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thankskenpenders · 2 days ago

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Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations

The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!

No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.

The updated Sonic Generations script

The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.

Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.

Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.

In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:

Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!

This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.

And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"

And then here's Ian's rewrite:

Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.

Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.

And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.

Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.

But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.

Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.

So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...

Gerald Robotnik's Journal

Hoo boy.

The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.

What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.

Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.

(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)

The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.

1) The Eclipse Cannon

Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.

Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.

See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)

Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.

Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.

(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)

2) The Biolizard

The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.

As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.

3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK

Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.

See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.

So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.

4) Maria

And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.

For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.

Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.

But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:

Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.

This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.

You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.

It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.

#tkp post #other media

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pacofprunes · 3 days ago

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THANOS & NAMGYU NONCON HEADCANONS

WARNINGS — noncon fucking everything, drugging, i mean it’s fucked up obviously, thanos & namgyu seperate headcanons

THANOS

never in a million years did he think he’d end up in a scenario like this. he’s had tiny thoughts of doing such things when he’s gotten rejected, but now that he’s actually doing it, oh he fucking loves it.

loves to manhandle you. holding your wrists tightly in one hand, forcing your legs around his neck, having the absolute tightest grip on your hair, he absolutely lives for it.

whispers sweet nothings into your ear like this is all normal. cooing at the tears spilling from your eyes.

“no need to cry, i’ll make ya�� feel realllll good.”

marks you up everywhere. hickeys, bites, bites that draw blood, marks and scratches on your hips from his grip on you when trying to keep you from getting away…

definitely slips a pill into your mouth when he kisses you, not pulling away until he knows you’ve swallowed it.

he would love to be able to make you ride him. holding your wrists behind your back while you bounce on him. if you refuse to do so however, he’ll take his other hand and grip your hair, pulling it up as high as possible so you have to make yourself move up to stop the pain and then he just pulls your hair right back down so you smack against his balls. after he’s done that a couple times, he’s sure you’ll decide to just bounce on him without his help.

he takes pictures and videos as a souvenir. presses a deep kiss against you and snaps a picture. he snaps a picture of you on top of him while he has the tightest grip on your wrists. films a slow video showcasing all of the marks littering your body before debating weather or not to post it to his highlights or his private story.

loves slapping your pussy and cupping it in his hands. it makes you flinch away from his dick and right back down on it, doing the work for him. makes his dick twitch so much.

occasionally he likes to let go and let you try to push him away, knowing all of your efforts will be futile. it makes him laugh. but don’t push him too much. if you hit him too hard, he might loose that playful fucked up persona and just be straight fucked up, quickly becoming insanely mean. if you slap him a little too hard on the face, oh, you better believe he’s slapping you ten times harder. and as soon as he’s done and the tears slip from your eyes, he cups the red spot on your cheek, giving you a pouty lip.

“baby, shouldn’t have hit me, don’t cry at something you did! you shouldn’t live with regrets.”

this won’t be a one time thing. in fact, he wants to be with you in a relationship. it’ll probably end after like three months until he misses the times like this and forces you back in him, but this is not the last time you’ll see him. he might even rent out a hotel for a week and force you to stay there with him within those days. he’ll let you leave after the weeks up and his moneys all out, but he’s still going to stay glued to your side. makes you introduce him to your parents like he’s this perfect boyfriend when really he’s made your life a living hell and you want nothing more than to get away from him. if you tell anybody what he’s doing, the next time that he takes a quick photo with his hands wrapped around your throat, he’ll be sure to keep them there instead of letting go. you won’t even get to tell your poor family goodbye.

NAMGYU

he doesn’t particularly have fantasies of doing shit like this, but he can’t handle rejection. he’s thinking of you the rest of the night, thinking about how much of a bitch you were for saying no to him and pushing him away, his friends teasing him and pissing him off even more causes him to go through and fuck you out of your mind weather you want him to or not.

he definitely drugs you. slipping a pill that he honestly barely knows what it is into your drink. the moment he notices you have a bit of a wobble in your step he pulls you away from everyone around, leaving you oh so vulnerable to him.

he has a hand on your mouth the entire time (or his dick in it.) he doesn’t feel like listening to you bitch.

loves seeing your tears and the fear in your eyes. he hopes he fucks you up for the rest of your life. hoping that if a guy you hate asks you out, you’ll think twice about rejecting them and saying no, remembering this moment.

he doesn’t feel like having to hold you down. he wants to press his hand into your hips while the other remains on your lips, so he just gives you a simple threat.

“there’s a knife in my back pocket, i’m sure you don’t want me to use it, right? right, so i’d suggest you don’t hit me or push me away and we’re all good.”

sure he knows with the drugs in your system that your hits will do no harm to him, but he doesn’t care. don’t piss him off and maybe you’ll live and give him another chance to do this to you. also, he probably doesn’t even have a knife in his back pocket, but you didn’t need to know that.

tauntingly licks every tear that rolls down your cheek and onto his hand as he slams his hips against you, sending a taunting smirk your way.

also takes pictures and videos as a little souvenir. shoves the camera all in your face, making sure the flash is on while he adds commentary in the back.

“look at this dirty slut cryin’ all over my dick,”

“pulled me away from my friends and begged me to fuck her brains out, ain’t that right?”

of course you couldn’t respond, but so what? he simply starts laughing when you try to shake your head no. but he easily puts an end to that as he presses his palm even harder against your face, practically putting all his weight on it, threatening to break a tooth to keep you from moving your head an inch. it makes you want to reach out and stop him by grabbing his arms, but what if he really had a knife in his pocket? he told you not to touch him…

he’s a dick usually because his friends are around and he wants to impress them, but now he’s a dick to prove something to himself, to prove something to you. if you had just said yes, he’s sure he would’ve been nicer, and he lets you know that, throwing all the blame onto you.

“this is your fault you know? i asked you nicely, but you just had to be a giant bitch about it. those tears ain’t for me, they’re for your stupid decisions.”

definitely chokes you as he starts to cum in you, the end of your assault nearing. you poor thing, still so scared he’s gonna kill you that the moment you reach your hands up to stop him, you let them droop back down to your sides. the drugs already clouded your vision, the choking just darkened it even more.

when he’s done he zips his pants up before pulling yours up and dragging you to stand. he pulls you back inside the club to where his friends were, pressing a kiss against your neck in front of them.

��just had the time of our lives, didn’t we baby?”

you just nod your head as well as you can, it getting heavier and heavier by the minute. bragging to his friends about how they clearly shouldn’t have doubted him. he throws you on a chair somewhere and goes about his night. if some other guy wanted to have a turn with you, he gave them all the tools they needed. wasn’t his problem any longer!

he expects that next time he sees you at a party (or somehow in public) and he asks to fuck, you won’t say no. don’t make it any harder than it needs to be.

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rottenherbs · 3 days ago

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Saint Like // G.W x reader

Request: Would you write a George x reader where Molly doesn't like George's girlfriend and she's kind of mean towards her but when she sees reader take care of George after he loses his ear she starts to slowly accept her?

Word count: 2.2k

Authors note: finally back to writing! Yippie!! That sickness actually was the worst ive had in years.

[masterlist]

Much love, Saige

———

It hurts to be dismissed by your boyfriend's mother. Year after year you arrive at his home, welcomed by others in his family, banter with his father, and simultaneously given the stark cold shoulder by the woman who gave him life.

It confused you to no end. She never supported the twins' endeavors; she consistently dismissed and shrouded any thought of their joke shop, practically banning any conversation of the idea in the burrow indefinitely. In her own world, Fred and George would magically wake up one day and decide that they wanted to pursue a career that was more lucrative. Her own fear of poverty inflamed her distaste in their aspirations — purely because it had the possibility of their own financial demise. She wanted better for her boys, and unfortunately you were the easy scapegoat to place blame.

It poked and prodded every nerve on you. You wanted nothing but success and love for George and his family, but you were seen as a threat to the possibilities that they might turn out… normal.

—

The climate of the wizarding world was beyond bleak. Everyday you rose to the sun, beyond blessed to be living another day, but filled with anxieties that it truly may be your last.

Your addition to the order was practically mandatory. With no ties to your parents it was easy for you to sign away your life for the greater good. Your heart lied with Goerge and your friends and fighting next to them would be an honor.

As it came up on Harry’s seventeenth birthday, figuring out how to transport the boy became more trivial. The magical protection given to him by his mothers sacrifice would wear off and he would be more vulnerable to Voldemort than ever. Every movement or spell he made was under the view of the ministry and it had to be done with extreme caution.

The burrow was the next safest place for him, but getting him there bred confusion and limited options.

“What if we just had him apparate out?” Ron asked. The order sat around the kitchen table at the Burrow, just days before operation Free Potter.

”He is still underage Ron, it’ll be flagged immediately.” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes slightly. Ron shook his head.

”We’re already breaking the law, why not one more!” He chuffed, disappointed how easily his idea was shut down.

“Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem.” Moody interrupted “He’s made it an imprisonable offence to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here or Apparate in or out.”

The table silenced at his arrival, everyone soaking in the new information and the loss of yet another helper on the inside.

“That’s pointless, he is protected anyway -“ You started. You were honestly just thinking out loud, soon realizing everyone’s eyes on you.

“All that’s done is stop Harry from leaving safely.” You coughed, attempting to find your voice again. Moody shook his head in agreement, those in the order all now speaking among themselves. George arrived at the kitchen taking a spot next to you. He nudged you quietly, smirking down at you.

“Anything juicy?” He whispered, leaning down. You smiled and shook your head no, leaning over to reply.

“Just all hobgobble about how we will get Harry here. Even moody is stumped.” You whispered. George scoffed.

“Moody stumped? Give him like 4 minutes, we’ll be out of here in no time.” He chuffed. The feeling of his hot breath tickled your neck, causing you to shiver slightly. Giggling, you looked over the room, unfortunately making eye contact with Mrs Weasley. She pursed her lips and scowled.

“I think we ought not be distracted.” She stood, walking around the large table to the sink. She stood with her hands firmly on the ledge leaning away from the crowd. As much as you felt targeted by the statement she was right.

“Its risky but it’ll take cooperation… from all yous.” Moody thumped, his fake eye spiraling around the room. Thievery fell into a hush, waiting for what he had to reveal.

“Everyone will be a potter. As many heads as we can round up. They’ll be confused, won’t know who’s who.” He coughed, opening his flask and taking a swig.

“Polyjuice potion?” George asked. It was more of a rhetorical question of course, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Aye boy.” Moody nodded.

“They’ll just kill us all.” Molly shrieked, the idea of everyone now the face of the target became increasingly daunting.

“No they won’t Molly.” Remus coincided. “We ride on brooms, quietly through the night in groups eh” He raised his eyebrows, checking the feelings of the table. Most people nodded in agreement.

“It’s the order Molly. We’ve been in danger from the beginning. It’s not the time to become fearful.” Moody coughed, standing up from the table.

“One month from today. Stay vigilant.” Moody snapped from the room, leaving everyone in silence.

—

The month came and went in a flash. It felt as if the sky was grey every day since that meeting. No sign of summer or joy, only the steep consequences that were to come.

“Hi my love.” George purred from behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, resting his head on top of your.

“Hi.” You whispered, leaning back into his body. You both swung lightly in each other's arms enjoying the feeling of peace.

“They just got word of who’s flying.” He mumbled, keeping his head steady. You kept swaying, but your body stiffened slightly at his words.

“You’re going.” You sighed. You knew he would, and you kicked yourself daily for worrying about his demise. It wasn’t exactly a positive situation to be in, but your milling about danger wouldn’t help.

“I know you wish I could stay, but Fred and I fly well, and they need people who are confident in their brooms.” He murmured, rubbing your sides lovingly. He turned you around to face him, his cheeks warm with glow, beaming down at you.

“What am I doing?” You asked, holding his arms tightly. Part of you wished to be in the sky with him, as if your presence could protect.

“You, my beautiful bird-“ George leaned down, kissing your forehead after every word. “You are meant to stay here. Look for signs and send alerts back if anything happens.”

You didn’t respond, you just sighed and smiled.

“I know you wanted to go.” He whispered. “But it’ll be good. A good opportunity to help from the ground.” He smiled. You could tell he was trying to reassure you, his eyes darting between yours looking for any sign of disapproval.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning up so your nose grazed his. “I’ll be waiting for you, and you better come back in one piece.”

—

The night finally arrived and you spent every waking moment with George. You hated to think it was your last time seeing him, but the reality was clear. Anything could happen tonight and you would be sure that it was spent with him.

After dinner, Moody arrived at the burrow rallying up those who were going.

