#he chose to carry all the blame

[lucy-moderatz]

She's just, you know, she's shiny hair, style section…Vera Wang. And I'm the sex column they run next to ads for penile implants.

[abelllia]

Re-reading the MAG 160 transcript and I want to bite Elias’ head off so bad

[raven-dor]

me and my husband

In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader

WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

AN: I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times. 

Instead, he sat in his office. 

She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncle’s absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.

But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband. 

“Gwayne?” He looked up, smiling brightly. 

“My love! You should be in bed.” He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.

“I am not inept.” 

“I know, darling.” He knelt in front of her, kissing her hand gently. “But you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.” He caressed her stomach, whispering. “And how is our little one?” 

“You have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.”

“And you?” He kissed her hand once more. “How do you fare?”

She was taken aback by that question, avoiding the question. “Do not worry about me.” 

“That is my job as your husband.” He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. “And Maesters are not always correct.” 

“That is a rather skeptical view.” She grabbed the handles of the chair, pushing herself up. Gwayne glared. 

“Please ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.” 

“Shall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?” She glared back. “I love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.”

“You are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.” 

Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. ‘Future heir,’ ‘Hightower name,’ ‘a boy.’ All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and she lost all humor in her tone. “As I am constantly reminded.” 

He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. “All I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.” 

“I am careful.” She glared. “You know this. It’s not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.” 

He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “I do not mean to upset you-” 

“Well, you have.” She scoffed. “You have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.” 

“You know that was not my intention.” He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. “I am sorry.” 

She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. “Yes, well, I suppose I forgive you.” 

He grinned. “I am glad of it.” 

The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragging behind her. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying. There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in, and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.

“Y/N? Where are you?” 

Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been ‘allowed’ to go on this excursion. He’d only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. “Coming, my love.” 

The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Where did you run off to?” 

“The clearing.” She traced shapes on his chest. “I was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is a perfect day for it.” 

“I-” 

“My lord.” Their guard’s voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husband’s chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. “Another time, I swear to you.” She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. “You look far too melancholy, my love.” 

“Well, perhaps if-” 

“My lord, I’m sorry, but it is most urgent.” 

Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. “What is it?”

The Maester’s Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded. But those questions never came. 

“My lady.” 

Y/N smiled, nodding. “Maester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.” She held her stomach. “Tell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?” 

“Unfortunately, yes, my lady.” He sat down. “It seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.” Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. “A breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.” He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do you understand what this means, my lady?” 

She nodded, standing up quickly. “I do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.”

She gave one last look at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties. 

Who was she to worry him anymore?

Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. “How was your day, my love?” 

“Infinitely better, now that you are here.” He smiled. “How was the visit?” 

She took a large sip of her wine. “Well. All is well.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.” 

He grinned, squeezing back. “I love you much more, my dear.” 

If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled. She laughed, her eyes watering. “I do not think that is possible.” 

Since learning of the news, she’d been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment. 

The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, she’d be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the same ceiling. 

It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didn’t have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free. 

He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how he’d carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe. 

She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; he’d always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently. 

 Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Grabbing her robe from the wardrobe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance. 

After learning of the news, she had picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous. 

In a way, it had. 

The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate. 

“My lord.” Y/N looked up to see her husband stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. “Good morning, my love.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it a good morning?” 

“Quite.” She tilted her head. “Why? Is something amiss?” 

He nodded, crossing his arms. “I awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.” 

She had felt horrible leaving him, and fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe. “I am sorry if I scared you.” 

“You should be. And another-” He stopped, shock adorning his features. “You are sorry?” 

“I should have woken you. It was my mistake.” She pat the chair next to her. “Please, join me.” 

“I’m afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.” 

Her heart clenched. “I can join you if you’d like-” 

“It is not necessary. I will only bore you.” 

She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. “You have never bored me.” 

“You are kind, but I’m sorry, I cannot be distracted.” He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.

She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. “I did not realize I was such a distraction."

"Y/N...."

"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” 

She stood, her eyes cold. “I know nothing of the sort.” She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. “Please move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-” 

Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. “Do not move her things.”  

“My lady?” The young girl looked frightened, scared that she was caught in the middle of their argument. 

Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. “It is alright.” She walked away, yelling back at her husband. “I shall do it myself.” 

“Y/N!” Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. “Come back here at once.” 

She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. “Let me-” 

She flinched, pushing him back. “Don’t.” 

He mumbled. “You may hate me all you want after this.” 

“After what-” He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. “Gwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!” 

The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically jumped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. “Will you please just-” 

“I will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.” Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face. 

That had been three days ago. They’d seen each other in the halls and at meals, but other than that, Y/N steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, he’d been in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so she’d heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castle’s gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family. 

The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, rubbing her bump gently. “It is quite peaceful here, is it not?” 

A kick. 

Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. “Please, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, don’t worry. Your father’s a good man; he’ll raise you well.” 

No kick. 

She laughed. “Do not ignore your mother. It’s quite disrespectful.” 

A kick. 

“I miss him too, my love.” 

A voice broke through the silence. “Miss who exactly?” 

Y/N jumped, standing in the water. “My lord, I did not expect you-” 

“I was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.” His face looked conflicted, but she didn’t want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole ‘conversation,’ so she remained silent. “Is there something you wish to tell me?” 

So he had heard. She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “I do not know what you are referring to, my lord.” 

“Stop.” Gwayne sighed. “You haven’t called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Please come out of the lake.” 

She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. “Here.” Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?” 

“I would have figured it out, thank you very much.” She glared, pulling the frock over her head. “Do you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?” 

“I canceled them.” He laughed, stepping forward. “After I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.” 

“How wise of you.” Y/N crossed her arms. 

“Shall we go to bed?” 

“I am not tired.” She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. “Have a restful night, my lord.” 

She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldn’t have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself. 

A knock rang out. “May I come in?” 

She tensed. “If you must.” She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, she thought she would start crying. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” 

“I have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. “Ask it then.” 

“Do you still love me?”

Her heart stopped. “I-” 

Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. “If you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.” 

She turned around in his arms, placing her arms on his chest. “I do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.” She smiled. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.” 

“Ah.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it that troubles you so?” 

“I do not know what you-” 

“I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. “What ales you, my love?” 

“I am simply nervous.” She to be out of his arms. The longer she stayed in his embrace, the more compelled she felt to tell him. “It is nothing, I swear to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. “Please do not lie to me.”

“That night I visited the Maester, he told me something.” He nodded. “He said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.” Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke. 

“That’s not all, is it?” 

She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-” a sob wrecked her body. “But I want to live. Please.” 

Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? “Whatever are you talking about?” 

“I know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-” She hiccuped. “I thought it would make your choice easier.” 

“What choice, darling?” 

She whispered. “Between me and the babe.” 

“Why would I-” It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? “Oh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to stress you any further.” She hugged herself. “Please, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-” She shivered. “Just don’t cut me. I beg you.” 

He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Listen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.” He kissed the back of her hands once more. “Irreplaceable. You must know this.” 

“Gwayne, no one is truly irreplaceable.” 

He stood, his eyes dark. “Do not say such things again. Swear it to me.” 

“I-” 

“Swear it, Y/N.” 

“I swear.” She whispered, cheeks red. “I swear to you.” 

He nodded, smiling lightly. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For coddling you.” He stepped closer, caressing her bump. “I am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

“I am sorry as well.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.” 

“I do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.” He leaned down, their foreheads touching. “There would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.” 

“You have been doing perfectly fine as of late.” She winced. "I truly am sorry.” 

“No more of that.” He whispered, staring at her lips. “May we please go to bed?” 

She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. “Sleep, my love.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I will be here when you wake, I promise.” 

[serpentandlily]

Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader

Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel had been your closest friend, made from the very same things as you—birds of a feather, as they say. But you were not the girl he chose to fall in love with. So all you could do was love your mate in the shadows until the day you died.  

Warnings: angst angst angst

A/n: Inspired by Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish, but this is a more sad interpretation of the song. Hope you enjoy! (Epilogue HERE)

• ───────────────── •

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave

'Til I rot away, dead and buried

'Til I'm in the casket you carry

• ───────────────── •

A flick of golden brown hair caught your eye as Elain tossed her head back with her lilting laughter. So soft. So beautiful. So charming. You could hardly blame Azriel for being so enraptured by her. To him, she was probably the answer to all his questions, all his insecurities and doubt. To have someone like Elain look at him like that…Well, it seemed like it had healed something in him.

Unfortunately for you, it had done the opposite. It had completely destroyed you. Torn your heart into pieces. Opened new wounds and old wounds. It had shined a light on every single insecurity you felt. Because you had been praying for the day that Azriel would look at you the way he looked at her. But that day had never come and it never would.

You hadn’t been good enough for him. Hadn’t been beautiful enough to catch his attention like Mor and Elain had. Hadn’t been sweet enough to serve as a beacon of light for him. Hadn’t been soft enough to bring him comfort. 

You slipped out of the back door. No one even noticed your disappearance, all too happy in this new little family they had created with all three of the Archeron sisters. 

Tears lined your eyes as you hugged yourself, slowly walking along the Sidra towards your apartment. You had been naive to think you’d ever have a love like Feyre and Rhys or Nesta and Cassian. Azriel had been right that night you’d overheard him in the High Lord’s office.

The Cauldron had gotten it wrong. It had gotten it all so wrong.

Azriel was your mate. He was supposed to love and cherish you. Not her. But he had never looked your way once—not like that. You’d been best friends since the dawn of time, since you had entered each other’s lives. But that was all the companionship he could give you.

On nights like this, you almost wished you had told him about the mating bond when it had snapped for you. But you had hoped and prayed that he would come to love you for you and not for the mating bond. So you never spoke a word of it to anyone and maybe that had been your mistake.  

But you didn’t want a love that only existed because of the mating bond. You wanted a love that felt real and deep—with the mating bond only serving as the cherry on top. You didn’t regret not telling him. But you did regret sticking around to watch him fall in love with another girl. 

It didn’t help that Elain was the opposite of you. She was all sunshine and flowers, soft warm bread and honey. You were a creature of the night. You were the moon and its shadows, cryptic and grim. It was why you thought you and Azriel got along so well. You were made of all the same things. But he had always hated that about himself so really, it shouldn’t have been so surprising that he would look for someone who embodied the opposite. 

It hurt though, it hurt so much. 

You were his equal. You lived in the shadows as much as he did. Your soul was made from the same essence as his. You were birds of a feather. You were companions. He was the only one who understood you completely and you were the only one who saw him and loved him as he was—darkness and all. 

You were supposed to stick together through it all.

But…he hadn’t chosen you. 

You finally made it back to your apartment and hung up your coat before collapsing on your bed and letting the sobs ricochet through the utter silence of your home. 

Alone once again. 

As you always would be.

• ───────────────── •

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone

Can't change the weather, might not be forever

But if it's forever, it's even better

• ───────────────── •

All you had wanted to do today was get lost in your book and forget about your own life for a few hours. That was what you had planned, why you were even in the private library at the River House. But of course, the Mother decided to spite you once again.

Azriel sat on the armchair across from you, fiddling with Truth-teller as he ranted about Rhysand for the millionth time. He was still upset about your High Lord telling him to stay away from Elain, even though he had completely ignored those orders anyways. As far as you knew, Rhys hadn’t brought it up again. 

Your jaw was clenched as he brought up Lucien, laminating on how much Elain didn’t want him or the mating bond between them. You blinked away the tears that threatened to come. It almost felt like he was talking about the mating bond between the two of you—the one he still had no idea existed. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your stomach tossing and turning. You were so in love with the male sitting before you, so in love with your best friend. And here you were, listening to him talk about another girl the way you wished he’d talk about you. 

You cleared your throat when silence finally overtook the library, your eyes darting to the fireplace that was lacking any light—cold and dusty—the same way you felt inside. 

“Don’t you think…” you started, not looking at Azriel, not sure you wanted to say the words lingering in your throat. 

“Do I think what?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at you. 

You looked away again. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitated before continuing, “Don’t you think that Rhys might actually have a point?” 

You were still focused on the fireplace as you awaited his response with a bated breath. It was the first time you’d addressed his interest in Elain without being positive. But you just had to poke at it once—just once to make sure you were right in keeping the mating bond from him. 

“Oh Gods,” Azriel groaned. “Not you, too.”

“I’m just asking,” you said in your defense. “What if…what if in ten years Elain decides she does actually want to give Lucien a shot? The mating bond—”

“Is godsdamn stupid, is what it is,” Azriel scoffed. “She doesn’t want Lucien, Y/n. She wants me. We want each other. Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, I’m not saying that,” you grimaced, “But what if you find your mate? Would you…would you stay with Elain?” 

“Of course I would,” Azriel answered without missing a beat, digging that dagger into your heart a little more. “I don’t have a mate and even if I did, I would only ever feel sorry for her. For being cursed and shackled to me. At least Elain is choosing me. She is choosing me, Y/n. Over her own mate. If that isn’t love, then what is?” 

“I don’t know, Az.” You swallowed harshly, your throat closing up the further this conversation went on. You wanted to scream and sew your mouth shut at the same time. “Is that what this is? Are you truly in love with her?” 

This was it. The question you had been avoiding for months. And his answer would solidify everything. It would either put the nail in the coffin between the two of you or it would lighten the weight on your shoulders for just a minute—give you a modicum of hope to hang onto. 

“I am,” Azriel snapped, surprising you with his sudden ire. He rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing at you. “What is wrong with you? I thought you cared about me. I thought you were my friend, Y/n, and you’re acting just like Rhysand.” 

