo?’’ It was getting colder and darker with the minute. Gojo readjusted Megumi, who was on his back still sound asleep. You couldn’t deny that the three of you would probably come across as a little family, and that thought didn’t upset you either. ‘’I enjoy walking, flying, or just appearing out of thin air; I’m fast. You’re the reason this took us so long.’’ He responded as he opened the door to a small apartment. it looked small, but it clearly was an upper-class apartment in the middle of the city. ‘’I see where Megumi got his imagination from, don’t worry, I’ve heard all about your antics,’’ you said as you entered the apartment after him. You could tell he didn’t spend that much time here. The interior was pretty generic, and the only thing that stood out was the cozy couch. You could feel yourself getting flustered thinking about the comment he had made about his couch earlier. When you pulled your eyes from the couch, you noticed that Gojo was signing you to follow him. As you entered the room, you saw how dark it was. The walls were painted an Indigo color. Small led light hung on the ceilings, giving the room a warm orange glow, and the walls were filled with drawings. A lot of drawings. 99% were drawings the two of you had made together; A few unknown drawings stood out to you. There was one of two eyes that almost glowed in a weird ocean blue way, probably Gojo. Another one was of a stick figure that must’ve been Megumi sitting with two dogs surrounded by weird blobs of different colors. Still, the one that stood out the most was the one right above his bed. You could see he had drawn it with someone, someone who was obviously more talented than you were. There you and Megumi were, obviously drawing something together. and far to the left was Gojo; obviously, the stick figure Gojo was Megumi’s job. Gojo was wearing a dark blue dress and some blindfolds, which made the drawing 10 times more endearing. ‘’I love this….’’ You whispered to yourself. You could feel Gojo standing behind you. ‘’Yeah, the little guy forced me to put every drawing on his wall, said something about ‘’Art needs to be on walls, Y/n told me.” He even forced me to make some of that so-called art. As you can see, I am as talented as ever.’’ You rolled your eyes at him as you checked up on Megumi one last time. He was about to fall asleep. Something told you to give him a small kiss on his forehead. And as you did, you could feel Gojo staring at you. As you made your way to the living room, you couldn’t help but settle on the couch, knowing this would end up in another set of jokes.

It took another 15 minutes for Gojo to get out of Megumi’s room. Your mind started racing with numerous thoughts. You couldn’t help it; you were curious. Was there a little routine the two of them had at night? Would he tell Megumi stories about his trip, maybe make up crazy scenarios with the Divine dogs or him flying, something to feed Megumi’s imagination even more? Because you were so lost in thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Gojo sitting right next to you. ‘’So about that dinner, here you go….’’ He said as he handed you a bowl with instant ramen. ‘’Megumi told me you liked this flavor.’’ So they had been talking for 15 minutes. ‘’How does he feel?’’ You replied. ‘’Like shit. but he’s happy you’re here, you know’’ Of course, that warmed up your heart and made every bit of awkwardness you felt worth it. ‘’This ramen is delicious!’’ You couldn’t help the sounds of delight you made. ‘’Of course, it is; I made it.’’ You were slightly annoyed but more so intrigued by the figure standing right before you. ‘’You know Gojo, you’re pretty contradicting. You act all cocky and selfish, but you’re a twenty-something-year-old that took in a young child. Even when I wanna be annoyed, I can only respect you. Megumi is lucky to have you.’’ Gojo was staring at you and even with his sunglasses on, you could feel the intensity of his stare. ‘’ I am aware that I might not seem like a good parent, but I know how it is to have a shitty family; even when I’m gone a lot, I know that me being an annoying adult in his life is better than nothing. That’s why I am so thankful for you, Y/n; you didn’t have to care so much about him, you know. Why do you love him so much?’’ It was a loaded question. one you didn’t have an answer for. ‘’You know I tend to blame it on the way Megumi reminds me of someone I care about.’’ Gojo couldn’t help but arch his brow when he asked: ‘’The couch dude, huh?’’ You avoided his gaze. ‘’Yes, but that’s not even it. They might look a little similar, but that has nothing to do with my feelings for Megumi. I just remember that the first time I saw him, he took a liking to me. It just clicked, you know. I saw him, he introduced himself, and I asked what he liked to do, and he shared that he liked to draw, and I instantly liked him, and over time it just kept growing until it reached a point that I ached for it. It’s quite embarrassing, me acting as a parent.’’ You could see him moving closer as he spoke: ‘’I remember meeting Megumi for the first time. I was talking to his good-for-nothing father. I saw Megumi, and I just knew what great potential he had, and outside of that, he is a great kid, just a little grumpy.’’ At that, the both of you shared a good laugh. Gojo offered you a glass of much-needed water, and as you sipped from it, you could not help, but notice the way his smile was more sincere now. The two of you had never shared so much with each other before. ‘’I was 18 when I met him. I might be a selfish asshole, but I’ve always had a lot of responsibilities, so adding him was a pleasant surprise. And now I love the kid. couldn’t picture this without him. We’re more alike than you would think, huh, Y/n?’’ You didn’t want to respond; loving Megumi was something that connected the two of you and nothing more, but your mouth was about to respond either way. It was Gojo that had stopped your mouth from moving. Or more so the fact that he had removed his glasses and was staring at you with his eyes. Megumi had been right to draw his eyes like that. They were so beautiful it scared you. It felt like he could see everything you thought, everything you had done, and everything you would do. ‘’You lost your tongue, huh? It’s not the first time that happened.’’ He said as his hand grabbed your chin and lifted your face to make sure you locked eyes with him. The sincere smile was already replaced by his usual cocky smirk. ‘’Don’t be shy; you’re gorgeous, you know. It’s not even that; it’s just how you act with Meg. listening to his little stories, not even doubting them. Loving him, going out of your way for him. Liking the

fact that he’s more grumpy and cold than being cheerful 24/7, and yes, he can be cheerful in his way. Even with that, you keep up. He can’t stop talking about you; I learned everything there is to know about you through him, and I would lie if I said I wasn’t excited to hang out with the two of you today. Even with that so-called friend of yours crashing on your couch.’’ You knew you had to stop him. You were still conflicted about your feelings towards Toji. You knew if he was up for it, you would’ve confessed already, but Toji was selfish, and so was this man right in front of you. ‘’I know you’re conflicted about that guy. I can’t even promise I’m better than him. Okay, I am definitely better in certain aspects.’’ He let out with a chuckle. ‘’ But I have a busy life, outside of Megumi too. I can’t fully commit, probably never will, and I like to keep private matters private. Still, I like what we did today, just the three of us, I like you, and I like doing this. ‘’As he said it, he brushed his thumb over your lower lip. It felt nice, and you couldn’t help but make a fool out of yourself with the first words that slipped your mouth: ‘’ Your eyes are pretty. Pretty and scary, Gojo .’’ And even in the grip of his hand and with him looking at you with those gorgeous orbs, you couldn’t help smiling. And that was all it took. ‘’You can call me Satoru, you know.’’ and then he pulled your lips on his. The kiss was soft and sweet. No tongue, not even passion, just a sweet feeling that made your stomach flutter, and even you knew that it was far more dangerous than a passion-filled kiss. For a moment, there was no Toji, and even Megumi was somewhere far in the back of your mind. All there was, was Gojo, or rather Satoru, as you would call him from now on. The kiss had probably taken only a few seconds. But you could feel something click, and that was all it took.