“5 minutes and we must be out, got it?” He looked around the room, heads nodding in acceptance. He turned to you and Molly, softening his face.

“You two will be the first to know if anything happens. I will send a message once we have left the Dursleys, then we will be back here in approximately 30 minutes.” His eyes widened in question, looking for any look of approval between you two. You dare not look at Molly and keep eye contact with Moody.

“Yes sir.” You choked, the air in your chest seizing.

“Atta girl. Alrig’t move out.” Moody winked, turning on his heel and walking out of the room, numerous bodies following. George paused and jogged over to you, kissing your cheek and squeezing your hand before joining the fray.

Once everyone left the burrow became quiet. Molly soon looked for any way to busy her fingertips knowing she’d have to distract her mind or else she’d go mad. You stood by the window for a short period, looking at the sky and prairie out past the horizon looking for any sign of movement. Hearing a hefty sigh behind you, you turned to face the sound, already anticipating a lecture.

“Could you help me make supper? I bet they’ll be hungry when they get back.” Mrs.Weasley spoke softly, her back turned to you still maneuvering pots and pans in the kitchen. You nodded to yourself and took a deep breath in, walking over near her.

“Maybe start with the potato’s, rid the eyes and peel the skin for me.” She didn’t look at you, instead speaking into her hands, sniffling after ever few words. She wasn’t crying, but you could hear the trouble in her voice clear as day. Grabbing a peeler, you got to work, trying to pass the time as well.

“I hope you know I don’t .. loathe you like you may think.” She whispered, just loud enough so that you’d hear but quiet enough that the words don’t linger in the air.

You stood in silence, peeling the potatoes, confused entirely by her statement.

“I don’t think-“ you lied, thinking it was the right thing to counter, even deep down you felt that she thought you were better off dead most days.

“You have every right to think it.” She snuffed, pausing her work and biting her cheek. “I just….”

“I understand a mothers love.” You whispered, picking up another potato and holding it softly. “I understand wanting the best for your children, but ..” you choked. You didn’t know if you had the confidence to say yet another thing that would make her angry.

“But sometimes their best interest isn’t yours and it’s out of a mothers control what their adult children do.” You finished. You knew it was the truth, but on the heels of Percy abandoning the family it had to have stung just as hard.

Mrs Weasley didn’t respond. She didn’t move her head or acknowledge your statement but stood and pondered what you said. You couldn’t tell if she was boiling with rage or the words finally penetrated the field of deep affection that clouded her judgement so.

Just from the window, a owl rapped the glass, begging to be let in.

“That’s them.” She muttered, wiping her hands on her apron and rushing over to let the owl in.

“Thirty minutes.” She sighed

“Thirty minutes.” You repeated.

Time moved extremely fast after that. You both were taking turns by the window to cool down your nerves with the cold night air. The meal was brewing magically on the stone and didn’t need the tender touch of either of you to finish. Even though very little was said between you two, it felt as if you had become closer because of tonight. At least, we understood a little more about each other retroactively.

The sound of loud snapping wood alerted you both that people were apperating at the burrow. Running out of the burrow, you locked eyes with Harry, who was barreling off of Harris’s motorbike, stumbling towards the house.

“Death Eaters, loads of them — we were chased —" Harry coughed, falling into Mrs.Weaslys arms. Your mind raced, searching the sky for any one else who would arrive.

“Death eaters-“ You whispered, fear overtaking your body. You could taste the adrenaline in your mouth, a sour foul feeling overcoming your every sense. Luckily the pain of unknowing was only for a moment more, as Lupin and George followed suit.

“George!” You cried, running over to the boy. His hand held the side of his head, blood was dripping down his shoulder and across his cheek.

“I’m okay im okay.” He mumbled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and hoisting himself upon your small frame. You tugged his body indoors, flopping him on the family couch in the living room.

“It’s just my ear darling.” He smiled weakly, his face was pale from the loss of blood but still held your hand tightly. Mrs.Weasley quickly began to tend to her son, allowing you to hold his hand and be with him through it all. Even though you were slightly inconvenient to her tendings, she dare not ask you to move. Both Fred and you had been tied together, your sobs uncontrollable.

“Honestly I think I’m way cuter without an ear. Don’t you think?” George tossed, rubbing your hand affectionately. Mrs Weasley had successfully stoped the bleeding and bandaged what she could, leaving you both alone in the room. Just in the kitchen, Lupin and the order continued to talk about their now sudden loss of Moody and who could be trusted.

“It definitely makes you stand out.” You laughed, finally feeling comfortable in his state. You both smiled at each other, the everlasting admiration you had for him only grew, how resilient and fateful even in the face of death he had been.

“I’ll always get the last laugh-“

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter headcanon #harrypotter #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #george weasley #george weasly x reader #george weasley x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #battle of the seven potters

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theinstagrahame · 14 hours ago

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Just remembered, since my last addition, the time that I went to an elder friend in the church I used to go to, and started to talk about my attitude towards queer people starting to shift.

This was a Massachusetts "non-denominational" church (which for the uninitiated, means it was some sort of Baptist Light, made palatable for conservatives in a Blue State), which was still pretty anti-gay. They publicly kicked a friend of mine out because he chose to be gay instead of being part of the church.

I had recently been spending more time with queer people, and noticing that they were warm and welcoming in a way that I wasn't used to; not at all what they had told me queer people were like. So I said to my friend that I was realizing we had more in common than I'd thought.

He cautioned me not to get too close in case I condone their lifestyle. Which, I realized just now feels like "the sin of empathy", but in a different shirt. What's clear now, reflecting on this, is that for a religion allegedly founded on "love your neighbor as yourself", they really have come to pick and choose who actually gets to count as a neighbor.

They honestly don't think of "sinners" as real people, despite their goddamn Deity choosing to hang out with "tax collectors and sinners" at every opportunity. And if they're not people, they don't deserve empathy.

... Coincidentally, that was I think the last real conversation I had with that guy.

(Reblogging this version because I'm a big fan of "not beating the allegations" as a turn of phrase.)

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aerynwrites · 3 days ago

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Cravings

John Price x Pregnant!Reader

A/N: Based on THIS idea that came to me. This is most likely going to be an on going little interconnected one shot series as I already have other ideas for John and his cute lil' pregnant neighbor. Hope you all enjoy this one! Word Count: 3k Warnings: mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, fluff, soft john price. Next Part

The ceramic plate feels unusually heavy in your hands, but so does your fist as you bring it up to knock on the door in front of you before dropping it again, internally battling with yourself.

What the fuck are you doing?

That’s the first thought that runs through your head as you stand stupidly in front of your neighbors door, the smell of…something so tantalizing wafting through from the other side making your mouth water.

Ah, right - silly pregnancy brain basically forced you from your apartment with a plate in your hand because while you don’t know what your neighbor is cooking it smells so fucking good that you fear you might die if you don’t have some of it.

It’s silly, you know it is, it’s outrageous really - what were you planning to do? Waltz up to this man's door, knock, and then hold out your plate - “alms for the poor pregnant lady please?”

You sigh, dropping the plate by your side as the thought runs through your mind. You almost turn to walk back to your apartment empty handed, but then a faint memory surfaces for just a moment. Your neighbor isn’t a stranger, and while he isn't quite a friend, either - he’s been kind enough. You actually hadn’t run into him all that often, your first interaction with him being a couple months into your pregnancy actually.

You’d been grappling with a large box, trying and ultimately failing to get it up the stairs to your second floor apartment, stranding you on the landing between the stairs as you stared up at the last flight. You were leaning against the wall, hand on your slightly rounded belly when you heard John’s door open and close, him appearing around the corner shortly after, surprise coloring his features at the scene before him.

“Need some help with that?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You huffed out a small laugh, giving him a smile of your own. “Only if you’re offering.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to let you do it by yourself, not in your condition.”

You let out a soft ‘hmph’ at that - hating when people refer to your predicament as a condition. You’re pregnant, not bedridden.

“Where is your better half anyways?” He’d asked, picking up the box with such little effort it made you jealous, “I outta teach him a thing or two about manners-”

You wave him off, the mention of your baby's father leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Not in the picture,” you say simply, quickly putting an end to the line of questioning.

Your neighbor paused at that, but decided not to push it, staying silent until you reached your door. You unlocked it and told him he could leave the box at the door but he’d insisted on at least putting it inside the apartment.

“Do you…” he paused for a moment, rubbing his beard chin in thought. “You need help getting it put together?”

You glance down at the box, it’s just a crib, it’ can’t be that hard.

You give him a warm smile, shaking your head. “You’ve been plenty of help, I should be able to get it from here.”

He nods, turning back towards the door before stopping just past the threshold and holding his hand out towards you. “John Price. I’m over in 2C if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

You shake his hand, and smile before he heads back down the stairs.

John Price…

Your interactions past that had been spread thin - although you did end up asking for his help with the crib - it was in no way a one person job. But other than that…it was just friendly conversations or waves as you passed one another in the hallway or stairs.

But as you stand here, the smell of food getting stronger and more inviting, his words replay again.

“Don’t hesitate to ask…”

Fuck it.

You reach up and knock on his door before you can stop yourself, clutching the plate against your chest as you hear a faint call from inside, and then the smell of whatever the hell he’s cooking is hitting you full force as the door swings open.

Your name falls from his lips as he looks at you, that slight look of surprise on his face once again as he takes you in on his doorstep. You probably are a sight - leggings, oversized sweatshirt, only in your fuzzy socks and a plate in your hand.

“Look, I know this is going to sound so stupid,” you begin, rushing to explain yourself. “But I was in my apartment and I started to smell whatever it is that you’re cooking and it just smells so good, and I tried to just make something else but it didn’t seem nearly as appetizing and I just-”

You let out a frustrated huff, holding out your plate in shameful defeat, “Can I just…Can I just have a little of whatever it is that you’re making? because now I’m craving it and I don’t think I will be able to stop thinking about it.”

The silence that follows your request makes you want to shrivel up in embarrassment, but it’s soon washed away as gentle laughter meets your ears. You watch as John has to almost physically support himself on the doorframe as he tries and fails to contain his laughter. Heat rushes to your cheeks, but before you can protest or bite back, he’s stepping back into his apartment, opening the door a bit wider.

“Why don’t I do you one better and invite you in for dinner?” He says, eyes bright with amusement.

Pulling the plate back to your chest in a mock hug, suddenly unsure. “Are you sure?” You ask, voice small, “I don’t want to intrude.”

He shakes his head, reaching an arm out to guide you inside, “Nonsense, I made too much for one person anyways,” he says, closing the door behind you once you enter.

“I hope you like Indian food,” he says, moving to slip past you towards the kitchen, “Does spicy food bother you?”

At the mention of Indian food, you can feel yourself practically drooling. You’ve had an affinity for spicy foods as of late, and curry has been your go to.

“God no,” you practically groan, moving to follow him into the small apartment kitchen, “Spicy food is the one thing I can’t get enough of as of late.”

The kitchen in this apartment is identical to your own. It’s attached right to the living room, separated only by a half wall breakfast bar type set up, so you’re able to watch as John turns his back to you to tend to the food still on the stove.

There’s a small empty space off to the side of the kitchen and living room - clearly meant to be a small dining area of sorts but John has turned it into a makeshift office. A small desk littered with papers and folders haphazardly stacked together and an open laptop, screensaver up on display.

“Make yourself at home,” John calls over his shoulder, the soft clinking of dishes accompanying his words, “food’ll be done in a moment.”

Put slightly more at ease by his words, you finally set your plate down on the breakfast bar top, taking a moment to look around the space.

The living room is sparsely decorated, clearly a man’s apartment - but it’s more than that. It’s utilitarian, almost…cold. You’ve started to notice that John is sometimes gone for long stints of time, maybe that’s why it’s so impersonal, he doesn’t spend much time here. Yet, despite the lack of decor or personal touches, you do notice small things that just scream John - at least from what you know of him.

The fancy crystal ashtray on the coffee table, half smoked cigar sitting unlit in the well. The half empty glass of dark amber liquid sitting right next to it, condensation pooling on the coaster beneath it. There is a simple leather couch up against the back wall of the living room right across from an entertainment center and TV. Two small bookshelves bracket the entertainment center, and without thinking, your feet carry you over to them.

They’re filled with books of all sorts - mostly nonfiction - but you catch some classics among the plethora of autobiographies and self-help books. Catcher in The Rye, The Nickel Boys, and Moby Dick, to name a few. But the one that draws your attention the most is one book sitting on the shelf closest to the door, lying face down as if he had been in the middle of reading when he was interrupted by something.

The Hobbit.

You smile, turning from the book as you turn to walk back towards his makeshift office space and thus, the kitchen.