You shot up from your seat, eyes wide. “No, Az, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I just—”

“No, I get it,” Azriel scoffed, cutting you off. His eyes were ice cold. He had never looked at you like that before. It made your heart pause. “You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling. All you wanted was Azriel to be happy. It was another reason why you hadn’t said anything about the mating bond. Because he was happy with Elain and you didn’t want to throw a wrench into that. You hadn’t meant anything by asking him those questions—only wanted a bit of closure for yourself. 

Well, you had gotten closure, all right. Azriel would never choose you. He was right. You were miserable and lonely and heartbroken. Why would he choose you? But you hadn’t expected him to be so harsh. A simple yes would’ve done the same. Tears slipped down your cheeks and the anger from Azriel’s eyes was washed away.

But you didn’t stick around to hear his half-assed apology. You couldn’t. Not when your heart was being ripped apart in your chest, not as bile was rising in your hoarse throat. You dropped your book down on the coffee table before fleeing from the room, ignoring his calls of your name as you left.

• ───────────────── •

But you're so full of shit, 

Tell me it's a bit, 

Say you don't see it, your mind's polluted

Say you wanna quit, don't be stupid

• ───────────────── •

Months went by, all meshing together. You had avoided Azriel since that day in the library. It hurt but being around him hurt even more. It was all you could do to protect your already broken heart. He didn’t reach out to you either, instead all of his attention went to Elain. 

Elain who had finally told Lucien she would never accept their bond. 

And so Azriel and her had finally proclaimed their love to the whole family. A family you felt yourself slipping away from bit by bit. No one even seemed to notice. After all, it had always been you and Azriel hiding away in the shadows—content to observe and love from the corners of the room. 

But now it was just you in that corner, all alone. 

You stopped going to family dinners, stopped hanging around the River House, stopped going to training with the Valkyries. You began to disappear from their lives day by day. You couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when your mate was in love with someone else—not as they all started new chapters in their lives and left you behind. 

You had overstayed your welcome. No longer Azriel’s closest friend and confidant. No longer Cassian’s sparring buddy. No longer an extra ear for Rhys to run court decisions by. No longer Mor’s dancing partner or Amren’s pupil to bully. 

You became a shadow of yourself. Sleepless nights led to a lack of energy and focus. Constant tears led to being voiceless. You couldn’t even resort to alcohol because it made the steely barrier you had put up to block out the mating bond come tumbling down, flooding you with all of Azriel’s feelings. Happiness, joy, lust, desire, satiation. 

It was just a reminder that you weren’t the one giving him those things. 

But you couldn’t disappear the way you wanted to. Not when a new war started with Koschei. Despite months of not being around, Rhysand still sent you a notice to come to a meeting to discuss strategy and to inform everyone of new developments. 

You wanted to ignore the summons but the thought of Azriel going into battle again without you around to watch his back nearly sent you spiraling. So you made your way to the River House, eyes on the floor the whole time as you stepped inside and hung up your coat. 

You were about to go up the stairs to get to Rhys’s office when a hand on your shoulder stopped you. You spun around and your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with Azriel. You took a shaky step away from him, your hand coming up to grip at your chest. The mating bond you had been trying to ignore shoved its way through your defenses—bombarding you with Azriel’s emotions once again. 

His hazel eyes were filled with a bit of guilt and remorse. “Y/n, I was wondering if you were going to show up today. I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you but you haven’t been around much.”

Your mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Azriel hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking, “I never got to apologize for the things I said to you. It's not an excuse, but Rhys had just laid into me again about Elain before I found you in the library and I took my anger out on you when you were just trying to be a good friend and I am truly sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean any of it.” 

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His words had felt true that day. Besides, what he said to you might’ve been wrong but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was in love with someone else. Regardless of his apology, there was no way you could go back to being his friend. It hurt too much. 

Azriel seemed to be waiting for you to say anything else and his shoulders deflated a bit when he realized you weren’t going to. He gave you a weak smile before summoning something from his shadows. An envelope. He held it out for you to grab. You took it from him with a questioning look. 

“It’s an invitation,” Azriel explained. “Me and Elain are getting married. I wanted to deliver this to you in person. It would mean a lot to have you there, Y/n.” 

You stared at the envelope in your hand. 

Stared and stared and stared. 

Even throughout the whole meeting with the Inner Circle, all you could do was stare at that godsdamn envelope. Because inside of it was the last piece of your broken heart, smashed and weeping. Azriel was getting married…and not to you. To her. 

So when Rhys announced his plans of attack for Koschei and how he needed someone to act as bait for the Death God, you were the first to volunteer because you truly had nothing left to lose. 

• ───────────────── •

And I don't know what I'm crying for

I don't think I could love you more

Might not be long, but baby, I

Don't wanna say goodbye

• ───────────────── •

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up front with the rest of us?” Feyre asked.

You looked up at her from your seat in the very back of the temple, shaking your head. You gave her a blank look. “No, it’s all right. I’m fine back here. You know I don’t like that attention of sitting near the High Lord and Lady.” 

Feyre gave you an understanding nod. “Okay, but you will sit with us at the reception. I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

You nodded to appease her, knowing you had no intentions of staying past the ceremony. You were only here for one reason—because Azriel had asked you to be here and you could never say no to him. So here you sat, your chest empty and your eyes sore from the tears you spilled last night. 

This wedding felt more like a funeral to you and in some ways, it was. You were saying goodbye to a future you could’ve had with your mate, giving up the final piece of yourself for his sake, and getting to watch him be happy and free, such a bittersweet feeling. All you had ever wished was that he could be happy with you but that was just a dream—that’s all it would ever be. 

Elain looked so beautiful in her wedding gown, as she always did. 

Azriel’s eyes lit up the moment she came through the doorway, striding down the aisle to him. He held out his hand for her, helping her up the steps to stand before him. They didn’t look away from each other for a single moment during the ceremony. He was so in love with her. So in love with her and not you…never you. 

The whole room was bursting with joy but not you. You were happy for him, of course. But you couldn’t help but feel that ache in your chest and everything that came with it. The hurt, the jealousy, the grief. 

Had he even really wanted you here or had it been a pity invite? It didn’t matter because he took no notice of anyone but Elain. So when the ceremony ended and everyone began to make their way to the reception, you slinked into the shadows and disappeared once again. 

• ───────────────── •

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

'Til the day that I die

'Til the light leaves my eyes

'Til the day that I die

• ───────────────── •

The battle was over. Koschei had been defeated. You had gone through with serving as the bait for this plan to work. It had cost so much to finally take him down. So many lives, so much power. And you. It had cost you everything. 

You were dying. Slowly.

But you knew this was the end for you.

Even if you could be saved, you didn’t want to be.

You wanted to let death embrace you in his cold arms.

You wanted to leave behind this life finally.

Everyone was still cheering and hugging with relief when you stumbled back into the war camp. You pressed a hand against the deep wound in your stomach, blood bubbling through the cracks in your fingers as you passed by everyone—no one taking notice of you or your severely injured state.

Not until you made it to the main tent where the rest of the Inner Circle had begun to celebrate the victory. 

It was Feyre who noticed you first, her gasp alerting the rest of them to your presence. But you were only looking at Azriel as you stumbled into the tent, barely making it past the threshold before you crumbled to the ground. You choked on the blood filling up your mouth, some of it trickling out of your lips. 

Azriel shouted your name, pushing Cassian out of his way to get to you. He knelt before you, eyes wide with panic as he grasped your shoulders. In the background, you could faintly hear Rhysand shouting for a healer but you knew it was too late for that. 

You weakly smiled up at Azriel. This is what you wanted. To just see him one last time. To let his face be the last thing you see before death came to take you. You reached a hand out, letting your fingertips brush against his jaw. 

It took you being gravely injured for the mating bond to finally snap in place for him. You knew the minute he realized. The mating bond hummed in your chest but its song was so quiet now…so, so quiet. 

It was slowly fraying as your life dimmed. 

“Mate,” Azriel choked out in a whisper, his hand resting on your cheek. His eyes were still full of panic. “You’re…You’re my mate.” 

You nodded, coughing again and more blood slipped out of your lips and down your chin. Azriel shouted frantically for a healer before focusing on you again, his eyes searching yours. “You knew?” 

You nodded again, your body sagging in his hold. He let out a panicked cry and pulled you into his lap. “How long? How long have you known?” 

“A while,” you managed to croak, your fingers raising to caress his jaw again. 

Azriel stared at you in horror as he shouted again for a healer. You could hear the pounding of feet and other panicked whispers but you tuned it all out. You just wanted to go peacefully. No screaming, no cries. Just you and Azriel for the last second of your life. 

“Why?” he cried out, wiping one of your tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You…were…happy,” you struggled to get out, your eyes closing with the effort. Azriel shook your body, tears filling up in his eyes.

“No, stay awake, Y/n, you have to stay awake,” Azriel pleaded with you. “The healer is almost here, okay. Just stay awake a little longer.” 

“I-It’s…okay,” you mumbled. “Want…want to go.” 

You coughed again, blood splatting your face. Azriel released a cry that nearly caused the ground to shake. “No, you can’t. You can’t go. You’re my mate, Y/n. You can’t do this to me!” 

“I’ll find…you…again,” you slurred out. “Maybe…maybe I’ll be…good enough….then.” 

You blinked once, your vision blurry but you could see Azriel’s beautiful face. Gods, he was so beautiful. He was screaming something but your hearing went along with your vision, slowly worsening until finally, your heart stopped beating in your chest. 

And with that, the pain was finally gone. 

• ───────────────── •

I knew you in another life

You had that same look in your eyes

I love you, don't act so surprised

• ───────────────── •

Epilogue

[uzurakis]

apologies if u find this weird but it’s been on my mind for a while.. rotting my brain if u will.. jjk men being told by the others to keep it down while they AHEM fuck bc they could hear them😓

D★MN, KEEP IT DOWN !

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. geto suguru. (characters are all aged up)

NSFW MDNI. explicit themes under the cut!

n. nonnie sorry this took awhile. i rlly like your request but i was contemplating whether i should make it a full on filthy smut or not lmao (i chose the latter eventually). thanku for requesting thiis, was giggling the whole time and i do not find it weird at all bb, it’s quite funny actually XD

damn, keep it down will you?

you guys are too fucking loud!

ITADORI YUUJI

“was it really that loud?” in the hopes that someone outside the room might hear you, you shouted. “sorry about that! we were just really into it!” itadori added, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, blending with the lingering excitement in the air. "really babe? 'we were just really into it?'" you quoted him, unable to contain your amusement at his witty retort.

"we are, right?" itadori exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with passion as he continued to shove it slowly in your walls. “don’t say ya don’t enjoy when i make ya like this, baby.”

you nodded, unable to control your arousal as you let out faint whimpers. "ah, definitely, yuu.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

your boyfriend's response was immediate, his tone tinged with irritation. "fuck off!" he retorted, frustration evident.

though you felt a twinge of embarrassment at getting caught, you couldn't help but laugh tensely at his boldness. "what?" he paused his pace and asked a question. you kept kissing him carelessly around his neck, saying, "no, don't stop," as he began to move slowly once again. "don’t be so mean, baby. focus on me."

his broad grin widened as he picked up the pace, having fun with those words. watching you act like a mess over him, megumi said, "mhmm, you don't need to say that."

"i'm totally focused on you."

GOJO SATORU

"guess we got carried away, darling,” gojo chuckled playfully. "seems like it," you agreed, feeling a rush of contentment wash over you. “i told you to keep it down, satoru.”

“hey, who’s the one moaning over my cock, baby?” he retorted, sometimes you felt like you wanted to slap that arrogant grin of his. “can’t put the blame on me like dat.”

“and who begged tremendously to let it in, huh?” you fire back a query, but he cuts you off as you feel it tearing your pussy even more deeply and forcefully.

you can't help but wail, "shit—ah, satoru," and feel his touch throughout your entire body, especially when he bit down the right spots. “keep it down? hell nah.”

“we’re just getting warmed up, darling.”

GETO SUGURU

"can't promise anything, but we'll try!" geto called back, a grin evident in his voice.

"will we though?" you inquired with a grin, as if it were impossible. geto returned your gaze, interlocking his hands once more as he bent down and kissed you on the lips. "that's why i said we can't promise anything, princess."

"but how else will the guys know we're having a good time?" he said, voice full of joyful mischief as he proceeded to work you through the sweet spot. dripping saliva as you sticked you tongue out and making a mess, unable to say anything since his cock has left your body speechless.

geto clearly understands your body, what it wants, and why it wants him.

"let me show ya how to make ya feel good, princess."

@uzurakis — rqs are open ^u^

[reidmarieprentiss]

Always You

Summary: Spencer is in love with his best friend, you already have a boyfriend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: being called a bitch (not by spencer), sharing hotel rooms, pining, love confessions, break ups, (un)requited feelings, HAPPY ending

Word count: 4.6k

a/n: if your partner of multiple years does not know your basic likes and dislikes ..............

main masterlist

For two years, seven months, two weeks, and six days, you have been a dedicated member of the BAU. For two years, five months, two weeks, and four days, Spencer Reid has been hopelessly in love with you. But for two years and four months, and one week, you’ve been in a relationship with Duncan Cody, the Counter-Terrorism agent who everyone not-so-secretly despises. Spencer was just too late to tell you how he felt, and for two years and four months, that regret has gnawed at him, leaving him haunted by what could have been. 