You went in for another one, and this time around, it was a little more intense. You couldn’t help yourself. He was intoxicating, and everything just felt right. ‘’You want to take this to the bedroom, or you’d rather test out the couch here too?’’ He asked between kisses. ‘’Shut up, Satoru. Just show me your room.’’ Before you knew it, he was already carrying you to his room. ‘’This sounds cheesy, but it feels like I’m floating.’’ You giggled. ‘’Maybe you are…’’ was all he said when he laid you on his bed. You were surprised when he ended on top of you, his eyes full of affection. Something you did not expect from him. ‘’You know I still meant what I said about not being able to commit, but I am selfish, and I need to be honest as well; I’ve liked you ever since I first picked the kid up from the playgrounds at school.’’ Your thoughts were all over the place as he gave you another kiss on the cheek. ‘’I like your smile.’’ another kiss on the neck. ‘’I like the way you talk about the kid.’’ A kiss on the shoulder. ‘’I like the way you say my name.’’ a kiss on your lower arm. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. ‘’And I like the way you roll your eyes at me.’’ As he finished with a kiss in the palm of your hand. ‘’I’m not sorry that you will lack time grading your tests, Y/n. I will take all my time with you.’’ You could feel your legs turn to mush, and you knew it would be minutes before your brain would follow. ‘’ Fuck those tests….’’You whispered. Another intense gaze from Satoru and a ‘’Yes fuck them.’’ was all it took for him to attack your lips again. this time around, things were getting even more intense. You could feel his knee between your thighs, and when things got almost too much to bear, he suddenly stopped. ‘’Do you want to continue this?’.’ And he looked so innocent, so sweet, so considerate and not selfish while he said it that you just put your arms around him and hugged him. Only after you finished, you realized how weird that might’ve looked. ‘’Errr... I’m sorry, that was weir…’’’ ‘’Adorable you mean.’’ He gave you a soft smile. ‘’Does that mean you want to continue, though?’’ When he saw you nod, his smile turned mischievous. Before you knew it, he had moved away from your body to grab something next to his bed. ‘’What are you doing, Satoru?’’ But by the time you have finished your words, he was already on top of you. The only way you noticed was his eyes. In the dark, his eyes were the only light in the room, the blue - deep as ever - reminded you of the sea. Blue, but almost see-through. Looking into them felt just the same as diving into the sea, not knowing how deep the water is.. ‘’Don’t panic.’’ he whispered as he put something over your eyes. Tying the material behind your head, you asked: ‘’Is this the blindfold you use on all your bed partners?’’ You wanted to sound sarcastic, but you couldn’t help the small crack in your voice as you said the words. This is casual, don’t let this end up like with Toji. And there it was, you had thought about him. What was he doing? When would he show up again? ‘’It’s my blindfold, it’s pretty important to me, I only ever used it on myself, until now….’’ And with that, Satoru was once again the only thing on your mind. ‘’Where are you?’’ you whispered as you couldn’t feel nor see him. ‘’I am everywhere, Love.’’ Not only were your legs unable to move, but he was also indeed everywhere. You didn’t know where he would touch you; first, you stretched your hands to search for him; you were aching for his touch at this point. You could hear a small chuckle further away from you than you expected, and then, as if he was on top of you the whole time, you felt his soft lips on yours. His tongue made its way into your mouth, and you could feel that you were not the only person that was aching for this. As he moved his lips from yours, he made his way down towards your neck, slowly kissing every bit of skin that was showing. ‘’You hated this dress, right? No more looking like a banana for you.’’ He laughed as he ripped the dress. You were only in a bra and

underwear. Even when everything felt good, this was still someone new for you.This guy didn’t know your body, didn’t know you. This might not have been the time to feel so, but you could suddenly feel all your insecurities swarming around in your mind. especially since you couldn’t see anything in these blindfolds. ‘’You look so beautiful, Y/n. The best indeed get the best.’’ it was all it took to let your insecure thoughts go, even when he was still a cocky asshole. ‘’I guess they do’’ was all you said back. His mouth was once again kissing every part of your body while he made his way to your core. Once he reached your inner thighs, he started marking the places his lips found. ‘’Let’s take this off; we’ve waited long enough. I wanna taste you, Love.’’ You helped him remove your underwear by wiggling your legs. ‘’aching to get out of them, ain’t you?’’ and before you could respond, you felt his lips on your core. He started with soft kisses, and before you could get used to the nice feeling, he got into it. ‘’You taste so delicious; let me taste more.’’ he was feasting on you. if it wasn’t so good, you would be embarrassed, but even if the thought came up, it would be replaced by delight within a second. ‘’Satoru, I want more.’’ And when he saw the way your body trembled, the craving for more, he knew he needed to do more. His fingers moved between your folds, collecting the wetness that was the result of his hunger. ‘’Get on all fours, Love.’’ He said. It’s not that you couldn’t move per se, but your legs felt like jello, and your brain was turned into mush. Not only that, you were wearing blindfolds, for God’s sake, the only thing you could do was giggle, and even though you couldn't see his face, you could hear the smile through his next words: ‘’Unable to move, huh? fine, I’ll do it myself.’’ and with that, he turned you around on all four and pulled your head down. Your ass ended up in the air, your face in the pillow - carefully placed before you - and the only thing that told you Gojo was still here was the sound of his pants falling on the ground. Suddenly his hand was on your hips. The touch gave you goosebumps. ‘’Please, stop teasing Satoru.’’ You moaned out. You could hear him laugh, and suddenly his hand was on your blindfold. “Is he gonna take it off?’’ You think to yourself, but all he did was yank on the knot of the blindfold, pulling you towards his lap. ‘’I love the view of your head in the sheets and your ass in the air, but I want you close to me, Love.’’ As he said it, you felt his cock entering you the moment you reached his lap. It’s a perfect fit, you sitting on his lap while he was on his knees. The sounds you made are all he needed to hear. The two of you moved slowly but in sync. You felt his hand brush over the scars left on your back. ‘’My markings may not be that visible, but that doesn’t change a thing.’ he said as he placed soft kisses on all the scars on your back. And he was right because the kisses wouldn’t be visible to anyone else. Still, they would be a memory forever stuck in your mind. You feel one of his hands slowly move to your boobs. ‘’You pick the pace, Y/n,’’ He whispered in your ear. You started slowly moving up to a faster pace. You could feel his breath stagger in your ear as he held you close to him. You were still wearing the blindfold, but it was so hot not being able to see. Using every sense except for your vision. It’s as if you were living in a fantasy. His other hand found your clit, and as he made little figures on it, you could feel yourself getting closer to that point. ‘’Satoru, plea...ease...keep going, I’m gonna cum….’’ You let out. And you could hear him grunt. He was bucking his hips into you, making sure you would reach your high. And the moment you thought it would finally reach, he stopped, and it felt like he snatched a prize out of your hand. ‘’Not so fast, Love; I wanna look at you while I make you cum.’’ He tried to sound confident, but you could hear the need to continue in his voice. As he laid you on your back, you couldn’t help but pout, but