“Didn’t take you as a Tolkien fan, John.”

He turns to look at you as you come to the entrance to the kitchen, giving you a small smile, and a sheepish shrug before turning back to stir the pot.

“One of my coworkers recommended it to me,” he defends, before adding, “although I’ll admit it’s growing on me.”

As he was speaking you turned and took a few more steps into his office space, eyes drawn to the screensaver on the laptop. It’s four men in military gear, arms around each other’s shoulders, and it only takes you a moment to spot John among the bodies. He’s smiling wide in the photo, arm wrapping affectionately around the neck of a dark skinned man to his left, while his other arm is wrapped more casually around another man to his right. This man is also smiling wide, piercing blue eyes crinkled in delight as he seems to be laughing, the sides of his head are shaved and he has a short mohawk. Your eyes finally trail to the last member of the group, who’s one arm is around the man with the mohawk, while his other arm is rested casually atop the rifle hanging around him. But what stands out the most is the stark white skull mask on his face, hiding everything but his dark eyes.

“You’re in the military?” You ask, moving to stand up straight once more, wincing at the slight twinge in your back as you do so.

You hear John approach from behind you, footsteps muffled by the carpet as he comes to stand next to you.

“That I am,” he says, and you don’t miss the way he tucks some papers beneath other folders. Not for your eyes apparently.

You smile when you look at the picture, “You look happy here,” you say, pointing to the screen.

John nods beside you, smiling fondly again. “It was a good day,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders, “mission went well for once.”

He reaches out and points to the man on his left, “That’s Gaz,” he moves to the one to his right, “Soap,” he finally moves to the man with the skull mask, “and that’s Ghost.”

You hum, slightly confused by the names, but recalling a faint knowledge of military personnel getting nicknames sometimes. You choose not to question it, instead giving in to your teasing nature as you point to John in the picture.

“You skipped over the handsome one,” you say, voice teasing.

You watch in silent triumph as John clears his throat, and if it weren't for his beard, you’re sure you’d see red adorning his cheeks. He waves his hand at you, shaking his head as he chuckles.

“Oh, come off it,” he chastises lightly, “Dinner’s ready.”

You turn and move towards the kitchen where John already has two plates of butter chicken and rice plated up and ready for you both. You move to help him but he brushes you off with a small ‘tsk’ sound before sliding past you and leading you back into the living room.

“I hope you’re alright eating at the coffee table,” he says sheepishly, setting the plates down, “Never got around to getting a proper dining room table.”

You smile at him, trying to be reassuring as you take a seat on the couch, “perfectly fine with me. It’s where I eat most of my meals too.”

He seems to relax at that before disappearing back into the kitchen and returning shortly with two glasses of water, setting one in front of you and then his own plate before taking a seat next to you. You wait, not all that patiently for him to get comfortable before you finally dig into the food that started this whole silly debacle, and the moment you do, you can’t stop the groan that slips past your closed lips as you chew.

It’s fucking amazing.

Better than the Indian restaurant you frequent, and much better than anything you’ve ever tried to cook. The seasoning is perfect, the curry is the right consistency too and it’s just-

“Holy shit, John,” you manage after swallowing another bite of food, taking a sip of your water as he laughs around his own bite.

“I take it you approve then?” He asks, blue shimmering with amusement.

You hum happily, taking another bite before replying. “More than approve, this is phenomenal, better than any indian take away I’ve had.”

He smiles at that, “I’ll take the compliment then.”

You nod, now trying to force yourself to slow down and savor the dish in front of you. “As you should.”

It’s quiet for a moment before John reaches for the remote laying on the table. “Fancy anything in particular?”

You think for a moment before shaking your head, “whatever you usually watch is fine.”

He nods, turning the TV on and switching to a streaming service before flicking through the various ‘recently watched’ shows. You can’t stop the way your brow raises when you see The Great British Baking Show among the list.

“You watch baking shows?” You ask, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

John chuckles, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “call it a guilty pleasure,” he jokes before clicking on the most recent episode.

The rest of the meal passes in an air of comfort, the only sounds at first being the scrape of utensils against plates and the show playing on the TV. Neither of you really notice when you both finish eating and lean back into the couch, eyes glued to the screen and critiques falling from both your mouths.

“She forgot the fucking eggs!” You cry at the TV, incredulous that one of the contestants forgot a key ingredient in their cake.

John practically groans beside you, “it’s probably for the best,” he says, cringing slightly as it switches to another baker whose cake is crumbling apart as they try to decorate it. “She tried to pair pickles with a chocolate mousse last episode-”

“She what?” You look at him surprised for a moment before sinking back into the couch. “Wait…that actually might not be that bad-”

This gets another laugh out of the man beside you and you hear him mumble something about ‘weird pregnancy cravings’ before you both go back to watching the show.

The evening passes much like this, both of you watching a few more episodes before your eyes fall to the clock on your phone, eyes widening at the time.

“Oh my gosh it’s late,” you say, sitting up straighter, hand falling to your belly when the movement causes a twinge.

You must make a face because, John is sitting up now too, eyes falling down to where your hand lays. “No need to rush,” he assures you, moving to stand and offer you his hand. “I’m not kicking you out.”

You smile up at him as you take his hand, fighting the heat that rushes to your cheeks, “Well you could have,” you say softly, “I definitely overstayed my welcome.”

The man before you just shakes his head, “none of that now,” he assures you, “If I’d wanted you gone, I would’ve said something. I..” He trails off, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “I liked having the company.”

Now you really blush, ducking your head as your hand rubs absentmindedly over your stomach. “I..I liked it too. Nice change of pace. Thank you for inviting me in,” you tug your lip between your teeth before continuing. “I know it was a weird request and you could have turned me away - should have probably but…Thank you.”

You look up then only to see John giving you that warm smile you’ve come to be familiar with, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Anytime,” he says softly, before he shifts, as if remembering something. “Almost forgot-”

He hurries back to the kitchen, pulling something from the fridge before returning to you. He holds out a Tupperware container, obviously filled with leftovers from dinner.

“Saved some for you,” he says, urging the container into your hands when you don’t take it immediately.

“John I-” you shake your head, looking down at the container, “You already fed me, I don’t want to take your leftovers too-”

He waves his hand sharply, cutting you off. “I made plenty,” he promises, “I still have some. There was plenty left to give you.”

A small silence falls over you, gratitude and warmth filling your chest with a fuzziness you haven’t felt in a long time. Not since your last relationship, not since you got pregnant. It’s been too long since someone cared for you instead of the other way around, and the simple gesture makes your eyes burn with the threat of tears.

Not now, pregnancy hormones!

You smile, clothing the container tightly to you before looking up at John again. He still has that soft look on his face, and before you can think better of it, you lean up on your tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, John.”

And then you turn and exit his apartment before either of you can find time to feel embarrassed about your actions.

But, you left so quickly you missed the blush on John’s cheeks, and the way he brought one hand up to touch the spot you kissed.

Fuck.

He’s a goner.

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #john price #captain john price #tw: pregnancy #cod #call of duty

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reginamillls · 2 days ago

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At this point Buck has an app on his phone that tells him when it will be sunset.

He never wants to be late.

The elevator ride to the top is long, and it's followed by four flights of stairs, and he can feel himself almost running up them, long legs taking two at a time till he's at the top. The view, is breathtaking. But Buck isn't here for the view. He finds his usual spot just as the sun is dipping below the horizon and he can feel how the stone next to him heats, the magic throughout breathing life to the figure within. With the last of the sun's rays, the figure next to him is free, roaring to life as he stands from his protective pose over the castle. Buck can't help but look on as wings, powerful enough for flight, stretch into the air and then come back down around the creature's shoulders.

When the creature turns to him, Buck doesn't feel scared, he just feels welcomed. "Tommy," Buck greets and Tommy wrinkles his nose. The nick name was new, something more modern for the times. He likes to think that Tommy is actually fond of it. "Evan," Tommy replies and he steps down from the ledge to stand next to him. He smiles at Buck, sharp teeth on display. His eyes travel up and down Buck's body, something the other knows is how he is checking up on him, making sure that he hadn't been injured at all since they last met. Buck had been uncomfortable the first time Tommy had done it, the gargoyle could be intense at times, but over their interactions, Buck has come to find the action sweet. "Have you rested?" That was another thing, Tommy cared. He cared that Buck would often stay up all night, living off little sleep just to help him, and would call him out on it too. Tommy would remind Buck often that he had waited a thousand years to awaken from his curse, he could wait longer so that Buck wouldn't hurt himself. "I did," Buck says smiling at Tommy checking in on him. His smile grows though when he takes his backpac off and turns it around, opening it up to reveal an ancient looking book. "I found something, possibly a lead to what happened to the hatchlings." "We shall go over it then," Tommy states firmly, head tilted as he takes in the old book. "How did you come upon this?" Buck may have stole it, but that was a story for another time.

They work together on translating what they can that night, the two slowly gravitating towards eachother until Tommy is a solid weight at his side, his arm brushing against Buck's as they work to try and find answers. Buck desperately wants to help Tommy find his family, aching to know that his new friend has been alone for so long, seemingly the last of his kind. It speaks to him in a way he never expected, and in helping Tommy, befriending him, Buck feels a little less lonely as well.

#bucktommy #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #I mean this in the best possible way lou would make a good gargoyle #gargoyles #gargoyle au #did anyone ask for this? no #but you're getting it #tevan

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oddproperty · 2 days ago

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change of heart

masterlist here

✧ hi!! just a bit of writing for fun, enjoy :)

✧ word count: 2.3k

✧ pairing: lando norris x reader x (somewhat charles leclerc)

✧ 'suddenly unapproving of your interest in charles, lando reminds you whose guest you are.'

***This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.***

passing through the lobby of lando's apartment, you caught your reflection in a mirror, stopping to smooth the red silk dress against your body. having bought it only a few hours ago, you were pleased with how well it fit. the material of the dress fell over you just right, bringing attention to your curves. usually you don't wear red, but tonight it seemed appropriate.

"lando…this is so last minute," you sighed into the phone.

"it seriously should not take you that long to get ready…plus, charles will be here," he teased. this taunting behavior between you two was normal, having been friends for years.

"wow lando! that'll definitely make sure i have a dress for tonight!" you feigned excitement. “is he going to buy it for me too?”

"i'm sure he will in return for something else," lando joked slyly.

you were lando’s closest friend. when he made it into formula 1, it was common for you to be at his races and afterparties. you were able to meet all the racers and have good friendships. however, it was clear that charles enjoyed your presence in the paddock seemingly more than lando. never failing to talk to you after every race, holding your attention at the afterparties, and similar things were normal practice. lando noticed you showed interest back, and he never seemed too fond of this connection. you assumed it was because, at times, you and lando had been flirty with each other…although it never went further than sly comments and a light touch here and there on nights where you both had been drinking too much.

"you're sick…i'll be there."

arriving at his door, you heard the music already sounding. you got there early and were surprised that it sounded like the party already began.

your knocking on the hard door received no answer. after trying twice, you began fiddling through your purse to find the spare key he had given you in case of emergencies. slotting it into the door handle, you looked into his living room where a dj booth stood, but no lando.

"lando?" you called out over the music. no answer.

having been in his apartment probably more than your own, you made your way to the hallway with his bedroom. you hoped your heels clicking on the hardwood flooring would be loud enough to alert him. trying to call out his name once more, you received nothing back.

entering his bedroom, you caught the reflection of him dressing in the overly large mirror that always faced his bed. you never thought too deep into it being there, and frankly, you didn't want to. you remembered all the times lando made sly remarks of showing you why he had it there.

he wore an all-black suit with the first two shirt buttons undone. the shiny necklace he had worn for the majority of his life shining brightly through the gap. a glass of whiskey rested on the table nearby. of course you thought him attractive at least once in the duration of your friendship. his curly hair, hazel eyes, and of course the physique that formula 1 training had brought him. this outfit pointed all of his features out to you more than normal.

"pregaming?" you ask, pointing to his drink as you enter the room. he jumped at the intrusion, but relaxed when he sees that its you. you see a look of disappointment quickly show on his face as he leans against the table, grabbing his glass to take a sip. you watch as he takes the strong liquor with no reaction, making a quick glance at the half-rolled sleeve that displays his tanned, strong forearm.

"you know that papaya would have been a much better option. think it suits you waaay more," lando drug on, obviously displeased at the red dress.

you roll your eyes playfully, ignoring his sly comment, "where can i get one of those?" pointing to his glass.

he makes his way toward you. you carefully watch his strides as they close in on the doorframe you're standing in. his broad shoulders dwarf your own.

pointing at your dress and touching it lightly, you already feel overwhelmed by his small touch. "maybe charles can fix you one when he gets here,” he taunts you.

anytime lando could use your crush to embarrass you, he was on it. this playful banter was usual between you and him, though he currently seemed a bit more adamant.