—

The team was on a case in a small, dusty town in New Mexico, and the accommodations were limited, forcing everyone to double up on rooms. Naturally, you chose to bunk with your best friend, Spencer. But he was unusually tense about the arrangement.

“Hey, JJ, can we switch?” Spencer asked, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness.

JJ looked up from her phone, puzzled. “Huh? Why? I thought you liked rooming with Y/N.”

Spencer swallowed, trying to keep his voice low and steady. Usually, he did love sharing a room with you—it was comfortable, familiar. But the oppressive heat of New Mexico had driven you to wear lighter, more revealing clothes, and Spencer had been struggling with the sight of you all day. The thought of what you might wear to bed, or worse, the possibility that you might wear nothing at all, had his mind spinning and his temperature rising.

“Yeah, no, I do. It’s just… I thought you might want a chance to room with her instead of Hotch,” he stammered, attempting to sound casual.

JJ smiled warmly, shaking her head. “Aww, thanks, Spence, but I don’t mind. Hotch and I usually just talk about the boys until we pass out. It’s actually been pretty nice.”

Spencer forced a tight smile, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten as JJ cheerfully dismissed his suggestion. He could hardly blame her; in fact, he would normally jump at the chance to room with you. But the idea of spending the night so close to you, especially in the sweltering New Mexico heat, had his nerves frayed.

Back in the room, you were already making yourself comfortable, tossing your bag onto the bed with a carefree smile. "It's like a sauna out there," you groaned, fanning yourself with your hand. "I might just sleep in my underwear tonight."

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing at the mental image that followed your innocent comment. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. "Y-yeah, it's definitely... warm."

You flashed him a grin, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. "At least the AC is working, right?"

"Right," Spencer echoed, swallowing hard. This was going to be a long night.

“Do you mind if I take the first shower? I’ll be quick, I want to get right to bed; I’m beat,” you asked, glancing up from your go-bag as you rummaged through it for your toiletries.

Spencer, trying to keep his cool, nodded quickly. “Ye–yeah, that’s fine.”

You smiled, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on him. “Oh, and which bed do you want?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Um, whichever is fine.”

“Thank god, I want the one by the window. Thanks, Spence!” You flashed him a grateful grin before grabbing your things and heading off to the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut behind you, Spencer exhaled a breath he’d been holding. It was wrong to fantasize about his best friend, especially in the very not-safe-for-work way that he often did, and especially when you had a serious partner. But he couldn’t help it. You were the kindest, most genuine person he knew, and the fact that you were also the most stunning person, inside and out, only made it that much harder for him to keep his feelings in check.

Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, keeping your promise to be quick. However, Spencer’s pulse skyrocketed when he saw you—dressed in nothing but your underwear and a thin tank top that left little to the imagination. He could feel his face flush as he quickly averted his gaze.

“I’m all done, Spence. Shower’s all yours,” you said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“Uh, thanks!” Spencer blurted out, nearly tripping over his own feet as he shot up from the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. He knew there was only one solution to his current predicament—a long, cold shower.

Once both of you were settled in bed with the lights off, you couldn’t resist starting a conversation. Sharing a room with Spencer always reminded you of those childhood sleepovers—giggly, fun, and safe. The quiet darkness seemed to invite whispered secrets, the kind that felt easier to share when you couldn’t see each other’s faces.

“I think Duncan is going to break up with me,” you whispered, your voice just loud enough for Spencer to hear, but soft enough that it felt protected by the shadows.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

You hesitated for a moment, as if hearing the words out loud made them more real. “I hadn’t said it out loud yet. It sounds crazy now that I have.”

“Why do you think he’s going to break up with you?” Spencer asked, his voice gentle, though he could feel a tightness in his chest.

You sighed deeply, the weight of your thoughts evident. “He’s been pulling away recently. Fewer date nights, less texting during the day… I haven’t spoken to him on the phone once since we got here.” You paused, gathering the courage to continue. “We haven’t had sex in weeks.”

Spencer felt a sharp pang of something unpleasant in his stomach at that comment—jealousy, frustration, regret—he wasn’t sure. “Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Thanks, Reid,” you replied, your tone quiet and resigned.

For a long moment, silence hung between you, thick and heavy, as if neither of you knew what to say next. Just when you began to drift off, almost convinced that sleep was pulling you under, you heard Spencer’s voice, low and tender, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“If he lets you go, he is the single biggest imbecile on this planet.”

You blinked in the darkness, half-convinced you were imagining things. Did Spencer really just say that? But before you could ask, the silence returned, leaving you to wonder if it was just a dream after all.

—

No more confessions were made during the case, and within a few days, the team was back home. But for Spencer, the case hadn’t been the only thing on his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you might be single soon. The possibility gnawed at him—would he have a chance? Could he ever muster the courage to tell you how he really felt? Who knows?

What he did know, however, was that you had been using him as a frequent escape from your shared apartment with Duncan. Spencer didn’t mind; in fact, he cherished every moment with you.

“Hey, Spence, do you want to order pizza and watch a movie tonight?” you asked casually as the workday began to wind down.

“Yeah, sounds great,” Spencer replied, his smile brightening his features.

As soon as you walked away, Derek strolled over to Spencer’s desk, a look of mild concern on his face. “Uh, Reid?”

“Yeah?” Spencer responded, glancing up at him.

“I thought you had a date tonight?”

Spencer blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“With that girl from the post office?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he realized he had completely forgotten about the date. “I completely forgot.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, surprised. Spencer never forgot anything. “Listen, Reid. I know we all have our feelings about Duncan… but be careful, okay?”

Spencer frowned slightly, unsure what Derek was getting at. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just—she’s hurting right now, but what happens when they make up? I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

Spencer’s mind began to race as he processed Derek’s words. “We’re just friends, Derek. I’m just supporting her in her time of need.”

Derek gave him a look that was equal parts sympathetic and skeptical. “I hope you’re right, Pretty Boy.”

As Derek walked away, Spencer found himself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. Was Derek right? Was he setting himself up for heartache? He didn’t know the answers, but one thing was certain—he was in too deep to turn back now.

—

You were sitting on Spencer's couch, enjoying a slice of pizza, when his phone started ringing on the coffee table. Since Spencer was in the bathroom, you reached over to grab it, assuming it might be work-related. But the screen flashed a name you didn't recognize: Amanda. Who's Amanda? you wondered, feeling a twinge in your stomach that you quickly tried to dismiss.

When Spencer came back from the bathroom, you waved his phone with a teasing smile, trying to mask the discomfort you felt. "Who's Amanda, Spence?" you asked, your voice light but edged with curiosity.

His face dropped instantly, a look of confusion and then realization washing over him. "What?"

"You got a call from someone named Amanda," you repeated, watching his reaction closely.

Spencer's shoulders sagged as he took the phone from you. "Oh shoot, I forgot to cancel our date tonight. She probably thinks I stood her up."

Your heart sank a little. "Wait, Reid, you had a date tonight? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gone home!"

The mix of surprise and a slight sense of betrayal hung in the air. Spencer looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes wide with concern. "I... I just forgot. With everything going on, it slipped my mind. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here if you had other plans."

You forced a smile, shaking your head slightly. "It's okay, I just... didn't realize." Inside, you were conflicted, feeling foolish for how comfortable you’d become in his space, reminding yourself once again that you were just friends, despite the years of ignoring that pit in your stomach.

—

The entire team had taken note of the significant amount of time you and Spencer had been spending together, and they were all too aware of his long-standing crush on you. Their concern for their friend was palpable, which made the next rooming arrangement all the more telling. When the opportunity arose again for team members to share rooms, JJ immediately claimed you as her roommate. You caught the unmistakable look of relief that Spencer sent her way. What the hell?

That night, as you settled into the room with JJ, the question that had been nagging at you finally spilled out. "Why did Spencer seem relieved not to room with me? Did I do something wrong?"

JJ looked at you with her soft, comforting eyes, shaking her head gently. "Oh, I don’t think so," she reassured you in her calming tone. "Last time he asked me to switch, I think he just wanted a break," she added, her words kind but straightforward.

"Got it." The words felt like a punch to your gut. Your best friend didn’t want to room with you? The thought made you feel nauseous, or maybe it was the urge to cry that was overwhelming you.

"Is everything okay?" JJ noticed the tears brimming in your eyes.

"Yeah," you waved her off with a forced chuckle. "I’m on my period, just overly emotional," you laughed it off, masking the true turmoil you felt.

JJ immediately responded with a warm smile. "Aw, honey, I have pain killers and tampons if you need anything!"

"Thanks, JJ," you muttered, grateful for her kindness but still reeling from the emotional sting of the evening's revelations.

—

After the case, you found yourself withdrawing from Spencer, the sting of feeling like an imposition too sharp to ignore. Instead, you poured your energy into mending the fraying edges of your relationship with Duncan. Spencer, on the other hand, was left puzzled by your sudden distance, unable to pinpoint the cause of this shift in your dynamic. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of a faint hickey peeking out from under your collar that he understood—or thought he did.

“So you fixed things with Duncan?” he asked one day, trying to sound casual as he joined you for coffee in the breakroom.

“Yup. I’ll be out of your hair now, don’t worry,” you replied with a tight smile, and without waiting for his response, you walked out, leaving Spencer bewildered in your wake.

“What was that about?” JJ inquired, having witnessed the interaction from her spot by the vending machine.

“Not sure, she’s been giving me the cold shoulder since the last case,” Spencer murmured, frowning deeply as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly.

“Oh, I might know why,” JJ said, her voice lowering slightly.

“Why?” Spencer looked up, his interest piqued.

“Well, she knows you didn’t want to room with her,” JJ revealed, her expression sympathetic.

“What? You told her?” Spencer’s voice was a mix of surprise and slight irritation.

“She asked, Spence. She was really upset about the whole thing too. You should talk to her,” JJ advised, her tone earnest.

Spencer nodded slowly, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I will,” he agreed, his mind already racing with what he would say to you, hoping to mend the unintentional hurt he had caused.

—

"Y/N, can we talk?" Spencer caught up with you just as you were about to step into the elevator on a quiet Friday evening. The office had already emptied, leaving you both as the last on the floor.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, pausing to face him, noting the serious look on his face.

Spencer opened his mouth to explain the hotel room situation, his mind racing for the right words that wouldn't betray his deeper feelings. "Well, you see, it's about the hotel room situation on the last case, and I just—uh, I mean, when we were assigned to room together, I found myself in a bit of a predicament, or rather, a series of considerations that perhaps aren't usual, or rather aren't typically problematic in ordinary circumstances, but given the nature of—"

"Spencer, it's fine. You don't have to room with me on every case. I'm sorry I never asked first," you interjected, misreading his hesitation.

"No, no, I want to room with you," he blurted out, more forcefully than he intended.

"Then why did you ask JJ to switch?" you asked, your confusion evident.

Spencer felt trapped between his desire to comfort you and his fear of making things awkward. "Um...it was just really warm on that case, and I—I didn't want to see you in your underwear," he admitted, his cheeks coloring slightly.

"What? Spencer, you could have just told me. Oh my god! I was walking around in my underwear!" you exclaimed, half-amused and half-mortified.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No, Reid, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Is it because I have a boyfriend?" you asked, your tone laced with concern.

Spencer scoffed at the mention of Duncan. "No."

"Then what is it?" you pressed, your gaze steady on his.

Caught with no more excuses, Spencer knew he was cornered. His heart raced with the realization that there was no turning back. "Because I'm in love with you," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

—

Spencer Reid's confession echoed in your mind, each word reverberating through your thoughts like a bell that couldn’t be unrung. Spencer Reid is in love with me? The realization sent your thoughts into a tumultuous spiral as you drove home, the familiar streets blurring past. You considered pulling over, needing a moment to process the swirling chaos in your head, but you pushed on, driven by a need to just get home.

When you finally walked through the door of your apartment, the atmosphere struck you immediately. It was dimmer than usual, the air filled with a scent that was distinctly not yours. The smell of soy candles—a scent you distinctly disliked—mingled with the scent of red roses, another thing you didn't care for.

"Duncan?" Your voice was hesitant, almost wary as you set your things by the door and walked deeper into the dimly lit space.

"In here, babe," Duncan called out from the living room.

Following his voice, you found him standing in the center of a meticulously staged scene, surrounded by the roses and candles. The setup was so unlike what you would have wanted, so disconnected from who you were.

"Uhhh, what’s going on here?" you asked, your tone a mix of confusion and a growing sense of disconnect.

Duncan turned to you with a smile that didn’t feel genuine, the ambiance around him feeling more like a set piece than a gesture of genuine affection. "Y/N," he began, his voice taking on a rehearsed quality that made your heart sink even further. "I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I just really think it’s time we take the next step together. What do you say?"

The words, meant to be romantic, felt hollow and oddly generic, as if they were pulled from a script rather than from his heart. Standing there, with Spencer's heartfelt confession still burning bright in your mind, Duncan’s display felt even more jarring.

The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows as Duncan's unexpected question hung in the air. “What?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

The word slipped out before you could even think, a reflex born of surprise and clarity. “No.” It was firm, decisive, echoing slightly in the quiet room.

Duncan’s face crumbled, his brow furrowing in confusion and hurt. “What?” he echoed again, his voice a blend of disbelief and dismay.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. “Uh, this is just so out of left field. I mean, we have never once talked about marriage.”

Duncan’s response was quick, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. “But, babe, we live together,” he reasoned, as if cohabitation alone was a precursor to marriage.