then he took the blindfolds off, and you saw his eyes. Those beautiful blue orbs were full of lust and love, and all you wanted from him was just to finally put his weight on you. And so he did, because for the first time that evening, you felt his weight on top of you, and it was heavier than you had thought, but oh so comforting. His cock slid in between your wet folds, and the two of you just kept staring at each other as he slowly moved in and out of you. The room was filled with long and slow moans, and even though there weren’t any words, even though the only sounds there were moans, you know that this was what it meant to make love. Of course, the hunger for more started soon, and as you clung your legs onto him, he started to pound into you harder and faster than before. It felt so good, almost too good, too much, you couldn’t help yourself. You needed to close your eyes. ‘’Don’t you dare close your eyes Y/n I wanna see you cum all over me. I want you to see me fill up that pretty cunt of yours. Show me your gorgeous eyes” Hearing someone who had the most beautiful eyes in the world call your eyes gorgeous was an amazing compliment. Seeing those beautiful eyes roll back because of how you felt is yet another compliment. Feeling his dick hit that one spot was too much, and with all those compliments, all those things that hit the right spot, you couldn’t help yourself, and you tightened your hold on him as you came ‘’Uuugh...Y/n you’re so tight. I want you to take all of me.’’ And seeing him lose all composure as he painted your walls white with thick spurts of cum, made your legs shake. He dropped all his weight onto you, and for a moment, that was all you wanted. Seeing this selfish, arrogant man lose himself to you feels amazing. And after you both finished riding your high, he ended up next to you. You couldn’t help close your eyes for a moment while Gojo drew figures on your shoulders as you held onto him. “You know, good luck with that so-called boyfriend of yours,” Satoru said with a smirk. “First of all, we’re not dating and same to you with all the women and men that enter your room at night…” you could see the shock on his face. “Megumi told you that?” You couldn’t help it; you let out a big chuckle. “Nope, you just exposed yourself….” You could see a sad smile on his face, but it was gone within a second ‘’You need to pee y/n’’ And you know he said it as a way to change the subject, but also because you had to do it. And you knew he was right, but you didn’t want to get out of the bed, which was very comfy at this point. So you did the most rational thing that comes to mind: pulling all the blankets to yourself and wrapping yourself up like a burrito. ‘’Try and get me out of here, Toru .’’ You whispered, and before you knew it, he was already carrying you and the blankets towards what you assumed was his bathroom.

As he set you down in his bathroom, he got in the shower and closed the screen after him. ‘’I like that nickname; keep calling me that. Now pee and come join me in the shower.’’ The shower turned on, and you could only see his silhouette. You were still wrapped inside of the blankets. The guy has seen you naked. Yes, he ate you out, and you had sex, but that was inside of the comfort of a dimly lit room. Your insecurities kept pouring inside of your head. After a few minutes, you noticed that you actually had to pee, and knowing that he couldn’t hear you through the Streaming water is what made you decide to lose the blankets and just pee. As you finish, the nerves return, but the memory of the look he was giving you once you took that blindfold off was all enough to rid them of your mind. As you entered the shower, you noticed it was smaller than you expected, and you were forced into Satoru’s arms right away. ‘’Took you long enough, I only gave you one glass of water y/n!’’ He laughed. You wanted to avoid his gaze, but you didn’t want to look at his body, so you just kinda focused on his hair which was longer than you had expected. ‘’I was just kinda nervous, I guess.’’ You whispered. His hand was on your chin before you knew it, and he once again forced you to look into his eyes. You were even more shocked by how blue they were even in normal light. ‘’There is nothing to be nervous about, Love. I’ve seen your body, I know your body, and I love your body.’’ And then his lips gave you a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Let’s get cleaned up now,’’ he said as he used a cloth to rub the soap in your skin.

After the shower, you were forced to borrow a sweater and sweatpants from Gojo. They probably weren't even his, because the clothes didn’t fit his usual attire. His eyes were on you the moment you walked into the living room. He was studying the way the clothes hugged your body. After what seemed a few minutes of thoroughly taking in the view his eyes reached yours. It took 2 seconds for you to be overwhelmed by his gaze once again and as you quickly took a look at the clock to avoid the so-said gaze, you came to realize that it’s almost 1 AM. At that moment, you made a decision. You walked towards to couch where Satoru was lying pretty comfortably and said: ‘’I think I’m going home.’’ He looked slightly disappointed by hearing that, but he quickly switched to his confident self: ‘’You sure? I still have a couch, and we all know you love using those.’’ He smirked. You couldn’t help but laugh. ‘’I’m sure; I just don’t want Megumi to be confused by all of this. ‘’ You gestured to him and yourself. ‘’What’s this?’’ He asked, his eyebrow raised. ‘’I don’t know, Satoru…’ you let out while rolling your eyes. ‘’I thought it was Turo now…’’ he pouted as he continued ‘’ But are you confused by all of this?’’ And you guys had been so honest all evening that you didn’t want to end it with a lie. ‘’Yes’’ was all you whispered and as he made his way off the couch to walk you to the door his only response was: ‘’Good.’’ You gave him a small kiss on the cheek and started to walk away. Seeing you walk away was nothing new for Gojo. He had seen countless hook-ups walking away after a night of fun with him. But you were different. Yes, the sex had been great, but what stood out most was the way you hugged him after he asked for your consent. Not only that, but you cared about Megumi. You cared about someone important to him. You made both of them laugh and you stayed, even after he told you about the reason why you would not work out together. He didn’t even know what ‘this’ meant, he just knew that he didn’t want ‘this’ to be with that guy that seemed surrounded by cursed energy. His mouth opened up before his pride could stop him. ‘’Y/N, WAIT!’’ he yelled, and you couldn’t help but stop. ‘’What?’’ You said. He was already trying to get back inside, but he turned around one more time, a small smile on his face as he said: ‘’I’m confused too.’’ and that’s when his door closed. You couldn’t help but hum while you walked home. That tiny smile on Satoru’s face looked hopeful. It made you feel happy and that was the emotion you would focus on for now. Happiness.

[scuttling]

Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

[dracowars]

LOVED YOUR TOM RIDDLE. Can I please request a arranged marriage au where yn is in love with him but he hates her so when she decides to let him go or someone else wants to marry her, Tom finally realises he’s in love with her. happ ending :))))

my heart belongs to you | tom riddle

pairing: tom x black!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where tom and y/n are in an arranged marriage

a/n: i'm so sorry for being so inactive recently, uni is taking its toll on me.. i had to do a bit of research for this one and also tom is a pureblood here!

warnings: toxic relationship, violence

universe: harry potter

“Get out of my sight, will you?”, he angrily snaps at you out of nowhere, for the third time already on this still very early day. Furiously, he stomps past you, pushing you to the side harshly, the filled glasses on your tray swaying dangerously. Knowing that you should just leave him alone, you stand there completely frozen at the door, still feeling the breeze on your skin after he stormed past you.

The glasses clink on the serving tray as you try to keep your trembling hands under control, but you terribly fail while tears shoot into your eyes. A lump forms in your throat and you gasp in desperation, losing your composure after hearing the front door slam shut.

Slowly, you slump down and therefore with a loud rattle let happen what could have been foreseen already: a thousand shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor around you while you cower against the wall, your elegant dress pulled over your knees, your forehead leaning against it. Heavy sobs rock through your body and tears find their way down your cheeks, dripping from your chin onto the expensive fabric of your dress.

You just wanted to spend some time with him. Together, in the house of your parents, who went on a daily trip with their close friends early in the morning, all part of the most notorious popular pureblood families in the wizarding world – the Nott’s, the Macmillan’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestrange’s. And if his parents were still alive, probably with the Riddle’s as well.

This is primarily the reason why you even are in this position right now; crying and huddled in the living room because your fiancé hates you profoundly.

After graduating from Hogwarts last year, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you, descendant of the pureblood Black family, got engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last living heir of the Riddle’s. He would offer you a good future, they said, and you would never have to worry about anything again.

But nobody knows that in reality, your own beloved fiancé really does not want to have anything to do with you. He does not even want to stay in the same room as you.

You can’t explain why he acts like this towards you. You do not know why he harbors such an abysmal hatred for you and any clear-headed, rational person would have done something about it long ago. Unfortunately for you, you feel the exact opposite for him.

Your heart belongs to him and only to him.

You have liked him since you first met him at Hogwarts, back in 1938, when the two of you were sorted into the Slytherin house. This initial friendly liking has quickly evolved into something more than that over the years and lead you to where you are now, at a point where you would have never seen yourself back then.

You have already tried everything to convince him that you are not as bad as he seems to think. Every morning you bring him his breakfast, you give him everything he needs. Even when you were still at Hogwarts, you always looked after him, finished his homework for him when he was too busy to do it by himself, and helped him pass all of his exams.