"actually…i think this one is perfect," you say, taking the drink out of his hand. finishing it, you turn on your heels, making your way back to the living area. you hear lando trail behind, grumbling.

as the night continued on, you realized this party was a lot bigger than you had expected. the entirety of lando's living room, kitchen, and balcony were overcome with people. you were able to hear conversations coming from every angle, along with the semi-loud music that blasted through the speakers. you sipped from a complex and tasty drink he had made you earlier (after he got over himself) that made you quite tipsy. admiring the environment around you, you frequently saw lando djing his heart out. given your state, you began to notice just how nicely his defined arms flexed from under his black shirt. how his curly hair lightly fell over his forehead as he focused on the turntable in front of him. and the way the necklace he wore sat perfectly over his (admittedly very kissable) toned neck and chest. thoughts flit across your mind about how you should've taken him up on his offer to learn why his mirror is facing his bed.

breaking your one-sided staring contest - and to remove these thoughts about your best friend - you shook your head slightly. when you glanced back up, you caught his eye, and noticed the look of slight concern on his face. he raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression, to which you smiled back at him languidly.

suddenly realizing just how much you liked the drink he made - and your sudden interest in being near him - you made your way to lando to ask for another. brushing against everyone as you made your way through the crowd, you almost missed the large hand feather over your lower arm. when looking down, you noticed the signature richard mille timepiece.

turning around, you exclaimed, "charles!" while pulling him into a hug. his hands rested gently on your waist as yours laid across his neck. the scent of sandalwood and bergamot enveloped you, making you pull him impossibly close. the alcohol in your system was not working in your favor around him, but you were glad to center these thoughts on him and temporarily forget the ones of lando.

after a moment, you began to pull away. admiring him in the dim lighting, you noticed the black and white suit he wore, along with the thin red tie that almost matched your dress. it was more formal than what most were wearing, but he looked amazing. you slowly ran your free hand down the arm of his suit jacket, taking in the soft material. his hands remained on your waist as he watched you closely. you felt shy under his gaze.

removing a hand, he brought it up to caress the side of your face. he pulled you in, angling your ear to his mouth in order for you to hear him. you felt his slight stubble gently graze your cheek.

"you are so pretty," he expressed meaningfully, "red is gorgeous on you."

"i’d say it looks good on you as well," you responded, moving your hands to gently pull on his silk tie.

"wish i could see you in red all the time," he suggested, using the hand that was on your lower back to delicately bring your core flush to him. even in your inebriated state, you immediately knew what he was hinting at.

pulling away from his face slightly, you felt the warmth of his breath graze your cheek and could smell spiced rum from his lips. you could've melted into the strong hand on your lower back. you're not sure if it was the alcohol amplifying the sensations, or if the moment was truly that intoxicating, but you felt warm all over.

gaining awareness of the situation, you returned to the side of his head to whisper in his ear, "i'm not sure how much lando would like that," your lips brushed the top of his pronounced cheekbone.

charles quirked an eyebrow at you and responded, smirking, "why are we asking lando for permission?" the sweet, delicate demeanor he had when he approached you was fading, slowly replaced by a drive to assert his feelings for you with no regard to anything in his way. it was alluring to see him in this new light, so confident to show you what he's truly thinking. this possessive streak sparked a flaming heat in you that went straight to your core. using the hand that was already on his arm, you gripped it slightly tighter, steadying yourself to avoid becoming dizzy from the overstimulation of the moment.

having not heard a response from you, he pulled back from your ear slightly to analyze your face. it was clear he was looking for any signs of apprehension. there were none.

"hopefully i do not have to ask lando about the other things i want to do," he added, dangerously close to the shell of your ear. your skin erupted in goosebumps from his warm breath.

you paused to take in this moment. your slightly inebriated state allowed you to feel everything much more. you could tell his breathing had increased from your hand on his chest and your core, which was still pushed flush against his. you gazed up at him, noticing the slight lowness of his eyes. evidence that he was, as you were, in the 'drunk and interested' state.

between the alcohol having its effect on you, the heat of this moment, and most importantly, the man in front of you, you pull back slightly and shift your eyes away to lighten the intensity you were feeling. almost immediately, you make eye contact with lando. he is once again behind the dj booth, drink in hand and holding a suspicious look on his face. you notice his eyes glance down to your core, where charles is connecting the two of you. lifting both of his eyebrows slightly, you can almost sense a twinge of jealousy on his behalf. watching him, you see him take a sip of his drink before drifting out of your view.

your suggestive thoughts about lando from earlier in the night come rushing back to you.

"what are you thinking about?" charles asks lightly, bringing your attention back to him. you gaze into his blue eyes, feeling dizzy once more.

clearing all inappropriate thoughts of your best friend from your brain once more, you respond, not breaking eye contact, "was thinking about getting another drink."

"another one?" a throaty british accent spoke, almost as if on command. you glance over your shoulder, unmistakably recognizing the curly haired man beside you. "i knew you'd like that one," lando states, pointing at your empty glass proudly.

before you can fully acknowledge lando's presence, you were being guided away by him to the kitchen, his hand replacing charles' on your lower back. his, however, was a rougher and more urgent touch. as you brushed against everyone in the crowded room, you turned around to look at charles, shooting him a pained glance and an 'i'll be right back' look.

directing your attention back to lando, you stopped in your tracks. he looked down at you, pleasantly diluted and arrogantly smirking.

"are you seriously that dull?" you shout at him, ensuring he could hear you over the music. a couple glances were thrown your way, but it didn't phase you.

he watches you for a moment with the same languid expression, making you shift your weight between feet, slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. that is until he leans down, nearing the shell of your ear. you slightly shiver, both from his warm breath trailing down the side of your neck, and the idea of him being so close to you. your thoughts of him earlier resurfacing in your mind. suddenly you were very aware of how low his hand laid on your back. you clenched your legs slightly.

"if you knew who you belonged to, i wouldn't have to be dull," he teased lowly. "whose hands belong on you, hm?" you felt the hand on your lower back grip the fabric of your dress tighter.

goosebumps formed over your exposed skin at his vulgar words. this possessiveness was so completely different from charles' it made you squirm. feeling his smirk grow against the edge of your ear, you knew he noticed your change in behavior...and it was clear he liked it.

you were not at all pleased with him pulling you away from charles, but you were interested in seeing how far you could make him go. his words obviously showed his interest in blurring the lines of your friendship, so you decided to match his attitude. sure the drink you had was probably spurring this behavior on, but it wasn’t the first time you had thought about this.

looking up at him, you could see his blown pupils. the hat he had put on earlier was now turned backwards, pushing his curly hair down to his forehead, which glistened slightly. thoughts of charles slowly left your mind for the final time tonight.

you moved closer to his tall frame, slightly pushing your chest against his, "can’t stand not getting what you want?”

he shook his head left and right slightly with not a shred of shyness in his gaze, “can’t stand when someone touches what’s mine.”

#charles leclerc #lando norris #formula 1 #f1 #lando norris smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc x you #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #writing

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randomness-in-motion · 2 days ago

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🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

Makié is 30, they don't celebrate their birthday. Their father gifted them a book about Wyverns on their 8th, it was the last gift they received and their most cherished for that reason.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

The scars across their body from an overload of electric magic when they were 8 1/2. Occasionally they'll have either emotionally overwhelming moments or moments of overexertion that lead to magic overload, causing the scars to become irritated/inflamed.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

Haven't currently written about them having any arguments that were serious, though I do have one in mind for a future entry due to a recent spree of writing. I think Lucanis is going to be doing some apology baking.

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

Makié has an older sister and a twin brother. They have not seen them since they were 8 1/2, and haven't been able to find out what happened to them in the years since. Their closest friend Dalia is more of a surrogate mother figure, and is also the person that rescued them and brought them to the Crows after they'd healed. She still lives in Treviso and Makié visits her as often as possible.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

A desire demon actually tried and failed around a year before Makié ended up being sent off with Varric, and then tried and failed again not long after they'd joined Varric. If there were a demon that could actually succeed, it would be a Despair Demon.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

Prior to Veilguard Makié had only been in one relationship, they'd been seeing a Veil Jumper. Iseri was adventurous and bad at taking advice when focused on a goal. The relationship ended when Iseri did not survive an encounter with a Venatori lackey.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

Hibiscus and Honey, and occasionally Blood Orange.

🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse?

They have a small alcove in the top floor of a Treviso building that no one uses, when they get stressed they sneak off at night and spend time there laying in a nest of blankets & pillows staring out at the sky/stars through the window.

🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

Iseri, because Makié feels that is they'd just explained better then maybe Iseri would have listened and would still be alive.

🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater)

It's not so much irrational as it's due to the joy that is Crow training, but they are severely claustrophobic. Even clothes that are too snug cause them issues at times, and tight hugs are rarely accepted.

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

They nearly died at 8 1/2. Their last thought as they lost consciousness was "Ir abelas, Mamae."(I'm sorry, Mother). Makié and Viago argue a lot due to Makiés' impulsivity and Viago's overprotectiveness. Viago should just make a stamp that says 'Actions have consequences' and bonk Makié on the forehead with it during every argument where Makié responds with 'But it worked!' just to save himself some time. The moment they were sent away had Viago trying to not let it get to him, and Teia giving him a look as they led Makié away after reassuring them that it was only temporary.

🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food)

They managed to get the person who saved them to take them to where they'd lived to see if their family was there, and when they weren't, Makié retrieved the book on wyverns that their father had gifted them and a thin delicate silver chain of their mothers. When Makié went to the Crows, Dalia kept the items safe for them as fledglings weren't allowed to have belongings.

🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish?

Makié has a discrete Antivan Crow tattoo between and just slightly below their breasts. They nearly fell asleep as they were getting it(they don't sleep much).

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

They were 8 1/2, it was an act of despair and rage followed by loss of consciousness. Upon waking, Makié was angry that the last two had gotten away.

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

#dragon age ask game #veilguard #datv #da4 #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veil guard Rook

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finelinevogue · 2 days ago

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here with me

summary - you convince Azriel to join you at a celebration, only for him to get overwhelmed by the noise and crowd

word count - >1k

pairing - azriel x mate!reader

It was your friend’s birthday and you’d been invited to a her celebration.

It was the kind celebration where friends of friends of friends were invited, so it was quite a large event. This wouldn’t have mattered so much if it wasn’t for the fact the event was being held in her loft apartment in the city.

The loft was open air and spacious, but not when there were fifty-plus people here.

What was worse was that you could tell Azriel hated every minute of being here and he was only here for you.

Az had never been too great with enclosed spaces that felt suffocating or meeting a large group of people he’d never met before. Yet, he had come to keep you company and because he didn’t want you walking back home at night by yourself.

“Are you still with Azriel?” Jasmine, one of your friend’s friends, asked.

“Yeah. We’re mates now.” You said smiling, feeling warm in your chest as you thought about Az.

You took a sip of your drink as liquid courage to keep this conversation going with this stranger.

“Oh amazing! How’s that?”

“What? Being mates?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm…” You never knew how to answer this question when people asked, because how do you explain to someone that being mates and bonded to someone was everything. It had become your entire being.

There was no right word or phrase to explain how it felt. There was no telling someone how it felt when they hadn’t experienced it themselves. The bond was utterly consuming and explosive in a way that a common male would never begin to conceptualise.

“It’s really great.” You answered simply instead, keeping all the real treasures of it to yourself. The real meaning and feeling behind the bond was only for you and Azriel to understand.

“Good.” Jasmine sipped her drink, “So where is he?”

You looked around the room towards the bathroom, seeing as that was where he last mentioned he was going.

In a place like this Azriel wouldn’t leave you willingly unless it was to relieve himself or fetch you another drink. Your heart tightened as you wondered where he had gotten to. Was he okay?

“I… I’m actually going to go and find him.”

You stood up, leaving your drink behind.

The room suddenly felt smaller and tighter without Azriel next to you.

The music too loud and the voices too chaotic.

Your hand subconsciously rubbed over your chest, feeling his absence there more than physically.

You bumped into people as you made your way through the throws of people. The bathroom was in the corner, but when you made your way over there was no one in it.

You gave the bond a tug to make sure everything was still okay. He tugged back instantly, proving that he was okay. Well then, where the Mother was he?

Starting to panic now, you turned around and headed back towards the main throws of people.

“Sorry.” You mumbled to passing people you bumped into.

Then you saw him.