“So? You basically ignored me for a whole month,” you countered, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

“Right, but then we fixed things, so we know we work together,” he argued, trying to paint a picture of a resolved partnership.

You couldn’t help but let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Solid logic,” you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the conversation becoming more apparent.

Duncan's frustration was palpable. “Are you really being sarcastic right now?”

“Yeah, and I wish you were too,” you shot back, wishing the whole scenario was just a bad joke.

Duncan’s next words were sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fuck you, bitch.”

You froze for a moment, the harshness of his words striking deep. “What did you just call me?” Your voice was calm, almost eerily so, as you fixed your gaze on him.

“A bitch,” he repeated, his voice cold and hard.

“Get out,” you said, your tone final. You stood up, your posture rigid with resolve.

“No, I live here too,” he protested, but there was a waver in his voice now.

“Whose name is on the lease? Get out before I call my team. Do you want Derek and Emily to escort you out?” Your words were a clear threat, backed by the certainty that you would follow through if needed.

Duncan hesitated, his anger giving way to a flicker of fear as he considered your words. Then, in a sudden burst of spite, he hurled the ring box at you. “Keep it, I don’t want your bad juju.”

With that, he stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a force that seemed to shake the apartment. Silence descended, heavy and absolute, as you stood there, the ring box at your feet, a stark reminder of the relationship that had just disintegrated before your eyes.

—

Spencer Reid had cried more times in his life than he cared to count. He cried when he was bullied as a child, when his father walked out on him and his mother, when he made the heartbreaking decision to place his mom in a care facility. He cried when he was kidnapped, when Emily died—or so he thought. The list of tears was long, but today, he added another entry: the day he told his best friend he was in love with her, only for her to stand there as still as a statue, silent and unmoving, until his heart shattered so completely that he had to leave before she saw him break down.

Now, he lay in bed, the lights off, his eyes puffy and wet, replaying every scenario he wished had happened instead of the painful reality he’d experienced. He sniffled, whimpered, and curled into himself, desperate for a do-over, a second chance to make it right. But life wasn’t that kind.

A knock sounded at his door, pulling him from his misery. He ignored it, too consumed by his sorrow to entertain company. The knocking persisted, three more times, before it finally ceased. Relief was short-lived, however, as his phone began to ring. Without checking the caller ID, Spencer answered, his voice sharp and uncharacteristically harsh. “What?”

“Spence, it’s me. Please open the door.”

He’d never moved so fast in his life. Leaping out of bed in such a hurry, he promptly tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor with a thud. “Ouch,” he muttered, pushing himself up with a wince. Ignoring the ache, he scrambled to the door, swinging it open with such force that it nearly bounced back. His heart clenched at the sight of you standing there, your expression filled with concern as you took in his tear-streaked face.

“Hi, Spence,” you greeted softly, your voice gentle as if trying not to scare him away.

“Hi,” he croaked out, barely holding himself together.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your tone tentative.

He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. Once inside, you turned to face him, clearly gathering your thoughts.

“So, uh, I’m just going to talk. You can listen or interrupt, whatever you want,” you offered, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer nodded again, still too emotionally raw to form coherent words.

You took a deep breath. “Duncan proposed to me.” The words hung in the air, a bombshell that detonated in Spencer’s chest. His heart broke all over again, shattering into a billion pieces. “I said no.”

His head shot up so fast he thought he might have given himself whiplash. “What?”

“Yeah, it was bad. He had red roses and soy candles set up in the living room.” Spencer’s nose scrunched in distaste; he knew how much you hated those things. “And when he left, he called me a bitch and threw the ring at me.”

Spencer’s fists clenched, a protective anger surging through him. “I’ll kill him.”

“Nah, someone else will. I’m sure of it,” you replied with a small, rueful smile.

His anger softened, replaced by confusion. “So…what are you doing here?”

You looked at him with determination and vulnerability. “What ring would you buy me?”

“Huh?” Spencer blinked, taken aback by the sudden question.

“If you were to propose to me, say tomorrow. What kind of ring would you buy for me?” you asked, your eyes searching his.

“A round cut diamond with a thin silver band,” he answered without hesitation, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

“I’m in love with you too,” you confessed, your voice steady, but your eyes shimmering with emotion.

“Wait, what?” Spencer was incredulous, his mind racing to process what you’d just said. But even as his heart tried to catch up, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Duncan got me a thick gold ring with a pear-cut lab-grown pink diamond,” you explained, shaking your head at the mismatch.

“Did he know you at all?” Spencer asked, the smile growing despite the shock still coursing through him.

“Apparently not. I’m going to kiss you now,” you declared, stepping closer, leaving Spencer no time to overthink, no time to doubt—just enough time to feel the world tilt as your lips met his.

It was gentle at first, a tentative brush of lips, as if testing the waters. But then something shifted, a dam breaking as all the unspoken feelings, the years of longing and missed chances, came rushing to the surface. Spencer responded in kind, his hands lifting to cradle your face with a tenderness that belied the storm inside him. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped in the heat of the moment.

He poured everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—all the love, all the fear, all the hope. The kiss deepened, growing in intensity, but it remained sweet, a quiet revelation of the love that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and slightly trembling, your foreheads rested against each other’s, both of you taking a moment to simply exist in the aftermath of the kiss. Spencer’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with wonder and relief.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“Better late than never,” he said, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, the sound breaking the last of the tension between you. With your hand still resting on his chest, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart, mirroring your own.

Spencer’s hand slipped from your cheek to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours as if afraid to let go. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of hopefulness.

“Wherever you want, Spence,” you replied, your smile reassuring. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Spencer’s eyes twinkled with affection and mischief, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I never want to room with Hotch again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. “Just me?”

Spencer’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering as he responded with quiet sincerity. “It’s always been you.”

The words hung in the air, filled with all the meaning and truth he had held back for so long. Before you could fully process the weight of his confession, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second, every sensation.

The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s embrace. This kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a confirmation of everything that had been unspoken until now.

When you finally parted, both of you breathless but smiling, it was clear that nothing would ever be the same. And that was perfectly okay.

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

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[haze-of-hyperfixations]

So. Obviously the Luck Runs Out references in Mutiny are heartbreaking and fantastic.

But I think the song was also setting up some parallels with Puppeteer.

Puppeteer: "There's no length I wouldn't go, if it was you I had to save. I can only hope you'd do the same." Mutiny: "Don't make me fight you, brother, you know you'd have done the same!"

And the thing is, Eurylochus would have done the same. Earlier in the story. During Puppeteer, he wanted to run. He wanted to abandon his men. And Odysseus was the one to fight for their crew. And it worked!! They got out! Odysseus gave them a shred of hope and got them out of an impossible situation! So Eurylochus learns from that. He grows and changes. He becomes someone who refuses to leave his men at the mercy of a monster. Unfortunately, this was around the same time that Odysseus decided to become the monster.

That's the tragedy of it all; they both change, and they're still at odds! Eurylochus is throwing Odysseus's own past heroic decisions back at him. Odysseus retaliates by reminding Eurylochus of his own past cowardice. They don't know each other anymore!! They're two desperate people trying to make the best decisions they can, and they just keep getting people hurt, and they're both so tired.

Puppeteer: "I've got all the power, yeah, I've got all the power-" Mutiny: "If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame!"

In a way, the Eurylochus vs Odysseus conflict parallels the Odysseus vs Circe conflict. And the Circe Saga ended with Odysseus at Circe's mercy as he begged her to let them leave. The Thunder Saga ended with Eurylochus and the crew at Odysseus's mercy, with "Captain? ... But we'll die." Circe spared Odysseus. Odysseus chose to let his men die. He's come full circle, paralleling the enemy he once faced, and then going further than she did.

Does any of that make sense? I don't know, it's almost two in the morning. Anyways, the Thunder Saga ripped out my heart and I'm obsessed with the tragic humanity of all of it!!!

[montrasity]

“but they matured!”

Of course they did.

I don’t think people understand that when it comes to the dynamic of an abuser and their victim, the abuser can always move on and change at any time.

All because of one simple reason; they weren’t the ones that had to be on the receiving end of the trauma.

The abusers can move on and live their happy lives without ever having to think twice about their pasts, chalk it up to ‘them being kids and not knowing any better’ while the victim has to live with the burnt of that trauma for the rest of their life.

It’s why the argument that the marauders ‘grew up and matured’ always falls flat to my ears because it always feels as if it’s used as an excuse to blame the victim for not being able to let go of their trauma and ‘get over it’, especially because severus was never shown to have ever had a good support system for him ‘getting over it’ to have ever been a possibility.

Even more-so when it’s shown that the marauders hadn’t changed or matured at all.

Did they ever apologize?

Did they ever try to atone for their actions?

No, they never did. They simply chose to forget about it and move on with their lives. Because it did not affect them.

They grew up, they got married, they enjoyed life, and when they died their sins were wiped clean and they were martyred and worshipped by the entire wizarding world.

It’s no wonder that Severus carried as much bitterness as he did.

[galactic-rhea]

you know, maybe I'm wrong, but my interpretation of Anakin/Vader and Redeemed Anakin is that he pretty much is aware he's terrible. He pretty much thinks of himself as a monster even before becoming Vader, he considers himself one as soon as he had to leave Shmi to survive as a slave alone while he got to become The Chosen One and travel the stars (his basic understanding of love is self-sacrifice), he knows the tusken massacre was bad, he knows murdering disarmed Dooku was bad; he knew turning against the jedi and helping Palpatine was bad; he's extremelly self aware of his violence and hates himself for it.

I think it's easy to think of him as nonchalant or as sort of a shameless dick about it all because his General At War Persona was to be jokey and pretend he's having fun. He's very confident on his ability for Murder (tm), he (tragically) became one of the Best general jedis in the order by becoming good at murder, he's useful when he's being murderous at the right people; so he has no doubts on his abilities on this regard; that doesn't mean he isn't aware of how fucked up and cruel it is, but he keeps doing it, and it's all he knows; he was born in violence, raised in violence, taught to yield a extremelly dangerous weapon, groomed into violence, rewarded for violence, cheered for violence, with Ahsoka then he had to teach violence, and then violence just became something that ran in his blood, it came to him easily, too easily because he was never given the means to deal with such a extreme hyperviolent paradigm. So yep, he knows he's good at murder and little self-preservation.

And he probably despised himself for it, he saw himself as less than a being with human rights, he saw himself as a weapon and he hated not being seen as a person, and at some point he became apathic about it, the fight left him as soon as he had no future with a family. As Vader his hate and anger is just cold fury, is mostly apathy and a void of emotions, there's just pain and self-disgust and regret and old anger, there's not even trying to be something else anymore, it's all he's ever been good at and all he's being asked to do.

So redeemed Anakin (which canonically just means Ghost Anakin lmao) acting oblivious or playing the dumb or victim card it's just something I can't even imagine him to do; like Anakin is aware of being violent and messed up and Bad, but he is completely unable to concieve the idea of having been a victim because besides violence, Anakin's other big trait is that he never ever processes trauma and he horrifically has a history of blaming himself instead of the people who owned him.

This guy, when he was at his best as a Jedi, was pathologically prone to suicidal missions even when it wasn't a necessity, he thinks he's an asset, a means for his superiors to impose their stance and chose to own it, instead of blaming his superiors he just hates himself because he can't stop pathetically reliving when he left his mom behind, when he carried her corpse, when he retaliated against even innocents including kids, when he hurt Padmé, all the times he failed, and the he lived in his personal, fitly created just for him, inferno and had no plans to escape it until one certain sunshine farmer showed up, and all because he thinks he deserves the torture and the abuse and being owned because he's just good at murder and nothing else.

So yeah, no one probably hates him more than himself. Someone could tell Ghost Anakin he's a monster, the worst thing that ever happened in the galaxy and he would say "Yes." And no attempts at arguing or whatsoever, his dignity couldn't be lower if he tried, he would half-heartly agree if someone like Luke said the emperor did him wrong by, y'know, torture him? But then he would also say something like "Well, yes, but cruelty is the way of the Sith, what else could be expected", he's just terribly messed up and couldn't stop himself from defending, at least a little, his literal groomer and abuser and master, and he certainly won't expect forgiveness, like,,,,at all. He can, and will, make excuses for people directly hurting him, but he also would retaliate in terrible ways against anyone, guilty or not, if it meant doing it for someone he cared about.

So Anakin is just...used to being used, and falls easily into being used because it's what he knows best, freedom feels useless and uncertain after he lost padmé.

It's an increíble vicious circle: He worked himself hard to be useful because being useful it's what makes people like him and a means of survival, he then hates himself for being just useful and loosing his personhood, and because he hates himself and thinks he doesn't deserve any sort of...human rights, he keeps on being a mere weapon, an object, but what a good and expensive weapon at least, repeat.

So nope, this guy would be completely unable to even dare to play the victim or excuse himself, even less act as if he doesn't understand he did wrong.

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, non - con, pet play, victim - blaming

Eric laid it out since day one - you can be his lover or his pet, and it all depends on you and your behaviour. But you don’t believe him - you push at his chest and you turn your head when he tries to brush his lips against yours. You squirm when he wraps his big, muscled arms around you, and your lips pucker in denial when he tries to feed you. But what’s even worse, what really makes him tick, is when you try to run - when you wait for him to cross the threshold, all soft and doe - eyed as you finally, finally let him kiss you goodbye. When you act like a good fucking girl for once, just so he can let his guard down and forget to lock the door. 