And not once did you hear a thank you. Not then and not now either.

Slowly gathering your thoughts together again, you rub the long sleeves of your velvet dress over your damp face, wiping away all of your tears before you get up on shaky legs and begin to clean up the mess that you have created. After you went back to the kitchen with the broken pieces and some injuries on your hands, your gaze longingly slides out the window.

Outside, the sun stands high over the magnificent garden of the mansion, making the clear water in the fountain shimmer in its bright light. A gentle breeze blows through the air and rustles through the perfectly cut trees that line a small path through the garden.

The loud, excited voices that suddenly roar through the house snap you out of your daydream and you quickly wipe the blood from your fingers before you step into the huge marble entrance hall. You arrive at the front door just in time to open it for your parents, who, to your surprise, did not come back alone. You are amazed to find not too familiar faces in front of you as they climb up the stairs to the door where you are still standing.

“And that has to be Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!”, an older man smiles friendly at you and you return his smile with a certain uncertainty in your face.

“Darling, we brought guests over for dinner today. You surely remember the Lestranges?”, your father announces happily and only now do the faces that you have seen at numerous balls and celebrations seem familiar again. Especially one.

“Reinhard?”, you ask in amazement when you spot him standing behind his parents, a big smile on his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, how nice to see you again”, he grins, carefully pushing his way past your parents in order to slightly bow venerably to you, taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. “It has been some time.”

“I am sure you have a lot to tell each other”, your mother mentions in a sweet voice, but before she can continue, she watches how your facial expression changes from one second to the other as you look past them, out into the yard.

Next to the carriage with which they have returned, Tom is standing now, petting one of the splendid noble white horses before he joins all of you.

“Tom! There you are, I was already wondering where you went”, your father says, visibly pleased when he too spotted his future son-in-law, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Reinhard?”

“Tom?”

Within a few seconds, the two former best friends lay in each other’s arms, obviously happy to finally see the other again.

“Let us go inside. We want to show you our newest masterpiece of art in our wonderful collection, come on”, your mother announces happily and leads the Lestranges inside, but not without turning around to you once more. “The children can catch up on what they have missed.”

“I can’t believe it! You are really here, Tom. Man, you look even better than at Hogwarts”, Reinhard laughs, playfully pushing Tom to the side while you watch them in silence. “What are you doing here with the Blacks?”

“They kindly took me in”, Tom lies to him and for a moment you think he threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes after uttering these words. His statement makes Reinhard realize that you were still there with them, who had apparently completely forgotten that you were even there.

“I am so happy to see you again, Y/N!”, he grins and takes a step closer to you, probably to be able to take a closer look at you. “Still just as beautiful as I imagined. And just as smart, I guess?”

Reinhard’s sudden compliments make you blush and your cheeks glow, which is why you nervously avert your gaze from him, directly falling on Tom, who looks at the scene in front of him with incredible resentment.

Unlike Tom, Reinhard was always there for you. You spent a lot of time together in your school days and if your parents had known about your close friendship, you are sure that he would have been your fiancé by now. Which, to be honest, does not sound bad anymore right now.

And yet your heart still belongs to Tom.

When you all sit together at dinner later in the evening, where your parents are talking about irrelevant things like Ministry of Magic, you keep making eye contact with Reinhard, who seems to be staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask uncertainly and put your glass back on the table when you can no longer bear his piercing gaze.

“No, no, not at all. I was just wondering how a beautiful witch like you could have become so much more stunning”, Reinhard winks at you, causing you to swallow hard. You are not used to getting compliments, especially not from a handsome young man like him. Before you can answer to him, however, there is a loud clink and you startle, your eyes immediately fixed on the cause of the noise.

The glass, which you have certainly placed far away from the edge, is now lying in your lap, the little liquid that was still inside now spread over your elegant evening gown. You move your chair back in shock when, in the corner of your eye, you see how Tom puts away his wand. And not only did you notice Tom just now, but the rest of them follow your gaze.

“Tom, darling, how about you tell our guests how you and our daughter got to know each other”, your mother suddenly prompts him, not even realizing that he has just deliberately spilled your drink on you. But why did he in the first place?

„I would love to“, Tom puts on a really believable smile that no one but you questions and starts telling them how you met and fell in love with each other. He tells one lie after another, explaining the web of lies that you have spun around you over time to make your relationship as credible as possible, at least in front of other people. And suddenly nobody cares about you or your still soaking wet dress anymore.

“What a wonderful story”, Mrs. Lestrange applauds and everyone else seems to be completely enthusiastic about Tom’s fairytale. To top it off, he then reaches across the table to take your hand in his, just like a real affectionate couple would do.

You lower your gaze as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, trying your best to not show how uncomfortable you are. Oh, how much you wish that this were real, that Tom would actually treat you like this when you are alone, the same way as he does in front of your parents.

But he does not and deep down you know that he will never do.

“So, you are engaged?”, Reinhard scrutinizes the statement of his former best friend, his eyes focused on you suspiciously, as if he is expecting an answer from you and not from Tom. A slight pressure on your hand makes you flinch and look up.

“Y-Yes”, you force a smile onto your lips, whereupon Tom seems satisfied with your answer, letting go of your hand again with a - what seemed to you like a – disgusted expression on his face.

An uncomfortable silence spreads between the three of you, which is drowned out by the loud conversation of the adults on the other side of the table. Finally, making up your mind, you clear your throat loudly and get up from your chair, gaining everyone’s attention in a matter of seconds.

“Excuse me, I have to go freshen up for a moment”, you explain with a slight polite bow before turning away to leave the dining room.

“Reinhard, would you be so kind and help Y/N”, Mr. Lestrange asks his son, who stands up with furrowed brows, apparently just as surprised about this sudden request as you, but then follows you out into the hallway with no further objection.

“I really do not need any help, thank you”, you try to get rid of him as you walk up the large staircase leading to the first floor together, only wanting to be alone.

“Dinner like these are totally boring anyway”, he chuckles softly and shows no intentions of leaving your side any time soon, which is why you do not even try to search for further arguments. He follows you to your room where you are able to tear yourself away from him to put on a new dress while he waits outside in front of the door.

With an equally elegant burgundy red dress you step out of your room after a few minutes, Reinhard’s eyes greeting you with a sparkle.

“Wow”, he breathes out barely audible and takes you hand without asking to swirl you around, causing your dress to fly around gorgeously. Unintentionally, warmth rises in your face again and your hearts makes a barely noticeable jump inside your chest when he looks deep into your eyes after catching you back in his arms.

The loud clearing of a throat behind you makes you turn around in shock, only to see that Tom himself is now standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming very enthusiastic.

“We did not see you there, Tom”, Reinhard disguises his obvious nervousness with a laugh, acting like Tom had just caught you in doing something he should not have seen. Tom, however, does not even react to his words, but looks past Reinhard at you, his eyebrows raised meaningfully.

But when you do not move under his piercing gaze, his facial expression changes and he quickly approaches you, Reinhard instinctively pushing you behind him so that you can only see Tom approaching further over his shoulder. Before neither you nor Reinhard can say or do anything, Tom has already pulled out his wand and aims it directly at Reinhard, who flies back through the air only a few seconds later, hitting the hard marble floor at the end of the corridor with a thud.

“What the-?!”

“Come with me”, Tom orders, now standing directly in front of you. When you stubbornly refuse, he suddenly grabs your wrist to pull you away from there. No matter how much you fight against his firm grip, you cannot tear yourself away from him as he pulls you into the closest room, which turns out to be the library.

Once there, you can finally free yourself from his tight grip, but before you can reach for the doorknob to leave immediately, he locks the door with a spell. Angrily, you turn to him, despair written all over your stunning face.