Sat outside on the balcony, tucked in the corner between the glass balcony and the wall of the building. His knees were up to his chest and his arms rested on them, head hung low.

You made a more determined push to get through the masses and to your mate.

You tugged on the bond to make sure Azriel knew you were still there and he tugged back instantly again - now you realised it was out of longing for you to find him rather than call-and-response.

Outside you quickly made your way to him, throwing yourself on the floor in front of him.

“Hey. Hey, i’m here.”

You brought his head up with your hands, forcing him to look at you.

It nearly broke your heart when you saw the tears of relief in his eyes. He gave you a broken smile.

“I’m right here.” You said again, resting your forehead on his.

There was no way to feel close to him right now when you were in this awkward place. You wanted to bundle you both in blankets so tight that you could never figure out how to escape. Being trapped against him forever would be pretty okay.

You kept on affirming to him that you were right there next to him, sending flurries of warmth and affection down the bond to prove it over and over.

“It was too loud.” He said quietly, but enough for you to hear.

“I know.” You said.

Your thumbs rubbed over the soft skin of his cheeks as you stayed close to him. Your presence physically calmed him down, but also emotionally. His anxiety almost halved the moment you slid down beside him and now he was growing stronger by the minute.

“Sorry.”

You shook your head against his. You pulled back slightly to catch his eyes, less teary now.

“No. I’m sorry, for dragging us both here.” You laughed, “Can’t believe we didn’t even get a slice of cake.”

Azriel laughed too and that told you that he was feeling better. That was good.

Hopefully he would feel okay enough in the next few minutes to winnow you out of here. It was too loud and overstimulating for the pleasure of not even being entertained or happy.

“It is a rubbish party.” Azriel admitted. “Only came because I wanted to be with you.”

“I know.” You gave him a sad smile.

How lucky were you to have a mate like him.

“Sorry I’m ruining your friend’s party.” Azriel said.

“Don’t be silly. She hasn’t even noticed we’ve turned up yet. She’s more interested in how many people attended than the actual people.” You scoffed, reminding yourself to lose contact with your friend after tonight.

“That’s pathetic.” Azriel scoffed.

“I think she only invited me because she wanted to claim that the Shadowsinger of the Night Court was in attendance.”

“Using you to get to me? How dare she. That’s a punishable offence.” He frowned.

“Okay, okay.” You laughed. “How about we go back home before we torture anyone? Yeah?”

Azriel shook his head at you, trying to cover his smile with a straight face. You knew him better though. You were starting to know him better or as well as he did himself.

“And what will we do at home?” He asked.

“I bought chocolate frozen ice today.” You said as if that explained everything - but it actually did. Azriel knew you more than well enough to understand.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

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lavenders388 · 21 hours ago

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hey :) I was wondering if you could do a Dae ho fic, where he and the reader are absolutely oblivious to their feelings and Jung-bae decides to do what he can to push them together (the ultimate wing man) Thanks

~Oblivious~

Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

a/n: this is the cutest request ever:) i love jung bae and dae ho together and this is such a sweet idea! sorry if this seems a bit rushed!! i wrote it before school:3

"during lights out, we should keep watch over the group in pairs." gi hun states sternly. he is met with some mumbled "why?"s, but out of desperation and lack of anything else to follow in the place, everyone has silently agreed to just go with what he says.

as the recorded voice echoes throughout the large, intimidating room you all will call home for the night, you look around to who could be your second for watch duty. you think about choosing maybe guaem ja or her son as they have become the closest to you, closest to friends.

"hey y/n, you watch with dae ho tonight." you hear from the bunk next to you. you look and see it to have come from jung bae, the man who knows gi hun from before the games. you've grown to trust him as well, his genuineness aiding in delivering moments of relief from the awful place you've all found each other in. you notice he's trying to hide a smile.

"okay sure!" you say with a small smile, relieved to know what the plan is for the night as well as to have someone to spend it with. the thought of not being alone relieves your fear massively, and then thought of dae ho being your partner made your twinge.

"may i stay here until it's my turn?" you ask gi hun, referring to your bunk that's across the X side of the room. "yes of course, it wouldn't be safe to walk all that ways in the night." gi hun replies. the reminder of the unsafe situation makes your skin crawl thinking about what could come throughout the night.

all you want is to just go home, but knowing that home wouldn't be much better makes your spirit falter. you've grown to enjoy being apart of your group, the community being something very starkly different than what you're used to. you had a few friends before coming to the game, but you were never super close. they probably haven't even noticed you're missing yet. as the brisk thought of them not having a clue of your whereabouts crosses your mind, you look around to the group who decided they would protect you throughout this before even knowing you. they're all talking amongst themselves, joking and being kind. its refreshing. it makes you forget all about where you are.

you decide that when you're out you wont be notifying your friends back home. you'll take the money and spend your time with the people you're with right now, the people who chose to care for you out of the kindness of themselves.

thinking about this makes you realize how much you don't want to stop spending your time with these people. your thoughts are interrupted by a soft hand on your shoulder. you turn and see dae ho.

you smile at him, and listen as he begins to tell you why he got your attention. "we should stay close together until its time for our watch. would you like to sleep in the bed next to mine?" he says with his normal confidence, all though you notice his voice faltering a bit when he asks you to sleep next to him. "of course dae ho, thank you for asking." you say smiling at him again.

"actually would you guys be okay taking the first watch, it would probably be the safest one." you hear from above you as you see jung baes head poking out of one of the taller bunks. you both agree and get out of bed heading to where gi hun designated the watch point of your little base.

after you get settled, an awkward silence falls on you. "do you really think that people will try to fight us tonight?" you ask dae ho in a whisper, trying to start a conversation but also speaking your worry in a way that might make you feel better. "I'm not sure, but gi hun said that's what happened last time. he didn't say it was every night though, so maybe we'll be okay tonight." he says in a soft but still confident tone. it makes you feel safer, knowing that fighting may not even break out tonight. his voice comforts you as well.

"what do you plan on doing with the money when you get out?" you ask him, looking up at him for the answer. "well first i would pay off some debts, then i think i would buy a house, or even an apartment depending on how much i get. and then after that i haven't really thought of anything." he says with a chuckle that brings a smile to your face. "what about you, y/n?" he asks you. "honestly the same as you. like exactly. I wanna pay off whatever I can and then settle down somewhere. and then I'm not sure." you say to him with a smile. you think its funny you both have the same plan.

"i think thats a great idea y/n." he says to you softly and genuinely. you've grown to really appreciate the way he speaks to you, to everyone. you smile at him again as another awkward silence falls over the two of you. "if you make way more than what you think you will, then what do you think you would do?" he asks sweetly, caring for your answer as well as to dissipate the silence. "I have no idea!" you say a little louder than you should've, with a hint of sarcasm. "i think maybe id get like a cool car or something i don't know." you say laughing at yourself. your laugh makes him smile.

"what would you do dae ho?" you ask him in return. "i might start up a business or something, like maybe a coffee shop or a little market." he answers. you find this endearing. "that's really interesting!" you reply. "that sounds really fun, maybe ill do that as well."

"maybe we could do it together."

he states, his mood shifting from small talk to something more.

"i would really like that." you reply.

"hey lovebirds its our turn to watch." jung bae says laughing with gi hun from behind the two of you. you wonder how long they've been standing there.

as you crawl back into the bed next to him, you begin to hope there was truth in jung baes words.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #dae ho x reader #kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #seong gi hun #dae ho

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russellbee · 3 days ago

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I MIGHT SAY SOMETHING STUPID (MV1)

max verstappen x driver!reader (team & gender are ambiguous) summary. you've never been good at talking to people. you can never form the right words, hold eye contact, or in worst cases, think before you speak. so truthfully, you're not really surprised when you end up confusing max with your spontaneous confession. unbeknownst to both of you, lando brings you back together. (writing, texts, + a bit of smau) (3.3k) warnings. for self-hate & mentions of hate comments, mentions of anxiety(!!!), everyone is confused and oblivious (except lando!), george and max rivalry is very present, mentions of alcohol & intoxication, use of y/n, reader has parents (and is close-ish with them), sorry if your name is spencer (the name is used for a friend), george doesn't have a gf(!!!), mentions of sex (but it’s really nothing), and cursing. andi's note!! inspired by my beautiful adhd brain 😍😍 (and my max obsession, ofc!) the title is from 'i might say something stupid' by charli xcx but the song doesn't have anything to do with the fic!

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You've seen multiple media outlets say that your mouth is disconnected from your brain with the amount of (accidental) out of pocket things you've said. Your first post-race interview in F1 ended with you severely embarrassed because you tried to make a joke but the way you worded it made it sound rude. You had backtracked as soon as you realized how it came off (honestly, it took too long) but you still had the comments you'd seen online stuck in your head.

Every season in F1 you get increasingly more nervous to talk in interviews or to the other drivers; the comments and articles gnawing at your self esteem. But with Max it's always been different. He can laugh off an unintentional brash remark or just raise an eyebrow and in a snap you'll realize what went wrong. So, because of how easy it is to talk to Max you've become close.

You're in Abu Dhabi, the season's ended and George Russell is getting on your nerves. He's in your sight, talking to Lando and Alex; laughing. You don't dislike George, he's always been nice to you but your love for Max trumps your like for George. Love?

You're just a little tipsy. It's fine.

As long as George doesn't go near you maybe you won't open your mouth. It's always hard to stop talking the second you get alcohol in your system; not a single word is filtered, it all just comes out.

Someone is staring at you, it better not be George because he knows what you'd do for—

"Are you alright?" Max sits down next to you, gin & tonic in hand. He's so— warm. His thigh is pressed against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his jeans. (It's not really warm enough for shorts but you couldn't remember the weather from last year, so you're stuck in a pair of shorts you brought to Qatar.)

"Huh?" What he said comes back to you and you stammer, "Oh, sorry. I'm fine just thinking. I guess."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah, y'know." You really are thinking; thinking about how good his cologne smells and wondering if it clings to him night and day. Does he always smell this great? How have you never noticed this?

"What are you thinking— Do you ever feel like, really obsessed with someone? Like you see them and you want them. Bad." You cut through his question with your own (stupid) question. Neither of you are looking at each other. You're too focused on not looking at him, actually. Why do you always do this? Did you never learn how to talk to people?

You're so busy panicking that you don't notice your eyes are still on George, and Max has noticed; his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had he been reading things wrong?

You're waiting at your gate when you get the text. You feel your phone buzz against your thigh and you hope, and hope that it's Max. You're terrified to message him first, worried he heard the meaning of your question and didn't want to acknowledge it. He hadn't said anything last night. Maybe he's finally sick of you. Can't even let him speak, or think before you talk with a single drop of alcohol in your body. You squeeze your eyes tight and will your brain to stop talking. Then, after a deep breath you open Whatsapp and see it's from Alex.

alex albon

did you tell max to apologise to george?

You blink. What? Never in your life would you think Max would apologize to George. You wouldn't tell him to either. What had gotten into him? Who would be able to change his mind like that?

alex albon

y/nnn

you have read receipts on ik you saw this

You sigh, trying to slow down your brain so you can make your thoughts coherent for Alex.

you

sorry i was thinking

didn't tell him to do that

idk why he would, it's not like him

alex albon

alright thanks 👍

i think we're all confused rn haha

Your boarding group is called and you feel a little bit of annoyance bubble in you. This is gonna be stuck in your mind for the entire flight.

the best rookies

lando

i think y/n likes george

or that's what max thinks at least

alex

and how did you come to this conclusion?

george

That makes no sense

Y/n and I don't talk that often

lando

i saw them together b4 y/n left

they were staring at us

prob george tho

considering everything

george

Many people stare at us, Lando

lando

you don't getttt it

max looked like

mad but confused?? he was very focused on you

and y/n looked like they wanted the earth to swallow them

v embarrassed yknow

alex

y/n probably just said smth wrong

can't really see them liking george

george

If anything, Y/n likes Max

lando

max doesn't care when they do that tho

ik y/n likes max thats like super obvious

ugh u guys dont get it at all 😒

You had practiced your speech for the awards, had repeated it over and over in your head. P3 in the championship, a first for you. Then you made a fool of yourself, stumbled over your words. People had laughed a bit, but in the back of your mind you acknowledge it had nothing to do with the jokes you attempted. At least you didn't have to take any more photos.

Lando finds you as you're about to leave, wiping the tears off of your cheeks and steadying your breathing. "You weren't that bad you know?" Lando teases and you let out a breathy laugh. "Fuck off." He laughs and you both start to leave the venue.

You make meaningless small talk. Lando is going to ski with friends and you'll be visiting a childhood friend, Spencer, in London. You're both anticipating a better season. The valets go to retrieve your cars, and you're both left standing on the sidewalk. It's a little humid, but not enough to make you want to blast the AC.