You don’t make it far. You spend approximately thirty seconds in blissful unawareness, having the sun caress your naked skin for the first time in months, the birds chirp and tweet, spring is in the air… And then the alarm goes off, triggered by the tracker installed in your shoulder.

It’s all your fault, really, Eric says. You could have everything. You could have a hot breakfast in bed and hundreds of kisses adoring your warm body. He could take a shower with you every day before work, carefully washing your hair, thoroughly rubbing the sweet flowery shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp just like a husband would for his wife. He could adore you with his whole being. He could make love to you, softly, gently - slowly working you to wet ecstasy with his fingers and tongue before he finally takes you on your back just so he can look at your face lovingly the whole time. 

You could be his equal, he reminds you. You could have all these teeth rooting - sweet, painfully domestic moments - when he hugs you from behind as you bake a pie, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhales your lovely cinnamon aroma. When you fall asleep in the middle of a movie and he sighs with unhidden tenderness, carrying you to the bedroom - careful not to wake you up from your adorable, peaceful sleep. When you grow old together, thirty years from now, and he still remembers to buy you your favourite newsletter along with your coffee, the one with the double sudoku pages.

But you won’t, and he won’t, because you fucked up. You decided you needed less than him - less than his love. And that’s fine by him, he still loves you. He could never stop loving you, and if you want him to play the villain, if you want him to be your cruel master - for him to shorten your leash, who’s he to deny you? 

So he buys a thick pink collar with his initials on it and the most adorable heart - shaped pillow which he lays by his office chair. You stare at it, dumbfounded, unsure what he means by all that - yet Eric is anything if not clear in his intentions. He drags you in by the hair, kicking, screaming and all, shoving you towards what he calls your new home. You feel your eyes prick with hot, humiliating tears, growing even more puzzled. But your captor just coos at you understandingly, patting your head as if you’re a wild animal, as he explains that, if you really want to act like a bitch, he has no problem treating you like one.

He has no problem fucking you instead of making love to you, knees spread far and wide apart in the air, almost reaching your chest as he plows into you with little consideration for your pain aside from a chuckle here and a pinch there. He can live without kissing your soft, beautiful lips if it means he still gets to bite and squeeze and abuse any warm flesh available. He can bear not hearing your breathless voice sing him praises if you can still scream and cry for him just as prettily - when you bruise and mark just as darkly, when you let him grip and grope you just as possessively. 

And when you whine and sob, asking him if he still loves you - and if he does, how he lives with hurting you so, he reminds you that this is the path you chose yourself. After all, he doesn’t need to be a lover, not when you refuse to hold your end of the deal. He just needs to love you, even if that love ends up crushing you. 

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

TW: Irrational jealousy

"Here. You left this at my apartment"

Stealing your gaze from the book, you look at your boyfriend who's holding a wine red lacy bra in his hands, stretching it toward you. Unlike his usual attitude, GOJO doesn't look much lively at the moment. In fact, he looks somewhat... meticulous, like he's operating a very dangerous experience and is about to witness the outcome of his efforts.

Having your eyebrows knotted together, you wordlessly take the bra in your hands, the base of your fingers gently but painfully rubbing against the soft fabric. Gojo tries his best not to let his smirk break out when you give him a quizzical look and squeeze the lingerie in your hands.

"This isn't mine"

There it is. Victory. The awaitened result of his brilliant plan to give you a taste of your medicine.

Gojo cups his mouth while expanding his fingers to give you a better look of his fake gasp through the gap between them, humming abruptly. He carefully takes a second look at the bra, then begins to mutter in a not so low voice.

"Ah— well, this is awkward" He looks at your bewildered expression from the corner of his eye and continues. "I didn't want you to find out. Not this way"

The logic behind this clever act was easy to understand. You chose to spend your day offs with your stupid, lame old friend from college instead of your incredible, handsome, mind blowingly gorgeous boyfriend, and this is your punishment. Your reasoning was too dumb and made up. Huh, how could you even look him in the eye and say you're doing this because he's just gotten back from Austria and needs you to show him around town and introduce him to your colleagues? You should've just shoved a dagger in his aching heart and told him that you dont love him anymore. So yes, you deserve this; and as they all say, revenge is a dish best served cold.

"But you see, I'm not the only one to blame in this. You are too. You were the one who left me in the dark hanging to go on a romantic getaway with that good for nothing punk"

"Satoru—"

"Let me finish. I know that it was just for three days and you did nothing but work together, but I'm a man y/n! A proud, strong grown man who has his own needs"

"Satoru—"

"I'm not an animal y/n, but how do you expect me to close my eyes and pretend like nothing's wrong? Because it is, and since I'm also an honest man, I couldn't bare with the feeling of getting abandoned by my own woman. You and I were supposed to rule the world, but you never wanted what we were—"

"Satoru!!"

Gojo grits his teeth and looks at you with slight irritation, wondering what's so important that has to interrupt his dramatic show; but his liveliness and acting power vanishes in a glance when his eyes land on the part of the bra you're pointing at while holding it up.

"There's a price tag on this"

Oh.

The small, round label is linked to the inside of the bra, which is probably why Gojo had forgotten to remove it. Yes, it was totally that; not because he was too focused on his dialogues that he forgot to even check the bra out.

Gojo stares at your jumped up eyebrows and annoyed expression, flashing you one of his most charming smiles; Only this time he can't make it as shameless as it usually is.

"Eh, I guess this shows how much I actually love you and care about you"

"You bought this two sizes bigger than mine you asshole"

"My bad, I kinda got carried away"

[jjunieworld]

spilt milk ⋆｡˚ 🥛 𓂅

part two to the great bake off!! — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

pairing: choi soobin x afab!reader (no prns!)

genre: smut, pwp (previous part), some fluff if you squint

synopsis: after a particularly messy competition week in the shop, you and soobin are told to stay after hours to clean the bakery up. with soobin winning the title of the best baker who ever lived, you have an idea of what his prize should be.

warnings: soft dom!soobin & somewhat sub!reader, freshly established relationship, soobin has a big fat dick, slight size kink (can you blame me), unprotected sex (pls wrap it i beg!), fingering, oral (m. receiving), making out, slight exhibitionism(?), multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, slight orgasm control, some praise, use of pet names (baby, darling), slight hair pulling (m.), fingers are in mouths, slight dick training(?), lots of teasing, marking, slight overstimulation, some cockwarming

word count: 4.0k┊part one┊masterlist

a/n: i’m sorry but i’m laughing so hard at the cute ass pictures i chose only for you to look down and see the huge paragraph of warnings lmaoo… anon, this one is for you (and for me), you’re welcome!! this was a blast to write even if it did take me forever ♡

it was the day after soobin was crowned the best baker who ever lived, a monday, and the tensions in the competition were at an all time high. you thought you were competing hard before, but it was nothing compared to the all out war you and soobin we’re having right now.

mrs, choi had left the two of you in charge of the bakery while she ran to get some more ingredients and various other things that the bakery needed. honestly, it really didn’t help your competition. everytime one of you had to take your turn up at the register, you would bring the mess from the back of the bakery with you.

dry ingredients was all over the floor near the register. you and soobin were covered in everything under the sun. when mrs. choi had come back, she almost dropped the bags she was carrying in shock. once the two of you had finished all the orders for the day—which didn’t take you all that long at the pace you both were going—mrs. choi pulled you both aside, scolding you and telling you to stay late to clean up. it’s safe to say she wasn’t that happy, though you had to hold in your laugh when she was scolding soobin and flour kept falling from his hair as he nodded.

now you and soobin were near each other, brooms in hand, trying to get the flour and sugar off the floor and failing miserably. “why is this actually impossible?” you asked aloud as you tried to sweep the flour but it only kept spreading. you sighed in defeat and went to wipe off the counters instead.

“i know, it’s making me almost regret going so hard in the competition today…” soobin trailed. so far, soobin had the most points this week. he was washing a huge pile of dishes and looked like wanted to die because of it. you giggled at him as you picked up discarded dough and threw it in the trash.

at least the two of you weren’t a mess anymore. mrs. choi made the two of you go home and shower before coming back. it was a little weird coming back to the bakery while the sun was just over the horizon. the blinds in front of the windows were pulled down and the open sign was turned to closed. the hanging stars were glowing softly when you came to the back to begin cleaning.

once the bakery was finally clean and you and soobin were putting the cleaning supplies away, he suddenly asked, “what’s my prize?” you turned to him, a confused look on your face as you put away the broom. soobin was leaning back on the counter next to the register, a slight pout on his lips.

“what do i get for being crowned the best baker who ever lived?” he asked, his question clearer. there was a hint of a teasing smirk on his face, which you rolled your eyes slightly to. then a thought occurred to you, a mischievous grin forming on your lips. you strolled to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

you hummed softly. “i’m thinking something soft…” you trailed as you look up at him through hooded eyes. “something warm…” you trailed your fingers down soobin’s chest slowly, continuing until you were a couple of inches above the waistband of his sweatpants. soobin’s eyes followed the motion. your eyes flickered up to him to see he was watching your hand intently, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“something you can fill…” you leaned in to say lowly as you looked into his eyes. you felt something hard against your thigh as soobin’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist. you brought your lips inches from his ear. “would you like that?” you whispered seductively, breath fanning lightly on his neck. goosebumps formed seconds later and you smirked slightly as you pressed feather light kisses to his jawline.

you moved the arm that was still around his neck to cup his face, staring up at him with doe eyes. soobin’s lips were on yours hungrily. his fingertips pressed into the small of your back and you let out a soft moan. your hand lightly palmed the bulge in his sweatpants and soobin backed away your lips, whimpering slightly as he pressed his forehead to yours. “y/n…” he breathed, his breaths were coming out short as you continued your palming.

smiling slightly against his lips, you pulled away and dropped to your knees in front of him, keeping your eyes on his. if the bakery windows weren’t covered right now, it would be a sight to see. “fuck…” he muttered lowly, barely audible for you to hear. the tips of his ears and his cheeks were a deep pink. you hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled softly, eyes still on his. he squeezed his eyes shut briefly, “please, y/n…”

you were one to oblige. you grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers and pulled them down slowly. soobin’s fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so hard that they were turning white. soobin’s cock sprang up, free from the restraints of his clothes, and bounced lightly off his lower abdomen.

you stared at it with wide eyes. you weren’t expecting soobin’s cock to be so… huge, you had no idea how you were gonna fit it all in your mouth like you originally intended. soobin let out a soft whimper as you started lightly pumping his shaft with both hands. precum trailed down the tip of his cock and you lapped it up.

soobin let out a loud moan, throwing his head back briefly. he looked down at you, eyes glazed. “s-stop teasing…” soobin managed as you continued to pump him and kitten lick his head. he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you closer. you giggled, the vibrations making him let out another moan, and put him in your mouth slowly. you definitely weren’t going to be able to take all of him, at about half way you were basically deepthroating him. soobin let out a shuddering breath, “please y/n… i need— need you to start moving.” you did as you were told, moving your mouth up and down his shaft slowly.

you could tell soobin was close when his head fell and his cock started to twitch in your mouth. his breathing was heavy and the grip on your shoulder tightened. soobin moved the hand from your shoulder to the back of your head. “i’m so… close… faster…” he whined as he softly moved your head. you wrapped a hand at the base of his shaft and started pumping as you sucked him off faster.

the cord finally snapped and you felt warm liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. you hummed, continuing your motions as you helped soobin ride out his high. he was a whimpering mess in front of you. you pulled soobin’s cock out your mouth slowly, staring up at him as you swallowed his cum. that almost undid him again completely as he moaned your name softly between haggard breaths.

soobin cupped your face and pulled you to your feet, crashing his lips onto yours. it was sloppy and desperate as he slid his hands down your waist and to your thighs. he hooked his hands under them and lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his bare waist. the tip of his dick brushed against your ass and you rocked your hips at the touch. you needed him. needed his huge cock inside you, filling you up, begging you to break. soobin moaned against your lips, sending a shiver up your spine.

you were backed against the wall where the chalkboard menu was as you and soobin hungrily kissed each other. you pushed your hips off the wall and towards his needily. pulling away, you let out a moan and soobin’s lips immediately found your neck, sucking down on it. moving your neck so he could get better access, you whimpered as he found your sweet spot. “soobin…”

soobin hummed as he pressed kisses to the sensitive marks. you shivered slightly. “need you… please…” you whined as his tip brushed against you again. you were sure the panties you wore were soaked and soobin had barely even touched you. soobin trailed his kisses from your neck to your cheek. you hardly felt him move you to the back of the bakery, too drunk on his lips on yours.

it wasn’t until you were bent over the ingredients table, soobin pulling your leggings and wet panties down and discarding them off to the side somewhere, that you realized you were in a different part of the bakery. you gasped at the sudden exposure and looked back to soobin. he pressed his body up against you, his dick rubbing against your ass. soobin looked down at you, desire swirling in his eyes. he placed his hands on your hips as you grinded back onto him, needing some sort of friction.

soobin put his head in the crook of your neck as you whimpered. “you know how i got the title of the greatest baker alive?” soobin asked you lowly, lips coming to your ear. he held your hips in place when you tried to grind back on him again and instead lifted one of your legs onto the table. soobin pressed light kisses across your back until he was at your other ear. one of his hands trailed from your hip down to your clit. he started rubbing small circles onto it. you arched your back, moaning his name as you melted underneath him. “by being good with my hands,” soobin continued, whispering in your other ear. his breath fanned your neck as his fingers traveled further.