“What is this supposed to be, Tom? Let me out of here, now!”, you command him in a loud voice, not caring if anybody can hear.

“What did he want from you?”, he asks you urgently and steps closer to you. Since the door is in your back, every possible escape route is blocked, and you are caught.

“We just talked to each other, you know. Like normal people do”, you answer irritably and cross your arms in front of your chest, not in the mood to justify yourself, especially not in front of someone who does not care about you at all and not after what he has done.

“But that did not look like it.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You belong to me and nobody else!”

These words coming out of his mouth echo loudly through the dark library, his face wrapped in an eerie candlelight. Before you can even control yourself and fully process what he said, you severely slap him.

Frightened by your own horrible deed, you immediately pull your hand away, your gaze filled with fear, but the anger that keeps building up inside of you winning the upper hand after all.

“How dare you call me your property?!”, you scream in rage and tears form in your eyes because of your uncontrollable anger. However, Tom needs a moment to collect his thoughts after your heavy smack before he can answer you.

“You are my fiancé”, he spits out coldly, a touch of shock in his voice, apparently not expecting you to react like this.

“And that does not make me nowhere near your property! You never treat me like your fiancé anyway, so why now all of a sudden?!”, you bicker at him, your voice loud and constant, even though you would like to flee from this situation right away if you were able to.

But Tom does not have an answer.

“Fine, okay. If you have nothing to say to me, like you never have, then I will go back now and ask my parents to end this damn failed engagement and engage me with someone else who truly cares for me!”

Suddenly, without letting you time to catch your breath after your outburst, he presses you with your back against the door completely, his hands tightly grabbing your wrists, a little too tight for your personal liking.

“You mustn’t do that”, he softly whispers, his head lowered as if he does not dare to look you in the eyes.

“What is stopping me?”, you hiss, still full of anger and – probably for the very first time – hatred towards him.

But when you feel his lips on yours all of a sudden, all of these emotions evaporate and all that remains is your racing heartbeat, which is being repaired at this very moment. You never would have thought that at some point in your life the moment would come when Tom Marvolo Riddle, who absolutely loathes his fiancé, kisses you.

After kissing you, he looks straight into your eyes, and the Tom you met in 1938 is standing in front of you again. The Tom you fell so deeply in love with.

“I can’t explain it to you”, he finally breaks the silence, his gaze directed to the floor as he moves away from you, giving you enough space to breathe regularly again. You, however, do not say anything but just stare at him.

“I was not aware that I am capable of feeling such feelings for someone. I am unfamiliar with this feeling and I did not know how to deal with it, Y/N. I treated you badly because I did not want it to be true, I did not want to accept it. I could not imagine having feelings for the little nuisance that has always been running after me”, Tom explains, choosing each and every single word very carefully, trying to put his emotions into words which does not really work the way he would like it to. But that is how you know him. You know that this confession must be extremely difficult for him, but you can’t help but feel a sense of relief inside of you.

“When?”, you ask and manage, with this tiny little word, to make him look up at you. “When did you know?”

“Since I have been here. You served me every day and took care of me, even though I wanted to push you away from me with all of my might. You have already helped me so many times in the past without me even asking, you have always accepted me for who I am”, he desperately tries to but his feelings into words, asking himself what he is even doing right now.

“Tom..”

“No, I have to sincerely apologize to you. I had no right to treat you the way I did. And also today.. when I saw you with him and how well you got along, it finally became clear to me. Reinhard has felt something for you since our school days, I know that even though I could never understand, but now I do. I understand why he fell in love with you”, Tom continues without breathing, pouring out all of his feelings that he has hidden for so long.

“I understand if you want to dissolve this engagement and I will not stop you if that is what you want”, he quickly adds, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. He already prepares himself for the worst when you are the one getting closer to him this time.

“Idiot”, you smile slightly and place a gentle kiss on his lips while he looks at you puzzled. “I love you, I thought you knew that.”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing”, you interrupt him and take his hand to lead it to your fast pounding heart. “It always belonged to you.”

[spicysoftsweet]

A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn​‘s Hanahaki collab! 

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?” 

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment. 

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?” 

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected. 

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured. 

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other. 

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye. 

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you. 

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic. 

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly. 

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right. 

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss. 

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent. 

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail. 

It couldn’t be. Not you. 

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building. 

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly. 

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you. 

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up. 

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other. 

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection? 

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any. 

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you. 

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || ‘trashcan’ boyfriend

request: HELLO!! Hope ur having a wonderful day!!! i really love ur writing! i've been rereading it everyday to get my daily serotonin💕. So Is it okay if i request a hc of megumi being a boyfriend trash can, like his s/o can't finish an apple and megumi just eat it without even saying anything when they hand it to him. and he got teased cuz he did it in front of the other student or satoru.

note: honestly, this idea is super cute cx the idea of megumi having a huge appetite is honestly so canon for me lol. and i can definitely see this happening; and i bet you half the time he doesn’t even know that it’s half eaten since he’ll be busy doing something like going on his phone or smth like that lmao. aaaaa, i love him so much >< 

pronouns: them/they

if there is one thing that you have an issue with, it would be the fact that you cannot seem to finish whatever it is that is on your plate

whether it is noodles, rice, or even fries - you can never seem to finish any of the regular portions that is served in restaurants

ordering from the kids menu will not work since you’d get hungry after awhile, yet ordering normal portion meals makes it hard for you to finish your meal 

this is where your beloved boyfriend megumi always comes in handy 

there is no denying that both him and yuji have massive, and i mean massive appetites - you have seen yuji eating 2 big macs and 2 large fries in one sitting before, and still had space for ice cream either

and even though your boyfriend is not that extreme, he still manage to eat a big mac and an extra cheese burger after your most recent mission with him 

because of this, you tend to sneak your food to your boyfriend’s plate; or megumi will just nudge you and asked if you wanted to continue eating whatever it is on your plate when he notice you started to pick at your food

the reason he does this is one, so gojo does not have any reason to tease the absolute shit out of you; since he loves to find any sort of reason to poke fun at his students. 

and two, nowadays stores charge for takeaway boxes to reduce the waste from one time use plastics, and who honestly wants to pay extra for leftovers?

so he always eats the leftover food on your plate without hesitation; this happened even before you two became a couple. it was just something he always does whenever you two are out together

surprisingly enough, no one has actually caught you two doing this before - they just sort of assume that you were like everyone else, maybe eating smaller portions than average, but you still finish most of the food on your plate

think the first person who really catches you doing your little routine would be nobara - because let’s be honest here. who can really hide a secret from nobara for long?

she first noticed your little ‘routine’ with megumi after you three had completed your mission at megumi’s old school - where nobara had demanded and whined for express sushi 

and since akari knew that if she does not feed your group, you’re going to be whining all the way back to campus about the hunger; so she brought you to the sushi place that you four went to with gojo after meeting nobara for the first time 

because of yuji and huge ass stomach, he obviously ordered a huge quantity of food. so it is a given that everyone is supposed to help out with finishing the rest of the sushi 

soon the food arrived, and soon everyone started to tuck into the food - all of you definitely in higher spirits with everything that had happened as you started to destroy the food before you

you were doing pretty well, having ordered some ramen with a side of tempura, and had managed to finish about a quarter of the bowl of ramen before you gently nudge megumi, giving him your puppy eyes once he turns away from his plate of food 

he just finishes his bite of sashimi before he wordlessly took your bowl to eat the noodles, to which you perked up before you lean over to kiss the corner of his lips, causing him to blush as he continues to eat your food

whilst you two were in your own bubble, you two had no idea that nobara was watching the entire thing. but instead of teasing them, she actually finds the entire thing super cute, so she just smiles softly into her bowl of food as she turned away from you two

the next time it happened in front of people, was unfortunately when you all were chilling in the rec room after a long day of classes

you were curled up against your boyfriend’s chest, scrolling through your phone with your back to his chest whilst he had one of his books held in one hand, reading over it quietly

gojo, who had decided to join the four of you, was scrolling through his phone, soft music playing from the Bluetooth speaker on the table as nobara and yuji played some random game on their switch

you were nibbling on an apple whilst scrolling through your phone, and had taken another bite from the apple when you made a soft face at the feeling of suddenly being too full to take another bite

so without missing a beat you shifted before you gently held up the apple to your boyfriend expectedly; who didn’t take his eyes away from his book as he wordlessly took the apple and took a bite from it 

unfortunately for you two gojo had looked up just in time to see megumi casually grabbing your half eaten apple and finishing it without another comment, his crystalline blue eyes blinking behind his sunglasses before he grins and pushes himself up from his lounging position