"Did you see George's post on Insta?" Lando asks after the silence has settled. Your face scrunches up, "Sorry?" You would've been fine to stay quiet until one of your cars arrived and you'd say goodbye. Lando had other plans, apparently.

"His post saying goodbye to Lewis. The last picture was nice, wasn't it?" You feel like there's something Lando's searching for but you can't put the pieces together. "I don't follow George on Insta. I— It's not like I don't like him, it's just. We're not really close?" Lando raises a brow, and it's not like when Max does it. It's something else, and you don't understand. You want to ask why, what he's thinking, but the valet parks your car in front of the sidewalk before you can.

Lando moves forward when the valet gets out, holding the driver's side door open for you. What is going on? You look at Lando, questions floating in your head and then hesitantly get into your car. "Have a nice off-season." Lando's grin is triumphant. Not like when he's at the top of a podium, something different and unfamiliar, yet kind.

"Yeah, thanks." Maybe you just don't know him well enough.

Lando double checks everything. He looks through his and George's mutuals and looks through the likes on George's end-of-season posts. He's never been more determined to prove Alex and George wrong. (And getting you and Max together, of course!)

Oscar looks at him weird 'cause he's grinning at his phone, then teases him, asks him if he's got a girlfriend. Lando laughs it off, because how is he supposed to say that he's investigating into some grid drama? That he's trying to understand what happened after Abu Dhabi, with you and Max? George has been ruled out as a player in this game, none of you are that close.

In London, you facetime your parents. They show you everything in their little villa that you rented out for them, the sandy beaches and the bright ocean. They tell you that they miss you and you repeat the sentiment. A part of you misses Max more, and you try to push that down.

Spencer orders pizza, and you both relax on the couch as you wait for it to arrive. They make a noise, a bit contemplative but unsurprised, and you look up from your own phone. Spencer's looking at you with a wolfish grin. "Oh, no."

"Have you seen this?" Their voice is teasing as they hand you their phone. It's opened to a post on the F1 Instagram account, the caption reads: Celebrating Max's 4th WDC with pictures of the best friendship on the grid 🏆. You gape slightly at the first picture; it's of you and Max in Zandvoort '23 on the podium. You both have bright smiles, your focus is on drenching Max with your champagne. He's laughing, accepting the spray. You don't bother to look at the rest, a sick feeling building in your stomach that you've begun to associate with Max. You know what it means, but you can't acknowledge it now. You haven't talked in over 2 weeks.

The pizza arrives and Spencer makes you pay. You can't get yourself to eat a lot, too stuck in your mind to acknowledge your hunger. When you lay in bed later that night, you feel sick. You know it's not the food, you know what it is. In the back of your mind you wonder if you'll ever be able to accept your feelings or if you'll just have to get over it.

lando norris has made a groupchat

monaco dinner 😁😁 (alex albon, george russell, max 🏆, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, you)

lando norris

alright everyone. need to know when you're all returning to monaco

"You're up to something," Oscar says from beside Lando. Lando raises a brow, a teasing grin on his lips. "Whatever do you mean, Osc?" His teammate rolls his eyes before scanning the table, landing at the empty seat next to George. Everyone is here, except you. Lando pretended he got a text from you saying that you'd be late, when in reality that's not the case. He told you the reservation was for twenty minutes later than he told everyone else. His plan needed to work and he didn't want you arriving earlier than intended.

"Y/n, someone who is always scared of coming late they come fifteen minutes early, isn't here. I'm assuming you have nothing to do with this?" Lando's grin grows wider. "Mate."

"Just wait."

You arrive at the restaurant 5 minutes early, since you had to walk and that led you to being noticed by some fans. When you go up to reception and say who you'll be sitting with, the host raises a brow before directing you to a table in the far back of the restaurant. Everyone is already there, drinks on the table. Worried, you look at your watch to see it isn't even the time Lando sent. You're early.

The only seat open is at the end of the table, to the right of George. It's also right across from Max. He looks surprised to see you, putting away his phone as you sit down. George says hi and asks you how your break has been so far. You make pleasant, friendly conversation with him. When Charles asks you a question you turn your attention to him, and notice that Max's mood has visibly soured. He must notice you looking, because he inserts himself into Alex and Carlos' conversation. You bite your cheek, trying not to seem annoyed or disappointed. You still haven't talked, and it's been seven weeks. He's liked your posts; the one from your trip to London, a set of gym photos your team took, and your photos from your other trip. No comments, just likes.

He doesn't talk to you for the rest of the dinner, instead he watches you make conversation with your other drivers. You stumble over your words, make mistakes and try to laugh it off. It's nice to talk to them, it just requires more energy. With Max, you don't have to worry about your never-ending rambling or your stories that tend to not make sense. It's easy. You miss it.

Dinner ends, you all split the check and go your separate ways. After getting your card back you head to the bathroom, just standing in silence for a few seconds. You need a break, especially if you run into some fans on your way home. The more you talk and force your brain to try, the more exhausted you get. The easier it is to snap or say something completely wrong. No one deserves to be on the receiving end of that.

You scrub your hands over your face, trying to wake yourself up. In your pocket your phone buzzes once. Then twice.

max 🏆

Are you still here?

I didn't see you leave.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you make yourself type slowly. Your hands are shaking. You need to get a grip.

you

yeah, haven't left yet

you're still here then?

max 🏆

Yep. Meet you at the entrance?

you

sure

As you leave the bathroom your brain has fired up again, what the fuck, repeating in your head consistently. Because, what the fuck? Why has Max all of a sudden decided to talk to you? What changed his mind?

He's standing in the waiting area, his plain white t-shirt covered by a jacket you recognize from the Alphatauri website. The corner of your lip twitches, as you fight back a smile. He's so predictable.

"Hey." His voice is quiet, like he was scared that you were lying. Like you'd hide in the bathroom till he left. Even though you're mad at him, you can't see yourself doing that, ever.

"Hi. Um, nice break so far? We haven't talked a lot," You let out an awkward laugh, cringing internally. Why did you bring that up? And in the first sentence too?

"I'm sorry about that, I've been busy," Max's smile is weak and your heart deflates a bit because you know when he's lying. He doesn't do it often, so it's easy to tell. "I meant to text you, really." But that isn't a lie. Huh. You stare at him for a second trying to make sense of what's going on.

"Did you drive here?"

"No, didn't have time to get gas. I mean— I did, I just forgot because I've been doing other stuff." Max smiles and everything feels almost normal again. The seven weeks of silence still looms over the conversation, like it's preparing to end your friendship forever. "I'll drive you. You didn't move, right?" He has a smile on his face, the one when he's trying to be funny. You feel that sick feeling building, and your skin warms.

"No, I should though. Apparently my neighbor almost set the complex on fire, and the one across from me she— she did something weird, I can't remember. But I know it caused a meeting for the building about some policy and everyone was really mad at her," You ramble, voice picking up as you get that giddy feeling, when you know you're really being listened to. Max leads you to his car and you get into the passenger seat. On the drive to your building, you finally remember the reason why your neighbor got in trouble.

"She got in trouble because she had sex on her balcony or something, and then someone saw and reported it. Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot that!" You laugh, face scrunching with your smile.

"Your neighbor?"

"Yes!" It feels really good to talk to Max again, to feel a true connection when you talk to him.

lando norris

hey mate

how's y/n?

max

Good?

Do you not have her number?

lando norris

no haha sorry

thought you guys were dating

things seemed off just wanted to make sure

max

Right.

We're fine

lando norris

but not dating? (max has reacted with 👍)

Everything has been good with Max. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders now that you can talk to him again. You flew with him to Bahrain and now Australia. Media day is tomorrow, and Lando has texted you asking if you want to go explore, like neither of you have ever been to Melbourne. You say yes, anyway.

You're in the elevator going down to the lobby, when it stops at another floor. George is standing on the other side of the doors, and he smiles at you as he walks in. "Hanging out with Max?" He asks as the doors slide shut.

"No, Lando invited me out. He said he wanted to explore, which I don't really understand because he's been to Melbourne multiple times. Also, Oscar's his teammate so, I don't—," You stop yourself. "It'll probably be fun though, it's Lando."

"Lando invited you out?"

"Uh— Yeah? Why?"

"He invited me out as well, that's all." Oh.

Is he trying to set you and George up? The thought hits you like a truck and your nose scrunches up involuntarily. First, the questions about his Instagram and then making you sit next to him at dinner. You feel warm, anger building inside you. Is Lando oblivious?

↳ user since when are they friends????

↳ user you left out the part that lando was with them 💀

You and George walk back together, an awkward silence hanging over you. It was a fun day. You took pictures, ate good food. You had fun. It was just awkward because it seemed both you and George knew what Lando was trying to do.

You're waiting for the elevator when George turns toward you. You shift your eyes toward him, trying to make sense about what he's about to do. "Do you like me?"

Your eyes widen and for a moment all you can do is stare at George. "No, I— I don't know where Lando got the idea that I like you, but I don't." You're trying to be nice in case George does actually like you, but he lets out a breath of relief.

"I'm really sorry, Lando is..."

"He's Lando, I know." The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You both walk in and George hits the button for your floors. "You do like Max though, right?" Once again you find yourself speechless. George laughs, cheeks turning red.

"Sorry, it's— It's really obvious, I don't know how Lando missed it." You're burning with embarrassment when you look away from George and mutter, "It's not that obvious." He cracks up, and you feel yourself growing warmer.

Thankfully for you, George gets off soon enough and it's just you. When you step off the elevator, you notice someone leaning against the wall by your door, scrolling on their phone. They look up when you come to a stop. It's Max, in another plain t-shirt and skinny jeans. You may hate the skinny jeans but they really show off his thighs, so it's not that bad. "Hi."

Max walks over to you, stopping so there's only a few inches between you. You can smell his cologne, see how blue his eyes are, and how his hair is a little out of place. He opens his mouth to speak but you speak before he can. "You look good, I mean—," You cut yourself off to prevent the inevitable ramble about how good he looks; your friends have heard it numerous times. Max blinks, the beginning of a smile on his face before he leans in and kisses you.

You make a little noise in surprise before you reciprocate, you reach for him blindly, grabbing onto his shoulder. It's easy kissing Max. You've been waiting for this, the soft press of his lips against yours, the heat of his hand against your face. The same sick feeling rests in your stomach, and you feel it; the way your heart speeds up when he's near and the hot flush that builds on your skin when he touches you. You never want it to end.

yourusername close friends story

[caption: @.maxverstappen1 🤍]

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lando OMG DID IT FINALLY HAPPEN??

yourusername yes...? lando oh thank god my plan worked i was so close to locking you two in a closet yourusername HUH????

#russellbee; writing #russellbee; mv1 #russellbee; driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x driver!reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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baepsays · 1 day ago

Text

Suck it and See ⸻ how you met stoner Suguru.

description: of all places, Geto Suguru didn't expect to meet a girl with knee high socks, who practically pulled him in like an eager sacrifice to the Siren— at a frat party surrounded by smoke.

cw: use of she/her pronouns, fem oriented reader, mentions of drugs, weed, and alcohol; nothing much this is mostly a meet cute-ish, lore stuff really, artic monkeys references everywhere, they mild nsfw stuff.

playlist inspired by the content.

What a pleasure it is to be surrounded by sweaty people you barely know in a room full of smoke. All because your best friend is an extroverted social butterfly of a freak.

Safe to say, Geto Suguru would be anywhere but here right now. But maybe he does need some free alcohol and free cigarettes, a finance degree is the furthest thing from causation of sobriety. And as an average university student reliant on caffeine, alcohol, and cigarettes—completing his last semester and starting his big-time finance bro job later this year might I add—he is oddly conservative when it comes to weed though, if we're talking about ways to numb yourself.

The fact he has seen people actually do much worse actual hard drugs and yet he has a bigger opinion about the devil's lettuce of all things available out there. The only viable reason which can be given is that he had a stoner roommate during his first semester and it was the worst time of his entire university life. And honestly, he has seen Gojo get high for the sake of trying it, that was not fun for anyone but Shoko who was filming Suguru trying to stop Gojo from jumping off the balcony to chase a cat he apparently saw (there was no cat).

But these are excuses really. Well, Geto Suguru would not say he is repulsed by weed. In fact, he has tried it himself once. It was mostly about going along with his high school debate team who wanted to get high during one of their out-of-town tournaments. And guess what. High Suguru went on and blurted out all his little animosities to big grudges against everyone there and somehow fell asleep next to a trashcan in the hallway. Thankfully no one remembered and the video footage of all of this happening went into his hands first. He made sure to delete everything and ask around without being suspicious if anyone remembered anything he said. He was safe since they all forgot about everything.