you looked back to him, a desperate look on your face, as you grinded back on him again. his hard cock rubbed slightly on your entrance and you fell down onto the table at the euphoria. using the hand that was on your hip, soobin trails it up under your shirt and up your stomach as he pulls you up and back towards him until your head is leaning against his chest. his hand cups your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple slightly. your shirt rises at the action, exposing your other breast to the cold wind. “would you like to see how good i am with my hands?”

whimpering at his touch, all you can do is look up into his eyes and nod. “let me hear your pretty words, baby.” soobin speaks as he rubs his two long fingers against your entrance. you’re breathing heavily and it takes you everything you have to push out words. “p-please…”

soobin’s fingers halt its movements. “please what?” you take your lip between your teeth and bite down hard and inhale sharply at the loss of friction. “please soobin—” your head falls slightly and soobin takes the hand from your breast and tilts it back up so you’re staring at him again. “show… show me how— how good you are…” you finally push out. soobin gives you a satisfied smile and presses his lips to yours at the same time as he pushes two slender fingers into you.

gasping loudly against his lips, your knees almost buckled had it not been for the fact that soobin was holding you up. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, trying to go slowly but you were so wet his fingers quickly became slick with your arousal, moving faster than intended. “fuck y/n… you’re so wet. and it’s all for me.”

soobin locked his lips with yours, keeping you against him as kept fucking you so you wouldn’t double over. his long fingers then curled against your walls, hitting just the right spot. you moaned against his lips, “don’t stop… d-don’t—”

the difference between how soobin was kissing you and how he was fingering you sent your head into even more of a daze. he was kissing you so slowly, so softly as his fingers pushed in and out of you relentlessly. it had you clenching around him as the squelching sounds and your desperate moans and whimpers filled the room. “i won’t, baby, i won’t.”

your body shuddered as your back arched suddenly. you pulled away from soobin’s lips as you struggled to breathe. “gonna cum…” you trailed off breathily. soobin continued his pumping and started rubbing your nipple again. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck. you felt his smile when you shivered from it. “cum for me, darling. all over my fingers.”

drowning in the pleasure soobin was giving you, you came all over his fingers just like he told you to. soobin didn’t stop, in fact he started fucking you with his fingers faster. your hands clenched against the table as you moaned his name, completely fucked out.

soobin took his fingers out of you, holding it in front of you to see as the remaining white liquid dripped out of you and down your thigh. his whole hand was dripping with your release, drops of it falling onto the table. “look at how good you did, baby. you took my fingers so well.” you took his hand, staring up at him through glazed and hooded eyes, and put his wet fingers in your mouth. you smiled lazily at him as you pull them out slowly, relishing in the way his eyes widen a fraction. soobin took his thumb and dragged it across your bottom lip and chin, picking up the cum that dripped onto it. he pushed his thumb into your mouth and you gladly sucked the cum off of it. soobin placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, his tongue dancing in your mouth as he tasted your arousal.

he pulls away and turns you around, pushing you down gently onto the table by your shoulders and lifting your legs onto it. “i wanna see your pretty face when i fuck you.” you lean back to one side on your elbow, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you reach for his cock and pump it slowly. “soobin… i need you… inside me…” you whimper.

soobin spreads your legs and pushes them towards your chest as he leans forward and kisses you. pulling away, he looks at you with genuine concern. “are you sure you can take it all?” you nod rapidly. instead of his cock, soobin pushes three fingers into you. he does it with ease as he slowly moves them in and out of you, leaning forward and kissing you.

whining against his lips, you buck your hips up, which causes his fingers to go deeper into you. you cried out in pleasure. “please… i need it,” you moan. soobin chuckles as he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, you groan at the sight, head falling back against the wall. he takes his cock and lines it up with your entrance, rubbing it with his tip a little. “you want my cock?” you buck your hips again, a whimper escaping your lips.

soobin laughs softly and pushes his thick cock into you slowly, his head flying back as he let out a moan as you stretch around him. his cock is inside you halfway when he stops, letting you adjust. he leans down to kiss you as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

once you adjust, he starts moving slowly, only ever putting half of him inside you. you arch your back, getting used to how much he already fills you up. you’re already close to cumming again and soobin can tell as your walls clench around him and your legs shake. his hands are against the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut briefly. you grind up against him and it almost takes the both of you out. his head falls as he places his hands flat on the table and your brows scrunch up as you both let out an entangled moan.

soobin takes his cock out from inside you and you whine at the loss. he laughs lowly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and to your core. his fingers stop rubbing your clit and tears prick at your eyes from how badly you need the sensation back. “you want it that badly?” soobin asks you lowly, his voice soft as he leans down close to your lips. all you can do is lean your head against the wall and nod.

“let me hear your words, baby.” soobin continues his slow circles on your clit.

“please…” you whisper desperately, running your hands through his hair and pulling a little so that it pulls his head back. “i-i need your cock… badly…” soobin moaned softly and you chased his lips, needing his lips on yours, as you clawed at his back. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then pulled away from you fully. soobin then takes his other hand and grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even get you time to moan at the new angle your clit is being rubbed at before he shoves his cock back inside you, completely bottoming out. you gasp as the sudden feel of him, back arching and hips rolling involuntarily.

soobin gives you a second of adjustment before he thrusts sharply into you. you let out a loud cry of pleasure as you melt under him. soobin continues his quick thrusts into you, making sure he pulls all the way out until just his tip is inside you before slamming back into you again. he holds your leg to his chest tightly and the slow circles on your clit become fast ones. you're a whimpering mess under him, only being able to moan his name, as you grip onto the edge of the table desperately.

“is this what you want? for me to fuck you like this?” soobin asks you through pants, pummeling into you faster. you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, crying out as you feel yourself cum again and your back arches more. soobin fucks the cum back into you. you whine, barely nodding, as your clit grows more and more sensitive from his circling. your breaths are coming out haggard under his unrelenting movements and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts grow sloppier and his hips jerk.

soobin takes his hand from your clit and you finally get a full breath in. your brain is foggy with pleasure and you see that his is too. his eyes are glazed over as he stares down at his cock entering and exiting you. the sounds coming from your bodies are downright pornographic. the wetness as soobin fucks mercilessly into you, your skin slapping hard against each other, the creaking of the table under you, and the loud, desperate moans and whimpers that are leaving the both of your lips. it’s all too much. so much that it almost makes you cum again and you lean your head back, tears in your eyes, to look at the ceiling.

soobin suddenly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. “speak up, baby. tell me how you want me to fuck you.” he says low and breathily. you stare at him through your lashes, breathy moans coming from your mouth as you shake violently under him from another orgasm.

“i-i want you to fuck me hard…” you manage, “senseless…” a satisfied grin plays on his lips as he pulls your face towards him for a deep kiss that quickly turns sloppy as he releases into you, filling you up even more to the point where cum is dripping out of you and onto the table.

soobin’s kisses turn soft as his thrusts slow to a stop and he whispers words of praise in your ear. you’re both panting and sweaty at the whole exchange as you pull away from each other. soobin holds you close, cock still inside you, as your shaking ceases and he rubs circles into your back. “you did so good for me, darling. you took my cock so well. i’m proud of you.” once you’re still again, he wipes the stray tears that escaped from your eyes off your cheeks and cups your face, pressing feather light kisses on your eyes. he brings his forehead to yours and gives you a soft kiss on the nose that you giggle at as you lean back on your hands.

finally, soobin pulls out of you and releases a river of cum with it onto the table that drips down to the floor. he smirks down at it before looking back at you, his smirk growing at how fucked out you look. you barely even register the smirk. it disappears as his eyes then go soft, cupping your face again.

“too much?” soobin asked, concern lacing his voice. you remove your leg from his shoulder, the feeling of stickiness intensifying. you shook your head as a dazed smile spreads across your lips. “it was just enough. it was perfect.” you lean over to kiss him and soobin chuckles against your lips.

“what are you gonna do about all of this?” you ask and motion down to your half naked bodies covered in cum. your legs are still spread to avoid sticking them together. the bottom of soobin’s shirt and his sweatpants were ruined with the amount of cum on them. there was cum on your shirt too and you didn’t even know where your leggings and panties were.

“how are we gonna clean up all this cum and go back out into society i think is the better question.” soobin responded, his cheeks flushed. you giggled, and he looks back up to you. “i didn’t know i’d do this good of a job…” you press light kisses to his cheeks.

soobin grabs a warm wet napkin and cleans you up, making sure to be extra gentle. he laughs softly when you twitch from the sudden wetness. he helps you off the table, avoiding the liquids on the ground, and cleans himself off after. you pull your shirt down and look around for your bottoms as soobin pulls up his boxers and sweatpants.

“nice outfit,” you laugh, pulling up your leggings. soobin looks down at the dried cum and laughs. “i could say the same to you,” he replies. he grabs your hips and pulles you close, his arms then wrapping around your waist. you wrapped yours around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“you’re not sore?” he asks softly, “not hurting anywhere?” you press a kiss to his cheek that causes a dimpled smile to show up. you pressed another to his lips. “not hurting anywhere and not sore… yet…” you giggled softly at him. “you don’t have to be so concerned, i’m okay!” after assuring him a couple more times, soobin finally believed you.

it’s safe to say that the two of you had to stay even longer after hours than expected cleaning everything again and fixing the chalkboard menu. you also had to leave the bakery wearing your aprons. for the rest of the week—and honestly, permanently after—soobin was worshiping the ground you walked on.

of course, you had told your best friend sunoo about the events and he almost screamed in the middle of chaconne, flowers flying everywhere. “you’re welcome!” he said, crossing his arms smugly with a satisfied grin. you had to once again remind him that he had no part in your relationship. “i’m the one who told you about the bakery! without me, you’d never get any creampies!” he winked and gave you a pointed look towards your neck that were covered with hickeys badly hidden with a scarf.

you hid your face in your hands as heat spread across it. maybe it was a bad idea telling sunoo about you and soobin having sex…

the shift after at the bakery was awkward to say the least. you both could barely focus on the goods you were making or the competition because you kept thinking about the previous night’s events. the two of you had forgotten about the cameras and soobin had to run to erase the footage before his mom checked them. that surely would’ve been an awkward conversation to have that you were glad was avoided.

the both of you did watch it before deleting it, though, and watching the two of you have sex was a whole other experience. one that you often brought up everytime you wanted to catch soobin off guard and see his pretty cheeks tinged pink.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part one┊request rules ⋆｡˚ ᝰ -﹏-

[nyctoaerah]

TWTWTWTWTWTW: GORE TWTWTWTWTW

Hi, I love the Yandere Gojo series! I'd like to make a request. My request: Yandere Gojo gives his non-sorcerer lover the worst punishment he's ever seen in his life because she keeps trying to run away… he makes her unable to move or run again. either amputation or broken bones. But in the end, he regrets it very much.

⋆♱⋆REMINISCENT

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Yandere (duh) bone breaking, Surgery stuff, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder, Both Reader and Satoru ended up having shared psychosis disorder. Satosugu.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Non-sorcerer reader. Satosugu.

⋆♱⋆NOTE: okokok, i know that you didn’t requested satosugu anon, but there’s a reason why there’s satosugu in here, and it’s important in the plot. Hope you understand<3. Broken bones is already a bad punishment, but i’ll add a twist on it;) Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Please do support me in wattpad and quotev too<3 i suck at doing angst, sooo.... Idk.. might make a part 2 though.

MASTERLIST

HE WASN’T THE MAN that you once knew, no longer the gentle soul who showered you with affection. The bond you shared over four years had been pure, filled with love and warmth, until that cursed night , Twenty fourth of December in 2017.

Satoru’s mental state appeared to deteriorate drastically ever since that day. The once warm and affectionate gaze he used to cast on you had now transformed into a cold and distant stare, devoid of any tender emotions.   

Sometimes he would blame non-sorcerers like yourself too, grumbling things under his breath like

“You non-sorcerers are the reason why suguru went spiraling”

You didn’t grasp the true meaning of this statement until you did a little digging into Satoru’s past. It was then that you realized you had been living in a state of blissful ignorance.

And after learning about his troubles, instead of scolding him for his erratic behavior and pushing him away, you chose to approach him with kindness and understanding—You felt bad, for you would mostly just yell at him for acting like that, when you didn’t knew the reason why he was like that.

You made every effort to comfort him and show him that you cared deeply for him, to show him how apologetic you are for being so ignorant. However, at times, you also confronted him with harsh truths in order to bring him back to reality. 

In these moments of brutal honesty, Satoru took notice of the uncanny similarities between you and Suguru. From the way you conducted yourself to the gestures you made, tie your hair up, everything seemed to echo Suguru’s presence.

The way you spoke, moved, the way your lips would curl up into a smile, the way you would laugh and interacted with others all carried a trace of Suguru’s aura.

And your voice, fuck, the softness of your voice was reminiscent of the way suguru’s voice would soften whenever he talks to satoru.

Despite lacking a clear physical resemblance, the essence of Suguru seemed to radiate from you in all aspects of your actions.

And perhaps, it’s the way that you managed to make him see suguru in you was what made him so obsessed with you. He saw echoes of his beloved friend in your every gesture, your every word. Sometimes, in a strange mixture of jest and earnestness, he would playfully dub you and Suguru, as if to merge the two of you into one entity. Sometimes he would joke about you being suguru’s genderbend.

You found it peculiar yet endearing at first, dismissing it as a harmless quirk borne from grief, as you had always seen it as his coping mechanism. Little did you know, this oversight would prove to be your gravest mistake.

Despite the warning signs he showed, his redflags, you somehow chose to endure it all.