“i didn’t know you two were that close, megumi-chan~”

megumi, as if suddenly remembering the others in the room, freezes in shock as his face heats up immediately, his horrified eyes snapping away from his book to face his grinning teacher’s gaze

without missing a beat megumi hurled the apple core at gojo, who just laughs at how red his student’s face is as he buried his burning face into the side of your neck whilst the apple core hovered before gojo before it fell onto the ground

you just giggle and put your phone down, reaching back to gently run your fingers through megumi’s hair whilst you gave your sensei an amused look, not even surprised that he was going to make fun of your boyfriend

“leave him alone - he offer to eat my food because i can never finish it.” you tried to reason, to which gojo just gasps before he sat up a little, his eyes clearly widening in clear delight at the new information.

“you’re telling me this happens often?!”

it got to the point where nobara had tossed a pillow at her teacher for being too loud, scowling over at him in annoyance over her switch console while berating him for making such a big deal over something so small 

“honestly you make it sound like fushiguro into some kinky shit. it’s food - i make yuji eat my food when i can’t finish it.” 

before gojo can make some cheeky response, megumi had enough and summoned his rabbits, sending them to smother their teacher on the couch with a scowl

you just rolled your eyes fondly, ignoring gojo’s loud cries for help underneath the heap of shikigami rabbits as you turn in your boyfriend’s arms; resting on your front against his chest as he gave you an embarrassed look

“don’t mind him - you’re still my cute boyfriend.” you just giggled and tossed your arms around his neck, him dropping his book onto the couch before he wrapped his arms around you tightly as you pepper his red faces in kisses

and you can’t help but find him so cute as you smother him in love, non of you really rushing to help your sensei underneath megumi’s mountain of rabbits

he’ll survive - he is the strongest sorcerer, as he loves to claim after all

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[finelinevogue]

Hello! For the continued part of the blurb in which Harry and YN get casted together; this is the reminder :))

Also here’s a thought about it:

Maybe since like Harry met Olivia on DWD, when Tangled started they're like broken up and so so to make it more realistic (It was more of a suggestion but just do you, your readers would love it either way) :))

Have a great day!!!

yes we will definitely continue this!! okay let’s go;

First day nerves were always the worst.

Whether it was first day of school, first day of a new job, first day at university or, in your case, first day on set, you always got a really bad case of the nervous butterflies. It was just unnerving having to meet new people and try and fit into the way everything worked around here. You were a very social person when you came out of your shell, but you could be a hard one to crack if you weren’t with the right people. Luckily for you this set definitely had the right people. After briefly meeting him on the red carpet for Don’t Worry Darling and then having him text you afterwards, you have to say that now working with Harry Styles seemed like a dream. His music and his charisma shaped him into someone you really liked and really wanted to know more about. He was your all time crush and unfortunately, for you, he’d probably gathered that by now - what with your blushing interview over him.

The weather was beautiful and the buzz on set was amazing. Everyone was rushing around and trying to busy themselves until filming started at 8am. You had just been in hair and makeup and were on your way to set now. The movie wasn’t being filmed in its’ complete order, so the first scene that you were filming was where Flynn climbs up the tower and meets Rapunzel for the first time. Where Harry meets you.

You couldn’t quite believe you were actually here. You were a Disney princess, and your favourite one at that. The purple dress was everything you’d imagined and you felt like a dreamy cloud in it. Your flip flops and robe covered most of your outfit though, to keep you warm until you were needed on set. Instead of going straight inside the filming building, you sat outside on a nearby bench hoping to calm your nerves.

To keep your mind preoccupied you went over and over your lines in your head, cursing yourself when you messed up over something so small. Your fingers picked away at each other, damaging the nail-art that had only recently been put on.

“You’re going to cost the makeup department a fortune if you keep doing that.” You didn’t need to look up to know that it was Harry who was approaching you, but you did anyways. He looked beautiful. His hair was styled the same way as Flynn Ryders and you could see the outlines of his costume underneath the coat he was wearing.

“Oh, sorry.” You laughed nervously, putting your head back down to stop him from catching your blush.

“Hey no need for apologises. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He spoke honestly and you felt the warmth of his words spread over your body, like butter on toast.

“Just really nervous.” You admitted shyly.

“Can I…” He pointed towards the bench space next to you.

“‘Course, yes.” You patted the space encouragingly and watched him pull the trousers up from his thighs to sit more comfortably. God, those thighs. You cleared your throat to detach the dirty thoughts from the back of your mind.

It was quiet until he spoke again. “What’s your favourite Disney movie?”

“What?” You asked confused and Harry repeated the question as calmly as he did last time. You expected him to start giving you words of advice, not asking you your favourite Disney movie. “Oh, um, Tangled of course.”

“You know you don’t just have to say that because you’re the lead actress in the movie.” He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh as you swayed away and then back to him.

“Yeah I know.”

“Pity.”

“Why?”

“Just would’ve taken you for more of an avid Lion King fan.” He joked, his dimpled smile boasting its’ way onto his cheeky face.

“I am, actually. I just, there’s something about Rapunzel that draws me to her. I don’t know whether it’s her childhood was similar to mine—”

“Wait you were abducted by a weirdly attractive evil woman who claims to be your— wait! So you’re a princess?” Before you can answer he knelt down before you, capturing your hands in his - neither of your missing the tingles of passion when your skin touched skin - and holding them tightly, whilst he began speaking again, “M’lady, forgive me for being so simple.”

“Harry! What are you doing, y’fool?” You laughed at him, trying to get him to sit back next to you as you’d drawn the attention from a few crew members.

“I’m grovelling at the feet of my future Queen.” He said so matter-of-factly you almost, nearly, truly believed him. Chuffing actor.

“Get up you oaf!” And he did with a little more persuasion. “What I meant was that my childhood was quite isolated and lonely - I didn’t have many friends at all.” You spoke from the heart, not expecting Harry’s eyebrows to furrow with confusion or for him to look so sad.

“I’m sorry.” You knew he meant it.

“At least I have Flo, though, now.” You smiled at the thought of your amazing best friend, whom also happened to be Harry’s most recent co-star. Their performances in Don’t Worry Darling were second to none and you were so proud of Flo for delivering such an awe inspiring delivery to her character Alice.

“And me. Don’t forget me.”

“I could never.” You turned to look at him, unprepared to find him staring back at you with hearts in his eyes. You blushed and had to look away, but you rested the side of your head on his shoulder out of natural instinct. It felt right and it felt comforting. “Thank you, though Harry.”

“Always.” He rested his head back against yours, both of you just watching the busy people prepare for your first scene. The nerves had gone though, now, and you were feeling more at peace with yourself - and with him. “Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I think that you’re drawn to Rapunzel, because she embodies your courage, kindness, beauty and compassion.” Your heart swelled at his words. You never thought someone could think of you this way, let alone Harry. You pushed your head tighter against his shoulder, wanting him to wordlessly know that you were really grateful for him.