Since then, he has steered clear of weed, it does odd things to him which no other substances do. Even when he is drunk out of his mind or buzzing with caffeine and nicotine, he is never impulsive. He always has control. And the fact he let that control slip is very scary. Matter of fact, despite his side hobby of making fun of a scared Gojo during horror movie marathons, Suguru himself didn't like being scared by something unknown or letting himself slip out in front of someone he would rather not have seen him like that .

Yet here he was, at one of the more famous frats who are known for their weed more than their alcohol and what not. I mean, it's not about where you end up but what you're looking for, right? Maybe that doesn't make much sense but so doesn't his last assignment of the semester before exams start, which carries 40% of his marks.

And for someone who isn't looking for weed, his amazing friend makes sure to pull him right into the room full of—who apparently seemed to be—stoners. Supposedly Satoru knows someone there, but he also knows way too many people for his liking. The amount of time he has to stop, stand, and stare around to wait for Satoru to finish chatting with yet another stranger—infinite really.

Regrets of ending up in that room without any alcohol in his hand, seemed to have flown right out of the room with the smoke. And it might as well have been the residual of weed in the air, but what's happening in his head was alarming. Right across from the person Satoru apparently knew, sat this gorgeous being, looking ever so effervescent and oozing mystique surrounded by clouds of smoke (he is a poet everyone). Wearing, what in his mind seemed like, the most poorly constructed skirt, practically giving away the secret eighth wonder of the world—which are those thighs. And is that fishnet? Someone please check on him, is he having a nosebleed? If not, that tight top perfectly snug around your chest, might do the job. More over the breasts, it was the neck. How can someone find a neck that beautiful? I wouldn't know, ask Suguru.

Real question is who wears knee high socks in the summer? He is not complaining, it somehow really works for you, and it works wonders on him. Again, it might be the weed. It has to be, because Geto Suguru, who is the most calculated person you'll know—sly little shit who is known for being the level headed, mysterious, lady's man— he may be just as much of a menace as Gojo and just as silly, he just knows how to mask it. And he's losing it. He's losing that control, because why aren't his ears working? His eyes refuse to focus on anything but you dragging a smoke out of the joint, which was passed to you by someone. And his legs are moving on their own towards the couch where you are sitting with the only person who you seem remotely interested in, 'might be her friend' he assumes, while ignoring this other guy who seems to be high off his mind talking about who knows what. His ears already made the effort of blocking out every sound, including Gojo's, who was calling him out because he wanted to introduce Suguru to his friend.

"Hey"

Real smooth from Mr. Lady's man over here. Incredible opener to introduce yourself to this person who may or may not be a witch cause why is he completely under this sort of trance as if he is the one sucking on that joint. Also, the fact he is just awkwardly standing in front of you while you look up at him through your lashes, unbothered and definitely high, still sitting on that couch—he must've inhaled too much weed smoke.

"Did you mean to say that to me? Because I think your friend needs you over there actually."

You say after blinking at him twice, then point across to you where Gojo and his friend are sitting. It's rather a given to be confused by this random long-haired Rapunzel to awkwardly stand before you like he doesn't know any better about how to interact socially, he's not drunk definitely, you saw him and his friend stroll in through the doors just a few minutes ago. Why would you even bother to care enough to remember that? Well, Rapunzel here is too gorgeous for his own good, secondly, you're high and feeling rather needy.

Pre-finals week suck, universal sentiment shared by all degree pursuing students. So here you are on this couch, in some frat, with your friend who's seeing one of the frat members. All you expected was some good quality rich boy weed and alcohol, nothing more really. Sleeping with someone you met at a frat party, reeks of STDs. And yet here you are looking at this gorgeous man looking like he doesn't have any thoughts behind his eyes, contrary to what you assumed, from afar he looked like a manipulative man whore. The world might be full of surprises or he's a theatre major.

"Huh?" — is all Suguru somehow manages to utter, it's illegal to smell that good while also smelling like weed, what god forsaken perfume you're using? Those eyes are enough, why do you need to crawl through all his five senses and wrap your hands around his brain.

"Huh." You say with one raised eyebrow. Seems like you've found yourself an excuse to escape.

"Seems like you don't know anything other than three lettered words starting with h."

He just stares into your eyes and lets you throw that jab at him. Really just too enchanted to speak, it's not that this is something he's choosing to do. He'd rather sit across from you and socialize with Gojo, while staring you down from time to time, then after much considerable eye contact, he'll slide himself to your side of the couch, asking your permission to have a seat, with much charisma no one can deny.

Yet here he is, not drunk, or losing his mind with weed—purely high off of sucking in your presence. This is only the second time he has lost control over a situation, and this time he is completely sober. New discoveries are made every second he supposed. Because if a sly talker like him, one who especially finds existential joy in countering the opposing person's jabs, is standing here tongue tied—he believes climate change can be reversed then. (How wishful)

You get off the couch to stand facing him, way too close to him for his sanity's sake, between the narrow gap between him and the couch—you might be shorter than him but your gaze is too piercing. And yet he cannot look away.

"Would you rather I dragged you out of this room? Maybe the smoke is getting to your head huh?"

Takes a second for Suguru to contextualize what you just suggested. And without any power to verbally respond, he simply nods into agreement. Somehow in that moment his incognizant brain decided that maybe leaving himself to your devices in this situation is the most natural thing to do. In fact, you might as well have all consumed him and he couldn't care any less.

All he cares about is that you're taking his hands in your hands, which made him think it might be a missing puzzle piece that only fits in perfectly with his, and dragging him out after a little bye to your friend and Gojo as well. Suguru is really out of it. He's not going to hear the end of it from Gojo, while he retells this story to their friends in the most overexaggerated way, which is so impossible given how ridiculous he is acting right now. Anything less dramatic than a Shakespearean play wouldn't do justice to exactly what played out in there. Yet Gojo Satoru will make sure to put a shame to Shakespeare's dramatics. That's his headache for later, let's focus on the ache in his palpitating heart.

You drag him out of that room, into the big living room or space and then drag him through the crowd to one of the rooms on the first floor, and take him straight to the balcony attached to it. The balcony sits right above the pool. Below you two, you can see most people congregating around there, swimming or just dancing or talking. Most of the speakers are there playing every frat bro's Spotify rotation probably. It's dark enough and tucked away nicely for anyone to notice you two there even if they look up—you saw this balcony the first time you visited this house with your friend cause of the guy she was seeing and since it was not a party, it was clear in the daylight that it was a nice place to people watch from. Or just enjoy the music,

'And her lips are like the galaxy's edge

And her kiss the colour of a constellation fallin’ into place'

Suguru couldn't agree more. If he didn't know any better— he'd say the song was about you. Because right now he is pulling out the lighter out of his pockets. Moving it towards your direction and halting halfway in the little space in between you two. Suguru wouldn't write this out as some kind gesture. He would never even think of sharing his prized lighter. It has been with him since he found it one day visiting his grandma's village home with his parents. Lying in a puddle of mud near the river that flowed behind her house. Scratch random people he wouldn't even let Satoru touch it or let Shoko take a light with it. Yet here he is— silently helping you out all because it looked like with the roll of a joint tucked in your bra, you forgot to bring a light.

You stare back and forth between the burning flame and his face. Contemplating perhaps. Then you move forward grab a hold on his hand, which was holding up the lighter, just a bit far for you to easily lean in and ignite the blunt. So you move, move to now sit face to face with him, both your knees on either side of his thighs—hovering over him, hands holding his, which was holding his silver lit up lighter. You lean forward probably closer to his face than the lighter even, all while keeping constant eye contact. You move your head to your left and finally burn the joint pressed in between your lips, after what seemed like an eternity.

Once the smoke comes out, you unwrap your lips from the joint and smile at Suguru, not one of those half smiles you've been throwing at him all this time. A genuine laidback smile.

"Thanks uh- oh wait I don't even know your name"

"Well I haven't given it to you yet."

"You gave me your lighter, might as well give me your heart. How much more could your name matter?"

Well he might as well have given you his heart and what even is in the name, if he could he would give you the entirety of the galaxy, but It would probably fade out in your comparison.

"Suguru. Geto Suguru."

"Nice to meet you Suguru."

"And what more might you need other than my lighter, heart, and name in exchange for your name?"

"I don't know? Anything tempting you are offering? Perhaps a seat right here?"

Did you mean right there? There on his lap?

"I wouldn't ever deny you anything."

So you did in fact mean his lap. Cause you perch right up on there and drag a long smoke out of your joint, blowing the smoke up in the sky above you two.

"L/n Y/n. And I'll hold you onto that claim."

"Do you always ask people for names in exchange for a seat on their lap?" Suguru smirks and tries to regain some confidence and control over the situation. If he wants to keep you right where you are, he would need to get out of the haze of intoxication — which was ironically not the weed in the air but just your existence.

"I never really ask for names. Really bad at remembering them. And as for seats, hmm I don't know. Your legs looked more comfortable and warm than the cold floor. And you looked sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Why? Does that not describe your —chase Atlantic and Artic Monkeys, cigarette smoker, fuck weed i am better than that, only dark colors— aesthetic?"

"How did you know I don't like weed?"

"Made a face right as you walked into the room down there. Also anyone else would've asked to borrow this by now." You move the blunt in between your fingers slightly to signify what you're talking about.

"Does that not bother you?"

"I mean it doesn't bother you that I am smoking this right in your face, if you had said something I would've respected that as well. I don't really care what you think is the standard for intoxication."

Suguru just smiles. He doesn't really have a topic exactly to speak about. He is in fact not capable of doing much right now you've rid him of the taste of control and the only taste he wants to be acclimated with from this moment onwards is yours. And he doesn't care about this change. He knows your name, he knows the feel of your fishnets against your skin. He knows the material of your lethal skirt. He knows the vanilla and jasmine notes of your perfume. He knows the exact color of your eyes and how many eyelashes you have. And he thinks that is enough.

'You have got that face that just says

"Baby, I was made to break your heart"'

You might as well break his heart, do as you please with it. It burnt away from his grasp the moment you burnt the end of your joint using his lighter.

"Looks like they are more intoxicating than any drug in existence." Was he talking about the blunt? Because his eyes were aimed at your lips. And he was unaware of what he even let slip out of his own lips.

"Suck it and see. You never know."

Not wasting a second with your unaware confirmation, Suguru moves forward. The hand on your fishnet clad thigh tightens, digging into the supple skin, weaving the fingers with the fishnet itself. The other hand, coming up to your lips, taking out the joint and throwing it out somewhere on the balcony, his fingers first touch your lips with light touches as if one touch is too heavy and you'll disperse into thin air. Slowly the fingers on your lips start pressing down on, well past both of your lips, making an audible gasp leave your mouth involuntarily. His fingers dig around the entrance to your mouth— rubbing your lips, then proceeds to press down on your tongue and graze over your teeth interchangeably. All while staring into your eyes, or staring at you, your eyes might as well be all white or shut close. Anything partially visible, is all a blur.

And you allow him all of it. You allow him to twist his fingers up to rub his rough finger pads on the along the expanse of your hard palate and soft palate, borderline trying to choke you. You simply allow it. You allow those hands to explore parts of you even out of your own reach. One digging in your mouth, other trying to make itself at home on your thighs—practically memorizing every little stretch mark running along your skin. He wants to know it all, have it all and who are you to deny a starved man?

When he's had enough of his little exploration, his own pairs of lips come crashing down on you. A sigh of almost a relief, leaves both your lungs. It is not quite relief, it is nice to finally have him kiss you—but his lips are the kind to leave your head dizzy, head swaying, forgetful of the whole process of breathing through your nose while he devours you, eyes flickering like unreliable headlights on the highway. You might as well be crashing out.

His lips are caging in yours, tongue fencing with yours, hands roaming around you like he's gonna find the most prized treasure on the surface of your skin. Guiding your hips to force down on his lap and roll them into little grids of desperation. Who was exactly the desperate one here?

At that point it all becomes too overwhelming to have your ability to breath taken away. So you push him off, with no ease. It was as if pushing him and pulling yourself back simply made him hold onto you harder. And when his lips did leave you alone, they go on to chase your lips to find his rightful place back on them.

You put one of your hands on his mouth to halt him, all that does is make you have goosebumps all over your body—having him look up to you with his desperate and hazed mono lids, the purple-brownish shade of his pupils burning you up. And him just heaving in your hand, short of breath, was of no help either.

“I was talking about the joint.” you breath out with an exasperated sigh.