And that was your biggest mistake.

His once-charming gestures now morphed into suffocating constraints, possessiveness, obsessiveness. Slowly but surely, he isolated you from the outside world, severing even the most basic ties of communication with your own family.

Your past talking stage and lovers would be either found dead or missing without any trace. The friends who once stood by your side now regarded you with wary glances, distancing themselves.

Of course, you felt a deep sense of sadness, believing there was a flaw within yourself. And seeking solace and understanding, you opened up to Satoru, shedding tears as you shared the studf that you were facing in your life. In your moments of vulnerability, he offered you comfort, reassuring you that he was all you needed and that you should distance yourself from other individuals. He warned you that these individuals posed a threat to your well-being, emphasizing that their intentions were harmful—and insisting that he was the only one that you need.

As much as you wanted to believe Satoru and trust him completely, your innate intuition stopped you from fully buying into his facade. Because despite his convincing demeanor, a lingering sense of unease tugged at the back of your mind, suggesting that something wasn’t quite right.

Moreover, Satoru showed a tendency to involve himself in even the most mundane of tasks, such as brushing your hair, typically tasks you would manage alone. It seemed as though he viewed you as some kind of doll, someone he could manipulate and control at his own whim. He made sure to always be in close proximity to you, refusing to give you any moments of solitude. The only instances where he allowed you some privacy were during bathing or changing, and even then, he seemed reluctant to leave your side.

His obsession became so intense that he became insistent on your constant presence by his side, whether he was on a mission, teaching, or interacting with colleagues. His students and coworkers all recognized the unhealthy attachment, with Shoko and even Megumi expressing pity towards you for being caught in Satoru’s suffocating love. Despite the visible discomfort from all parties involved, Satoru remained unmoved, justifying his actions to keep you close at all times.

Even when Shoko attempted to reason with him and knock some sense into his fucked up mind, Satoru would manipulate the situation to shift blame onto them, for separating him with suguru—and that they’re the reason why he only has you now.

Nanami also tried to intervene by trying to convince the higher ups to arrange dangerous solo missions for Satoru in hopes of separating you two, but his stubbornness prevailed.

Maki and Nobara also attempted to intervene, even organizing girls’ nights as a means of providing you with a break from Satoru, yet their efforts were futile. 

Ultimately, the support from those aware of the situation—Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, Shoko, Maki, and others—proved futile in alleviating the troubling dynamic with Satoru. Despite their best intentions and efforts, your circumstances remained unchanged due to Satoru's unyielding obsession on keeping you with him.

Everyone knew how fucked up he was, but what can they do?

Satoru is the strongest after all.

Your parents weren’t even aware of your situation, as you were not allowed to talk or visit them.

One instance stands out in your memory, when you attempted to say that you want to speak with your parents, and he adamantly refused, claiming it was too perilous. Despite feeling frustrated at the time, you ultimately acquiesced to his wishes. The following day though, a horrifying discovery awaited you— the lifeless bodies of your parents. It was at this moment that you began connecting the dots, reflecting on the untimely death and murder of your previous partners, the gradual alienation of your friends, the look of pity his students and colleagues gives you, the persistent reasoning of people trying to separate you from satoru, his increasing control over your actions, and the coincidental deaths of those you sought to interact with. 

The realization dawned on you that all of these  events were orchestrated by Satoru himself, with the sole intention of keeping you entirely under his influence. And an overwhelming sense of fear crept into your chest, prompting you to devise a plan to escape while he was on a mission. 

----𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆

Your entire body was engulfed in pain and weariness, each muscles contracting in pain, your breaths labored and shallow as if your lungs were about to give out—About to rupture, and a searing sensation in your chest as it tightens, heaving with each labored breath you took.

Your feet were raw and bloody, multiple cuts on it from the jagged edges of rocks you have stepped on, perspiration was all over your body in rivulets, and a dry, scratchy feeling in your throat due to lack of moisture and oxygen.

Everything burned, yet you persisted in moving forward, walking a fine line between imminent collapse and the urgent need to evade getting caught by Satoru—your boyfriend.

Rather than face capture, you were willing to risk death in your desperate attempt to escape.

You’d rather die trying to escape than live without trying to fight for your freedom.

The exhaustion consuming you mattered little, all that occupied your mind was the need to break free from his grasp and his control over you.

The passage of time was a blur, perhaps an hour had passed since you began running, your energy waning as your vision blurred with fatigue. 

Lost in the vast unknown surroundings, it seemed as though you were trapped in a never-ending loop. Uncertain of your location in Japan, the isolated landscape consisted only of a sprawling mansion, trees, and barren land devoid of any signs of human life. It felt as though you had been completely cut off from civilization.

As you continued running, tears streaming down your face, your mind were spinning and every hair on your body stood on end at the sound of his voice suddenly booming.

“Hm? Is that you that i see there, [Name]?”

You froze.

“What have I told you about leaving without my permission?”

The sound of Satoru's voice sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in your tracks. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to keep moving, to escape his reach, but the fear of his wrath paralyzed you in place.

“S-satoru.. what are you doing here...?” 

You couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to be here when he was supposed to be on a mission. Your mind raced with confusion and disbelief.

“No, what are you doing here?” He asks, staring down at you coldly.

“Are you.. trying to run away?” He questioned you as he stepped closer to you.

Your breath hitched, throat constricting as you looked up at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

“I-i..”

“I-i wasn’t i swear—”

You were left speechless as you were suddenly shoved you down, causing your head to hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood trickled down your forehead as a cry of pain escaped your throat. 

His gaze bore down on you with a chilling intensity, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re trying to leave me..”

“I trusted you,” he whispered shakily.

“How could you? I made sure to go back as soon as possible after my mission was finished so that you won’t be in danger... And now you’re running away and putting yourself in danger?”

Out of nowhere, his hand tightly gripped your throat, squeezing with such force that it became difficult to breathe, leading to a sensation of suffocation and a blurred vision.

“S-satoru n-nnh! L-let go!”

Struggling to break free, you frantically attempted to pry his fingers off your neck, letting out choked screams in the process. Your body thrashed around violently, desperately trying to fend him off by kicking in all directions. 

“You’re really just like suguru... always trying to resist..” 

“I trusted you,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice cracking.

“But what have you done?” he asked shakily.

His pupils trembled like leaves in a fierce wind, his entire frame quivering with an unsettling intensity. Those piercing sapphire eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine in the dim, eerie stillness of the forest.

“L-let go p-please satoru!” You begged.

“P-please. A-ahn.. let g-go, ‘Toru, please,”

“T-toru, haaah, i-i c-can’t breathe”

He seemed to pause at that when you called him “Toru.” 

And slowly, his grasp slackened, leaving you gasping for precious breath as your lungs desperately clawed for every molecule of air.

You coughed, again and again and again, and he just watched you.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you turned to look at him, your face contorted in anger abd fear.

“Y-you’re crazy satoru,” Your voice emerged hoarse and jagged.

“You’re crazy, i swear” You rasped as you dragged yourself away from him, only for him to close the distance.

 “Crazy?” he repeated.

“Yes, crazy for love.” His fervor seemed to border on mania.

“Yes I’m Enamored, Suguru.” he professed with an almost unsettling zeal, his voice now carrying a hauntingly romantic lilt as though the torment he inflicted on you was an act of devotion.

Your breath hitched.

“What...?” your eyes widened.

“I’m not... Suguru...” Your voice faltered, delicate lips quivering. Pain pulsed through every fiber of your being, urging you to run away, yet how could you escape from one so consumed by his own distorted reality? Satoru appeared to be in a haze, his eyes vacant and unseeing—He was in his delusional state.

“Suguru, let’s go home..” Satoru mumbled.

You swallowed thickly. You were about to make a dumb move, but fuck, he really needed to snap out of it.

Gently, you cupped his face between trembling hands, hoping your tender touch might pierce the delirium and make him snap out of it.

“Please, ‘Toru, focus on the sound of my voice. It’s not suguru, it’s me”

But he remained ensnared in his twisted visions, oblivious to reality.

“...Satoru... ‘Toru, listen to me. I’m not suguru.”

“I’m not him. I’m [Name], your girlfriend...”

Again, and again and again, you tried to convince him that you’re not suguru.

“I’m [Name], the one that you met at the bakery that you liked so much... And i’m not suguru ”

You phrased it in different words.

And yet...

He was still lost in it.

“What are you saying suguru?”

Dread constricted your heart, each moment bringing you closer to the brink. To flee would surely send him into a frenzy but to stay would probably result in suffering. 

“Don’t say things like that... Suguru”

he whispered.

“I still haven’t forgave you for running away.” He uttered, and a pit formed on your stomach.

“I’m [Name], not suguru—Toru... Please, fuck, snap out of it”

He ignored you as he gently caressed your cheek before guiding your head towards his for a kiss. Your heart pounded as your lips met, the sharp sting of his teeth on yours making you whimper.

“S’toru... Stop...”

When he didn’t stop, you reacted by biting his tongue hard, making it bleed. Surprisingly, this did not deter him; instead, he released a soft moan of pleasure. 

“Oh fuck... You’re still the same as always, suguru.”

You gasped as he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Sa-Satoru... What the fuck..?” You shrieked. Why the hell did he said that? Does this meant that... He was in a previous relationship with Suguru? Did he used you as a rebound? No, fuck, he sees suguru in you.

You understand it now.

“I’ll make sure you don’t do it again,” He whispered.

“Huh?”

“Make sure that you don’t massacre a whole ass village again so that they won’t separate you from me...”

Slowly, deliberately, his other hand drifted downward toward your ankle. Your heart drops as you felt him do that.

Oh fuck, he’s not planning on snapping your ankles, is he?

“Satoru, no, no, no, no, no!”

You strained against his crushing hold, but could only witness in horror as his fist closed around the delicate bones.

“If you do that, i’ll never forgive you— AHHH!”

A strangled scream caught in your throat as you felt the unmistakable snap of your ankle splintering beneath his strength.

White-hot pain lanced up your leg and your vision blurred with tears of misery. Before you could process the pain of the first break, his hand was upon your other ankle. You knew what was coming yet were powerless to prevent it. Another sickening crack reverberated through your shattered nerves as satoru callously contorted the joint beyond its limits. Bone fragmented, muscle tore, and ligaments ripped apart, leaving your legs crippled and limp.

----𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

His fingers pressed insistently beneath your chin, a mixture of gentle caress and firm control as he meticulously groomed your hair, each stroke designed to emulate the exact style of Suguru’s locks.

Tying it back partially, he sought to replicate every minute detail, ensuring you bore an eerie resemblance to his obsession—Suguru. But the true horror lay in his pervasive fixation upon you as Suguru incarnate. He paid face surgeons to sculpt and mold  your face until the reflection in the mirror bore a warped semblance to Suguru’s features, he would drape you in Suguru’s attire and bestowing upon you the very essence of his fucking bestfriend.

And the worst of it all? he managed to find suguru’s daughters and practically forced you to take care of them—like the way suguru would take care of them. Even suguru’s daughters were horrified — yet they were too scared to even refuse.

All of the horrors that he had made you go through broke you completely.

“Perfect,” he murmured with a self-satisfied hum, stepping back to survey his handiwork.

You just sat there, disoriented, and feeling hollow as an empty shell.

Stripped of your true identity and coerced into being someone else you weren’t. The drugs he administered clouded your mind, the brainwashing eroding your sense of self until you could no longer discern who you are. The only thing you knew is that you’re suguru.

It was a bad punishment, real, real bad punishment.

Your identity was snatched, and you were no longer yourself.

He furrows his brow, observing the silence that hangs between you.

“C’mon speak, suguru.” he urges, his gaze piercing into yours.

“Isn’t it perfect?”

Suddenly, a flicker of realization dances in his eyes as they narrow, scrutinizing the subtle yet noticable difference between your eyes and suguru. The shift is imperceptible to most, but to him, it is a glaring anomaly that demands attention.

A smirk curls onto his lips

“Seems like we need to adjust those eyes of yours as well, huh? Don’t you agree, suguru ?” 

Satoru sighed as his calloused fingers tangled themselves in thick ebony locks, pulling your motionless form taut against his chest. An ichor-cold sense of wrongness had settled itself deep in his marrow, its barbs tearing at his insides. 

His beloved Suguru was already here... But... Where is his [Name]?

“Nanako and Mimiko would be upset to see you like this suguru...”

​​​​​RING

RING

Satoru blinked at the sudden shrill clamor emanating from his phone—and he realized that someone was calling him, still cradling your form  against his chest with a singular hand. He took the device from his trousers one-handed, calloused fingers opening his phone.

When at last the lock screen dissolved into view, an icy shiver seized his marrowed bones. 

It was you—in your normal self, kissing him in the cheek, and you two looked very happy.

Why did suddenly felt wrong?

...

... It felt wrong...

So, so wrong.

Why did nostalgia for your genuine self now claw so vehemently at the fissures in his heart, when only Suguru had the right to reside there?  

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ BROKEN FRAGMENTS

ᯓ★ Kurt finds you hurting yourself. Graphic description of cuts and scars/gore (?), SH, comfort, can be read as platonically or intimately. Reader is fem!! (I do not condone to anything in this fic. I just wanted to provide comfort to those who need the love they deserve.)

۫ ꣑ৎ Please reach out to someone if you're going through a tough time. Do not suffer in silence. YOU deserve to feel safe just like many others. Warning, this may be triggering for some so PLS DONT FORCE YOURSELF TO READ IF ITS TOO MUCH

ᯓ★

How you found yourself starting this habit was like a haze. You don't remember it all that well, but the emotions, the overwhelming emotion of guilt and pain always made it feel like it was just yesterday.