“Smooth, Harry!” He laughed with you, “How long have you been rehearsing that?”

“Too many other lines to remember to be learning them ones too. That, Y/N, was all ad-lib.” And your heart swooned a little more again. He was just so perfect and he made you feel safe. There wasn’t a good enough phrase or word in the English dictionary to justify how good of a person he was or how much he meant to you.

“You’re too good.”

“Too good to maybe ask you out for a drink after today?” You brought your head away from his shoulder in shock from what he just asked. Harry, the Harry Styles, was asking you, Y/N L/N, out for a drink. What?

“No, I think i’ll let you take me out for a drink.” You smiled at him, admiration sitting heavily in your eyes that there was no way he could miss it.

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted back at yours.

“Only if you stop with the compliments, i’m so bad for accepting them.”

“Hmm, no can do.” You rolled your eyes and reached over to take his hand in yours and he instantly linked his fingers with yours. It felt right. Warm. Safe.

“Fine, but don’t be alarmed if I just jump you for being too nice to me or something.” Your words came out faster than your brain could process and your eyes widened once you realised what you’d just said to him. You’d just threatened to jump Harry Styles. Fuck sake. And now he wad laughing, at you or with you you didn’t know.

“Alright, but you don’t be alarmed if I do nothing to stop you.”

Now you understood why he didn’t need to ask what was wrong or if you were okay, his presence was comforting enough to make your nerves dissipate and focus on the only thing that now mattered; him.

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 1 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fic

Here is chapter one of my new fanfic!

Title: Succession

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OCs

Rating: PG-13 for language and intense scenes (for now, this is a slow burn, but it will get very hot and spicy in later chapters)

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova that you didn’t know existed has died and you are his sole beneficiary.  You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The music blasted from the car speakers as you drove down the main road towards the highway.  You had your phone plugged into your car stereo, your favorite Spotify playlist on shuffle.  Despite the A/C being on full blast, beads of sweat formed at your brow and rolled down your temple.  You adjusted the vents on either side of you, making sure the cold air directly hit your body.  The song that was playing had you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, your head bopping to the beat.

The fridge at home was close to empty and it was beyond time for you to go grocery shopping.  The grocery list was secure in your purse and you were determined to stick to the items on the list and not make any frivolous purchases.  Money was tight and you only had so much money left before payday next week.

The song shut off suddenly followed by your ringtone.  Looking at the screen of your phone, UNKNOWN stared back at you. Probably a spam call, you thought to yourself, reaching to press the red Ignore button.  Unfortunately, your finger slid at the last minute and mistakenly tapped the Accept button. You watched as the call came through and the seconds ticked off.  FUCK!

“Hello?” you greeted with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

“Hello, am I speaking with Miss Y/N?” a heavily accented male voice responded.

“Yeah, this is she,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.  You tried your best to avoid these calls, ignoring them and letting them go straight to voicemail.  Very rarely was it followed with an actual message, which was more than fine with you.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Ron M. Dathermi.  I am a lawyer residing in Chisinau, Moldova in Eastern Europe…”

You raised your eyebrows at that.  Moldova?  Who the hell was calling you from Moldova?  Chalking it up to a scam, you were about to interrupt the man when he continued.

“...I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.  Your great uncle, Serghei Popa, has passed away from a short illness and has named you his sole beneficiary…”

You couldn’t help the amused huff that came out of your mouth.  This must be some very elaborate scam.

“Umm...sorry, but I think you have the wrong person.  I don’t have family from Moldova and I have never heard of this man in my whole life.” You were about to hit the End button when Mr. Dathermi continued.

“Am I speaking with Y/N, born on (your birthday) to (your father and mother’s full names) and the granddaughter of (your grandfather and grandmother on both sides of your family)?”

Your eyes widened at that.  “Yeah, that’s me…” you answered.

“I know this may sound unusual, but Mr. Popa was the brother of your grandmother on your mother’s side.  He was given up for adoption at birth and taken in by a Moldovan family.  He did not have a spouse and had no children, and according to the genealogy report I have before me, your grandmother and your mother are both deceased.  Your mother was an only child, yes?  It appears to me that you are the last of his living relatives.”

You pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot.  The information you were being given was a lot to handle.  You didn’t have that large of a family.  You were an only child and raised by your parents and both sets of grandparents.  Both of your grandfathers had died before you turned 10.  Both grandmothers died within 5 years of each other and your father and mother died of illnesses, cancer and pneumonia respectively, in the last year.  Grief was a feeling that you knew better than anyone.  You kept to yourself mostly and you didn’t have any close friends or a significant other.

“Listen,” you began, “you are correct about all of your information, but how do I know this is not some kind of scam?”

The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and the sound of shuffling papers met your ears.  “I can imagine that this information is sudden and unusual.  What I will do is send a copy of his will and a copy of the genealogy papers to your address.  I encourage you to take this to your lawyer and have them look over the information.  The reason I am calling is because I need you to fly to Moldova, sign these papers, and accept the monetary inheritance that he has left you.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked down at your phone.  Fly to Moldova?  Is this true?  The only thing you knew about the country was that a foreign exchange student from high school was born and raised in Moldova.  That about sums up your knowledge of the country. This seemed incredibly asinine and ridiculous.  But the word that settled in your train of thought was “inheritance.” What inheritance?

“Mr...what was your name again?” you asked.

“Mr. Dathermi, but you can call me Ron,” the lawyer responded.

“Ron...umm, how much monetary inheritance are we talking about?”

More shuffling of papers was on the other side of the phone, Ron clicking his tongue as he looked through the information.  “He has left you 53,806,746 Moldovan Leu...which translates to $3,000,000 in American currency.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” you exclaimed before clamping your lips shut.  You heard Ron chuckle.  “I’m sorry, pardon my language. It’s just...wow...this sounds insane…”

“I can imagine it does,” Ron replied, “which is why I want to mail this information to you and have your attorney take a look at it so you know this is a legitimate will and testament.  If you would like, I can mail the information straight to your attorney if you are still leery.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you said, shaking your head.  Your mind was whirling.  None of this sounded remotely true.  You felt as if you were dreaming.  This felt like something that only happened in books and fairy tales...a girl who had nothing and nobody suddenly inheriting millions of dollars from an unknown distant relative.  What are the odds of something like this happening in real life?  You gave Ron Dathermi your home address.

“Thank you very much, Miss Y/N.  I will send this as soon as possible.  I’ll also include my business card so your attorney can contact me and we can iron out the details.  Thank you very much, Y/N...I’ll be in touch.”

You thanked him as well and ended the call.  All alone in your car in the empty parking lot, you let out an excited squeal and started hopping up and down.

*

You adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across your shoulder as you heard the overhead speaker call for the boarding of your flight.  Taking a deep breath, you got in line, extended your ticket to the airport employee, and walked down the tarmac and into the plane.

Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.  Your hands gripped your bag tightly as the flight attendant looked at your boarding pass and pointed down the aisle to where you were to be seated.  You had never flown before and your nerves were on alert.  Scenes from Final Destination flashed in your head as you walked down the aisle towards your seat.  Taking a deep breath and willing your body to relax, you located your seat next to the window and sat down, plopping your bag onto your lap.  

The small window was close to the wing of the plane and looking beyond that was a long expanse of grass that met a vast forest.  You were thankful that you had the window seat and your headphones so you could tune everything out and relax in your own little world.

Once the papers from Mr. Dathermi arrived a week prior, you immediately called the attorney that helped you with the probate and will from your parents’ deaths several months back.  He was more than happy to help, knowing that you were all alone in the world after your parents had passed.  Two days later, he called to inform you that all of the paperwork was, in fact, legitimate and that Mr. Serghei Popa was the brother of your grandmother.  He showed you the adoption papers, confirming that your great uncle had been put up for adoption and the family that took him in had relocated to Moldova when he was two years old.  He had remained in the country until his death.  Your attorney contacted Mr. Dathermi, who in turn secured a round trip plane ticket in order for you to come to Moldova to finalize the paperwork and collect the inheritance.

At the thought of the money you were about to acquire, another surge of excitement flowed through you.  Your parents hadn’t left you much after their death and you worked at a dead-end job that had no room for advancement and no possibility for raises.  All of these recent events sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

“This is your captain speaking,” the voice sounded from the speaker above your head, “we will be departing in the next ten minutes.  Please make sure your seatbelts are secured, your tray tables are up, and all electronics are off until we are at the appropriate cruising altitude.  I will inform everyone as soon as the coast is clear.  Thank you for flying with us and enjoy the ride.”

You fastened your seatbelt and laid your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be nervous…” a voice sounded next to you.  You opened your eyes and looked over to see an older gentleman with wide rimmed glasses and a nice smile.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, returning his smile.

“It’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled, “my name is Bruce Williams.  I’m the air marshal on board this flight.” You told him your name and shook his hand. “Just relax,” he assured, “we’ll be flying for the next 10 hours.  There are lots of movies and tv shows to watch on the screen in front of you, or you can listen to your music and read a book if you brought one.”

You patted your messenger bag.  “Yeah, I have a few books to choose from.  Thanks,” you smiled.

Within minutes, the plane had backed away from the tarmac, turned towards the long expanse of runway, and increased speed before leaving the ground and soaring up into the clouds.

*

The steady hum of the plane’s engines provided a relaxed soundtrack as you slept.  It was close to early morning, according to the clock on the tv screen, but your watch was still on your regular time zone.  It read early afternoon and that threw you through a loop.  You had heard that jet lag could be a bitch and you wondered how bad yours would be once you landed.  Bruce had passed you a pillow and blanket once you were ready to sleep and he assured you that your bag and belongings would be safe while you slept.

You were so thankful to be seated next to him.  Not only was he the air marshal, but he was a really cool person as well.  You two talked about movies and actually watched a couple of them on the tv screen in front of you.  Bruce was kind and nice to talk to.  The crinkle of crow’s feet around his eyes, his laugh, and his hair color mixed with hints of gray reminded you of your father...maybe that’s why you liked him so much.

You shifted in your seat and let out a soft yawn.  Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you wondered how much longer it would be until you touched down in Moldova.

“You weren’t asleep that long,” Bruce murmured.  You looked over to see a book in his hand and his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep,” you replied, standing from your seat.  Bruce stood up and allowed you out into the aisle.  You made your way to the bathroom towards the back of the plane.  The cabin was dark with little lights dotting either side of the aisle on the floor. Soft lights were shining here and there from people reading, watching the tv screen, or messing with their phones while most of the passengers were asleep.

Once in the bathroom, you did your business, flushed the toilet, and began washing your hands.  The mirror in front of you showed a tired and weary version of yourself.  Some of your eye makeup was smudged.  You told yourself once  you returned back to your seat, you’d retrieve the makeup remover wipes in your bag and do away with the dirt and oil.

Just then the plane hit an air pocket and dropped several feet, throwing  you forward towards the sink and mirror.  You let out a shriek as the plane quieted and went still.  “God dammit,” you muttered, putting your hand over your heart, “that scared the shit out of me!”

Once out of the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and walked back to your seat.  You tapped Bruce on the shoulder and he moved aside.

You lifted the window shade and looked outside.  Natural light from the start of the day began to show.  The plane was amongst the clouds so it was fairly cloudy and hard to see.

“How much farther do we have?” you asked Bruce.  He shifted the book to his left hand and looked down at his wristwatch.  “We should be there in three hours.  I think we are flying over Romania right now…”

You nodded your head and thanked him, turning back to the window.  The clouds gave way momentarily and provided the opportunity to see the ground below.  Tall, snowy mountains came into view.  You smiled and marveled at their beauty, wondering what mountain range this was.  You cursed yourself for forgetting the basics from your World Geography class in high school.  Hell, all you knew about Romania was that it was the setting for Dracula and the real life territory that was once owned by Elizabeth Bathory, who allegedly killed upwards of 650 maidens and bathed in their blood.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself.  You really did enjoy some morbid and fucked up stories.

Your train of thought stopped short when a large and spacious castle came into view.  Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.  It looked like something out of a Disney movie or from ancient castles that still sat throughout Europe.  The place looked like it stood on several acres of land and who knows how many square feet.  What a gorgeous and breathtaking place it was.  You wondered just what was inside a monstrosity like that and who was lucky enough to inhabit such a place.  Maybe there were castles in Moldova that you could explore and visit while you’re conducting your business.

The castle fell out of view and not far from it stood what looked like a village.  You were too high up to see any people or any traces of lights or torches.  You took everything in with total awe and appreciation.  It looked like a small and sleepy storybook town.

A sudden movement close to the village caught your attention.  You squinted your eyes and tried to look closer, pressing your forehead to the window.  What the fuck is that, you wondered.  It looked like a black tree, naked of leaves or any type of growth...and it was moving.  It looked to be swaying in the breeze, but the size of it looked way too sturdy for any kind of gust to move it with such fluidity.  As you focused on the tree, it appeared to be growing...getting closer to the plane.  Was the plane descending?  Were you getting closer to Moldova?

One of the branches of the tree slowly drifted to the ground before extending long and rigid, slinging itself up into the air like a bullwhip, hitting the wing of the plane.  The plane suddenly tilted as the slithering limb wrapped around the wing and broke it off.  You let out a loud scream as the plane turned on its side, Bruce falling against you, squishing you to the wall.  “WHAT THE FUCK??” Bruce screamed as yelps, shrieks, and screams echoed in the cabin of the plane.  Dozens of people were knocked from their seats, flight attendants falling into the aisle and rolling towards the cockpit.  The plane shook and quaked as it dropped several feet in a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” you screamed, grabbing hold of Bruce’s arm.  The air masks dropped from overhead and Bruce grabbed yours, making quick work of putting it over your face.  “HOLD ON TO IT! HOLD IT OVER YOUR MOUTH, Y/N!!” he commanded, reaching for his own mask.

“THE WING OF THE PLANE HAS BEEN DAMAGED!” the pilot yelled from over the speakers, “WE ARE LOSING ALTITUDE! BRACE FOR IMPACT!”  People screamed and panicked, holding on to whatever it was they could.  Panic surged through your body as your fingers dug into Bruce’s arm.  The plane shook as it fell.  Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were seconds from impact.  You looked out the window one last time before the ground came into view and everything went black.

*

He leaned over the body on the metal table in the lab of his factory.  He fastened the bolts with a wrench and tested the strength of the metal against the rotting flesh.  A soft horn sounded in the distance along with the various turns of chains and clangs of steel against steel.  He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked to his desk, looking over the blueprints and sketches he had devised the previous day.

Despite the different array of sounds, nothing could mask the loud crash that sounded off in the distance.  He lifted his head, silently trying to figure out what the fuck made that noise.  Leaving the body laying on the table, he exited his lab and made his way down the stairs and to the factory doors.  

With a grunt, he slid the doors aside and looked off into the distance.  Black smoke billowed from an area that looked to be close to the village.  Other than the crows squawking and flapping their wings in retreat, everything was dead quiet.  He looked off to the right just in time to see the long, spindly limbs of mold retreating back towards the earth.  Karl Heisenberg’s face tightened in a disgusted grimace.

“Mother Miranda...what have you done?”