You had your reasons to carry out such acts.

But you knew that those reasons weren't an excuse for this.

Deep down you knew it was bad... but if it's bad, why does it make you feel so much better?

Should you feel guilty for wanting to be better?

After all, you never really knew how to express yourself... it always felt like this was the only way for it.

You made your way through the corridors of the mansion. The others had went for a mission so it was just you left behind. Why you weren't chosen to go was unclear but you had a grudge on why.

You tried your hardest to ignore it but you can feel how everybody was beginning to worry about you.

Moments where they'd take short glances of you...

Asking you if you wanted to hangout more...

Even secret talks regarding your wellbeing...

You'd be an idiot if you chose to believe your change of behaviour wasn't taking its effects on the others. You just feel like you've lost the spark you used to have in you. But can they blame you when you no longer have the energy to fight?

You retreated to your room, sitting on your bed to stare at the ground for a good few seconds before letting out a sigh. You searched through your drawers, looking for the exact thing you needed to get your mind off of these thoughts.

You really wanna stop... but it's so hard to...

Your hand just itches each time...

Your mind was a race track where the thoughts won't stop until one finally crashes.

You pulled up the sleeve of your hoodie, collection of scars that went back to weeks ago. Maybe even months. You're not sure and you could care less about it.

One...

Two....

Three....

Four.........

You continued on, the sight of the blood made you feel alive again. It was like you've pulled the curtain aside to reveal what was behind it. Your flesh and blood. Your very proof of existence. To prove you were real and breathing.

However that moment of euphoria soon vanished... you stare, almost blankly at the cuts as the blood continued on dripping out.

Why do you never feel good enough?

When will the time come where this moment will just be a faded memory?

Why—

Suddenly there was a knock on the door but before you could respond, it opened by itself.

"(Y/N) I wanted to—"

The sight left him quiet. Kurt, who's smile was on his face dropped immediately the second he saw what was happening. You stare back, guilt heavy in your gaze as your face turned red.

Oh nononononono....

Whatdoyoudo?run??hide???kickhimout???

Before you can even think of how to act, he was the first to act, he took a few steps inside your room before closing the door shut behind him. He approaches you, carefully, almost like you were a wild animal he didn't wanna scare off because it was clear you felt tensed and afraid of how he may react.

Once he was close enough, he looked at you with a concerned expression on his face. It was visible to see that he was more worried about your wellbeing than anything right now.

"Do you wanna talk?" He knelt down in front of you, his eyes roamed over your body to see just how much harm you’ve done to yourself.

You look at him, afraid to speak. Afraid he may not understand and right away, he understood what you were trying to express in your eyes and he tilts his head with a sympathic smile.

"…I’m not angry at you" He said, a soft and understanding expression on his face as he looked at you.

Just then, Kurt slowly reaches out to you and places his hands over yours, gently prying the blade from your hands. Even though the sight of the blood on your hands worries him, he manages to keep a calm and relaxed demeanor for your sake.

"Shhh. It's okay...it's okay..." He mumbles to you in a soft comforting tone as he sets the blade aside and gently take your bloody hands back in his.

Even though some may get on his. It didn't matter, all that mattered to him, was making you feel okay.

Sensing you didn't have the strength to speak... and seeing the tears forming in your eyes. He caresses the sides of your face to wipe the tears away with his thumb. His touch was gentle and in a way it comforted you.

Your avoiding eyes finally locked with his, just to be met with his warm and soft yellow eyes that made your heart melt. Despite how seeing the slight fear in your own eyes made his heart ache, he manages to give you a soft smile.

"It's going to be okay..." He assured as he held you closely against his chest, gently rubbing your back in a soothing manner. He was slightly surprised at how small your body felt in his arms, but that just made him want to hold you more tightly in his arms and tell you that everything would be alright.

"You're not alone... I'm here for you. I promise..." He softly placed his hand on the back of your head and gently stroked your hair.

His words and how he was treating you made you feel seen.

Cared for.

Loved.

"I'm sorry" You tried to stop your tears but you were unable to hold everything in anymore. At the same time, the burn of the cut made your skin itch.

"Shhh... it's okay" He muttered, holding you tighter to have you cry on his chest.

"You don't have to apologize... Shhh... it's going to be alright..." He continued on stroking your hair comfortingly while he rest his head on top of yours.

Kurt hold you closely to his chest, his arms wrapped around you as you cried like your lungs were burning. His cheek was now rested against the top of your head and how he carried on to make gentle hushing noises in an attempt to soothe you made you feel appeased.

"You're safe... you're safe... I promise you’re safe with me" He said.

The room was quiet as you two remained in each other's arms. No amount of words could express how belonged you felt in his embrace. Even though your face was a mess of tears and snot, he didn't care if it was getting all over his shirt because none of that mess is equal to the situation you're in right now.

By the time you have calmed down, he felt it was the okay time to treat your scars now. Being as gentle as he could, he lifted your head so he could look at your self-inflicted wounds, his expression showing his concern but not a trace of judgement.

"Let me help you" He said softly, his voice just as gentle as his touch.

You watched when he got up to get a band aid kit from your closet. Then returning back on the bed, the mattress sinking back down from his weight. Kurt grabbed a piece of clean towel and you couldn't help but find the sight of him dapping it gently on your cuts with such focus touching.

After applying a thin layer of antibiotics, he took a roll of sterile gauze from inside the first-aid kit and gently wrapped the gauze around your hands and arms to help stop the bleeding and prevent further scarring if possible. His touch was firm but tender, his fingers carefully wrapping the gauze around your wounds.

Once he had finished bandaging your hands and arms, he gently cupped your face in his hands and looked at you with care in his eyes.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asked and you hesitated... then nodded.

Seeing you nod made him feel a bit relieved, but he could still sense that you were feeling vulnerable and fearful. He looks at you with a glint of hope.

"You don't have to tell me everything now... let's take it slowly... hm?" He said and you nodded again, a grateful smile on your face.

"Mein hübsches mädchen" He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours as he closes his eyes.

"Lieber Gott, bitte schütze dieses Mädchen vor allem Bösen und Schaden. Helft ihr, sich zu erholen und zu heilen. Schenke ihr Frieden und Trost in dieser schwierigen Zeit" He uttered, a prayer you assumed, his voice was small and hushed that it was comforting listening to him.

When he finally opened his eyes, he smiles at you, his fangs becoming noticeable as well.

"What do you say we raid the kitchen? Hm?" He asked and with that playful look on his face. It was hard to say no.

"Yeah..." You answered and he gave you one last squeeze of a hug.

"I know you're hurt and scared, mein liebling. But I promise I'll always be here for you. Together we can get through anything" He said, his words being enough to make you feel better now.

"Thank you"

Deep down you knew your habits would still haunt you but at least now you felt there was somebody there for you, to help and care for you.

Healing itself has no end but is a lifelong journey.

A journey Kurt is willing to go on with you.

[kiame-sama]

Distant Horizons (TWST Monster AU)

Warnings; short angst, sad lonely Shinigami wanting his Humans to come back, but knows they never will. My TWST Monster AU, Humans Are Extinct TWST AU, little bit of hope at the end but mostly angst,

~~~~~~~~

Each time another boat crossed the horizon, he knew in his heart of hearts that they would never come back. Each warm smile gifted to him by his trusting little wards etched into his memory as the last time he ever saw them so happy. Each soul returned to him, wailing and broken from the horrors they found beyond the horizon, unable to be saved in death as he could have saved them in life.

Why was it so difficult to let them go? They wanted to see the world and see the things that he could not show them, so why did it hurt so much each time they never came back?

Perhaps it was because he knew most did not last long beyond the shores of his island, far from the protection he blessed them with. Perhaps it was the idea that they met their fates screaming and begging for him to save them. Perhaps it was because he knew the soft Humans he loved would no longer be able to return to him.

Even as he stood on the shores of his home, looking out to the far off horizons, hoping beyond hope to see a familiar ship heading back home, he knew he would never get his wish.

How many years had passed since the last left? Was he to blame for the unfortunate ends so many met? If he had kept them safe on his island, would they have that same smile and trust for him or would they spit curses at him for refusing to let them see the world?

He once believed that to love something, he needed to let it go. To love these witty and fragile Humans, he needed to let them live their own lives and seek what lay beyond the horizon. Now, with nothing more than empty ruins where his soft little Humans once played, he wasn't so sure he was in the right anymore. He wasn't certain he would make the same choice to let them go if he were given the chance to choose again.

If he chose to keep them safe and contained in his own home, would they still look at him with that boundless trust and love?

"Papa Hades?"

The voice was a soft and comforting one, that of his youngest descendant Ortho- or a very good hologram of his, as the child was currently away at school- speaking through the visual and audio link. All of his lineage called him that, even the little Humans he loved called him 'Papa Hades' and he longed to hear it again from the soft voice of a fragile Human. The voices he would never hear beyond the wailing souls he had to lay to rest.

"Yes, child?"

His dark cloak of mourning- weaved from the very shadows and held together by the tears he wept for his lost lambs- billowed slightly in the winds from the sea. It had adorned his form for a long time and had been in place since the last Human in his care drew their last breath. It was as much a part of him now as the grief he carried in his heart.

"There's something I think you should know."

"And what would that be, child?"

"A Human interrupted the sorting ceremony at Night Raven College."

His world screeched to a halt and he could feel his chest begin to swell and constrict with long forgotten hope. Had he heard that right? Could it possibly be?

"... What?"

"A Human, like those ones that used to live here, somehow got to Night Raven College and lives there now! I think the Headmage said something about her staying there and being kept safe there, but Idi-nii said I should tell you first!"

A Human? After all this time, there was still one left alive? Impossible, it just couldn't be. He shouldn't get his hopes up. No doubt it was just a case of mistaken identity-

"She's really nice! I got to talk to her today in potions class and spent my morning talking to her! Idi-nii and I are going to be guards for her in a few days, since Idi-nii is a Housewarden, so we thought you would want to know!"

"Is she truly... a Human?"

"Yeah! She doesn't have any magic and is super soft and looks different from everyone. She doesn't even look like professor Divus or a Selkie without fur! The Headmage said we have to protect her because a bunch of Poachers keep showing up on school grounds looking for her, so I thought maybe you could help us guard her if she says it's okay?"

"... It would be my most esteemed honor."

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Wound patching headcanons with Adam, Lucifer, alastor, and vox? As in, patching their wounds? Getting all close and personal, taking care of them, kissing it better. You know, the good stuff 🫣🫣🤭

Adam

When he came back from hell, injured and bloodied, all thoughts left your mind; all you could think about was saving him.

Crying as you stitched up his stab wounds and hoped that Lute got him back home in enough time that he would live another day.

You were diligent and careful with every inch of his body as you worried that the man you loved would never return to you.

As he woke up, you felt immediate relief and held him close to you for days straight till he was strong enough again.

You let him have it once he was strong enough to handle physical activities. Your voice carried through the entirety of the angelic tower.

Once your rant about taking care of himself and the wrongness of extermination was over, he was happy to open his arms up for you.

Even though you tried hard to continue being mad, it was impossible not to climb into bed with him and hold him even longer.

Lucifer

When he had fallen, you also fell just inches behind him; you knew his wounds would far surpass yours. Where you willingly chose to fall with him, he was cast out.

Once safe and sheltered from most of the elements, you took tender care of his broken wings and tore up the body.

As you stitched him up and wrapped up deeper wounds, you sat above him, crying, hoping he would pull through this.

As he woke from his stooper, he caressed your face gently as you held his hand there, pouring all your emotions out to him.

He reprimanded you for falling with him but, in the same breath, mentioned how happy he was to have someone so devoted by his side.

As he healed, you two built up hell and gave those who had received free will a purpose.

Even though he sometimes blamed himself, he was so happy to have you beside him, fixing hell up one step at a time.

Alastor

He was picky about who got to see him so vulnerable and weak; he was not about to let others know that he could be harmed in such a manner.

When you showed up outside the radio tower, panicking after watching him disappear after a fatal blow. He couldn't deny the happiness he felt in his fleeting moments.

As you laid him down and tore open his suit, you made quick work of the large wound across his chest that Adam gave him.

You were stoic and focused on ensuring that he emerged from this alive with only a scar to tell the tale.

Once you had finished and he was doing better health-wise, you finally snapped and broke down in front of him, explaining your worries and fears.

He gently pulled you into a hug, resting his head atop yours, reminding you that he was alive and reminding himself he would be a goner without you.

When you two arrived back at the hotel, relief was felt through most of the others; however, you were happy that Alastor finally let down his walls with someone, especially since that someone was you.

Vox

Vox had suffered another beating from Alastor, something you were far more used to than you cared to admit.

He never got hurt enough that it required intense medical attention, but he did get his pride slapped around most of the time.

You sat delicately on his lap while he held your waist so you could gently fix up his screen

You were never a techy person, but you learned over the years how to replace his wiring and screens when things got bad like this.

Once he was all patched up, you sighed and rested your head on his shoulder, allowing the day's weight to catch up with you.

Worrying that you were now growing tired of him, Vox asked what was so wrong, only for you to pour out your heart and concerns he may get really hurt one of these times.

Feeling your genuine confession, he smiled softly and kissed you, reminding you that he fights for you to be safe and work free in his tower, but he would make an effort to come home scratched up less often.