“Well I am not sorry.” He leaves a feather light kiss on your hand covering his mouth.

“What even are you?” Genuinely, how does a man with gorgeous hair and horrible vocabulary make you fold so easily?

“‘I am a fool for you.”

A/N: dividers by @/sister-lucifer & @/omi-resources, header from my own gallery. And I didn't proofread half of this ok IT IS HARD TO READ YOUR OWN WORK

more of stoner!suguru chronicles.

To check out more of my work— click here.

tag list: @moonlitwitchdaisy @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @fuwagojo @aishi-toru @theorphicangel

if you would like to be added to future possible tag lists, please drop a comment and feel free to send asks! i got a few anon asks about this but unfortunately idk their @'s :(

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kirbmey · 2 days ago

Text

　 ྀི︶˚̣̣̣⠀⠀⠀arguing w bigbrother!caleb⠀⠀⠀˚̣̣̣︶ ྀི

synopsis: as much as you love your older brother you end up second guessing him, tired of only being allowed to talk to him and wishing you had some friends like other girls did ૮𐔌っ˕ -｡꒱ྀི𑁬

tw: angst, caleb slaps reader, they argue (obviously), tons of manipulation, rape mentions, drug mentions, caleb’s a fake to people, pathetic reader, overall this is really toxic, etc.

caleb was waiting for you parked in front of your uni, toying around with the necklace you gifted him when you were kids while his mind drifted away.

he was so excited for today, friday’s being his favorite days of the week since he took you out to eat and then had a walk by the meadowy park near your house. it was simple but he enjoyed every second he shared with you.

he didn’t need much more than that, really. he just needed you.

all the girls at your uni were hands down for your handsome older brother, trying to approach him every chance they’d get and getting politely rejected, even though he felt disgusted by them and thought they were vulgar whores; he was pretty good at hiding it.

you, on the other hand, started to feel lonelier each passing day.

ever since you were a kid you shared all of your time with caleb up until now. you told him everything, lived every moment together. there was no memory in which he didn’t appear.

and you really really liked that, you wouldn’t want that to change. but there’s been the longing for a friend, someone who wasn’t caleb, someone new.

you’ve always tried to get to know some of your classmates, feeling a little bit guilty when you disobeyed your big brother’s orders. it wasn’t hard for you to socialize, you were actually very good at it!

a nice sweet girl with a pretty voice and soft smile? who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?

well, every single time you thought you made a friend they would separate ways with you in a couple days, which made you feel sad and insecure.

why are they living you so fast, were you rude, said something bad, appeared weird perhaps?

far from reality the only one to blame was caleb, who had his eyes glued to you every second of the day and didn’t miss on how you tried you break free from the brainwash he managed to give you throughout the years.

he learnt this would happen every so often, and stopped confronting you about it long ago.

yes, he used to argue with you about this kinda thing, complaining about you getting along with other people and playing the victim, crocodile tears down his face as he begged you to never leave him.

so what he’d do now it’s confront the person in question directly, maybe to threat them, maybe to beat them up, maybe to kill them if they got too annoying.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“hey, pips, how was today?” he asked with a boyish smile plastered on his round lips, frowning when he noticed your crossed arms and pouty face, not even greeting him and looking out the window to avoid his purple eyes.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i’m talking to you.” he mentioned your name in a serious manner, locking the doors before grabbing both your cheeks with one of his big hands to make you face him.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i want to go to the party.” you simply muttered, avoiding his gaze while you tried to pull away from his grip, making him wrap your throat now. “we’ve already talked about that, princess. and it’s still a no.”

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“but mom and dad said i could go!” you complied, crossing your arms again. a tantrum is the last thing he needed from you today.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“mom and dad don’t know what’s best for you. i do.” he spat, letting you go and mimicking your pose now. “you wanna know what goes down at these frat parties, hmm?” caleb challenged you, tracing the shape of the steering wheel while speaking.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“there’s people getting high on anything they can find, fainting, vomiting because of how drunk they are, fucking everywhere.” he knew the party you wanted to attend was nothing like that, your classmates telling about the party to your parents and describing it as ‘chill’ and ‘safe’.

caleb totally believed that, they seemed fucking boring.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“what? no, that’s not true! you’re a big liar!” you yelled at him, feeling how his hand collided against your cheek; you knew you crossed the lane when you raised your voice at him. so you just took it, going silent after that.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“if you wanna get drugged and raped by the whole fucking class the go ahead, i’m done with this conversation.” he spat, engine vibrating beneath your feet as he drove you two back home. what a failure of a friday.

the whole drive you sat down there, tears rolling down your face as you quietly whimpered, cleaning them with the sleeves of your sweater.

you just wanted to make friends and go on a party for once to at least die knowing how it feels to be like the other girls. but that made your gege upset, and you loved him more than anything, more than you loved yourself.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“it hurts me more than it hurts you.” caleb broke the silence after parking in front of your house, resting his head against the headrest and sighing, looking at you now.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“‘m sorry, gege. i’m being selfish.” your voice trembled, reaching out for his hand to hold it up against your lips, kissing it several times, tears wetting his pale skin.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i don’t like hurting you like this, you know that. why you make me do it, doll. why can’t you just listen?” he kept on questioning you, his palm pressing against the cheek he slapped minutes prior, caressing the imprint his fingers left.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i know, i know, i’m truly sorry. please forgive me, please gege. i love you.” you kept on apologizing, rubbing yourself against the attention he gave you, feeling the tears fall again and again.

he wasn’t faced by your crying. sure, he didn’t like to see you cry, but he knew he had to be strict with you in order to make you behave. you really hurt his feelings and you had to know your actions had consequences.

it took him a few days to completely forgive you, days in which you had to wake up without him, in which you had to cook for yourself and come back home by foot all alone.

days in which you remembered your gege was all that mattered in your life and realized that you didn’t need any friends, because no one would know how to treat you or take care of you like your old brother did.

and just like that caleb got away with it again, torturing you to make you behave, obliging you to live without him even if it was just a couple of days to make you see how much you actually needed him.

you finally understood after all; no friends, only caleb. you made yourself believe you were okay with that. ⠀ ⠀ 　　　

a/n: this was a request from an anon! I hope you like it, bunny. I feel like i outdid myself with this one, this is how i see caleb in my mind fr ᥩྀི ´ ᩳ ` ꒱

— masterlist.

#lads headcanons #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #caleb headcanons #lads caleb smut #love and deepspace fic #caleb smut #caleb x reader

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maeedrg · 3 days ago

Text

What are we ?

part 2

fake dating trope Gojo X fem reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

part 1 part 2

Synopsis : Now everyone thinks you are dating the great Gojo Satoru. You are sent on a mission with him in the mountains, and realize that it’s actually a sweet honey trap made by the elders to hope you will come back with a ring on your finger, or a possible heir. What is wrong with them ?! And what is wrong with this sexual tension ? He is your best friend, for fuck’s sake !

Words count : 7.6k.

Warnings : fluff, romantic comedy, blood, sexual tension, slight smut, some dry humping (kinda), slight angst.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I’m back with part 2 !!! I wrote it in less than a week after the part 1, I hope the part 3 will be out soon as well. Enjoy <3

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡

Against your will, Satoru and you were stuck playing pretend. Being his fake girlfriend for one night, became for another day, and then a week, and then already two weeks. Since the gathering, the gossip went faster than you thought, and quickly EVERYONE in the jujutsu society knew that The Strongest had a partner, to the point that even your own students were curious about it. Hearing Nobara saying she couldn’t believe that someone would ever want to date her obnoxious professor was somewhat funny, and embarrassing at the same time.

Because now, you have to lie to their face, and the worst is that Satoru was amused, and actually took pleasure in these shenanigans. He claps his hand with yours, kissing it in front of a disgusted Megumi, a shocked Nobara and an impressed Yuji.

“Is he even treating you well, L/n ? Blink twice if you are dating Gojo against your will !” exclaims Megumi, stepping closer, meanwhile Yuji tries to muffle his laughter.

You look at the teenager, and intend to not smile at his panicked expression. If the poor boy knew… You agreed, but didn't expect that dating Gojo would last more than a night. He wasn’t even your real boyfriend. So, deciding to tease the white haired professor, you blink. One, twice, and Megumi gasps loudly.

“I knew it !” he says glaring at your supposed abuser, but Gojo puts his hand over your eyes to stop you from blinking again, bringing you against him.

“Hey, she’s lying ! Y/n, don’t be mean like that…” whines the so-called Strongest, and you squirm, laughing.

“Professor, I believe you ! You both look very much in love !” insists Yuji innocently, and you can’t help but flutter at him saying that. You couldn’t see the facial expression Satoru did, his hand still covering your eyes. But you wondered if the pink haired student said that because you both acted well in front of everyone, or if because your real feelings were slowly showing a bit too much. Fuck, you thought you weren’t obvious. You hoped Satoru only saw it as you being good at pretending, and nothing more.

“Well, I know she is head over heels. I mean, who wouldn’t ?” Gojo scoffs playfully, being fakely arrogant in his tone of voice.

“You say that, but you are the one that admitted you had a crush on y/n since you were 15,” adds Nobara, but the moment she started her sentence, the hands of Satoru left your eyes to instead cover your ears. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the chance to hear what the brown haired one said.

“Uh ?” you mutter, confused, and Satoru looks down at you with rosy cheeks, shaking his head.

“Your amazing professors need to go now, kiddos. We have a train to take, so get up, go study or something !” exclaims Satoru, freeing your audition and sliding his arm around your shoulders to make you follow him. They all grumble before saying goodbye, and you wave at them as well. Indeed, you had an unexpected mission with Satoru to attend to. One that was located 3 hours away by bullet train from Tokyo. The higher ups were sudden when ordering the two of you to go there, resulting in having to stay sleeping at the location in a hotel. Not that it bothered you, just that it strangely was… out of nowhere.

“Kids these days…” he sighs, and you glare at Satoru, side-eying him. He looks back at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Ok, you grandpa. And why did you stop me from hearing what Nobara said ? If she said something embarrassing about you that I don’t know, then well… I want to know !” you protest, and he looks away sheepishly, which makes you frown at his unexpected behavior.

“Ahahahah…. nahhhh. Nothing, don’t worry about that,” he replies, acting nonchalant and shrugging off what happened as if it was nothing special or interesting.

“Satoru, don’t bullshit me,” you sigh, getting even more curious now as you lean closer to him. But he keeps a poker face, before sliding his sleeve and looking at his expensive watch.

“Oh my god, look at the time ! Quick, we’ll be late at the train station !” he says panicked, but you knew better than to believe him, because last time you checked, you still had 2 hours before you. Yet, he doesn’t let you really protest as he grabs you again, and makes you dash with him in the corridor of the campus.

“Hey, we aren’t even late !”

“Time is just an illusionnnn !” he answers with what looks like a mysterious voice.

“This doesn’t even make any sense !” you retort, exasperated.

Satoru dragged you with him, forcing you to run, get your bag and rush towards the car of Ijichi, the poor black haired man startled to see the two of you dash in his direction. It didn’t take longer than two minutes for the car to rumble and then it engaged in the road.

Once you arrive at the station, finding where your train was located and then entering it, sitting down after putting both of your bags with your necessities for the night in the right compartment, you can finally breathe. Satoru and you were alone in the wagon of the bullet train, but too shaken from this supposed race against time, you don’t question it more. You sigh deeply, looking at the sun setting and then at the person sitting next to you. His long legs were kind of cramped, so you somewhat feel bad for him.

“So it’s some upper grades in the mountains ? Maybe once we arrive at the hotel, even if it will be already late, we should go see around the forest to do some scouting,” you propose, breaking the silence as Satoru turns his face to look down at yours.

“Agreed, but believe me, this mission will go quicker than you think,” he affirms confidently, shrugging before taking off some candies from his bag and opening it, munching on one.

“Why are you so sure about it ?” you ask as he gives you some candies as well that you gladly accept and eat. Oh, way too sweet… Satoru looks at you and even if his blindfold is covering his eyes, you see how his facial expression changes.

“Y/n, be for real. The higher ups are sending us together to this mission on purpose. Now that they think we are dating, they have a new goal in mind,” he explains as if it was logical, and you swallow before dusting your hands from the sugar.

“Which is ?” you pressure him to elaborate more on the matter, not sure about what he was implying.

“Probably making us have babies as fast as possible, since they think I’m some kind of dog ready to breed,” he spats, rolling his eyes and munching more aggressively on the candy. You almost choke on your saliva.

“What the hell- and how can they even plot this when sending us to fight some curses ?” you answer, not believing it. After what happened at the gathering two weeks ago, you quickly understood the expectations the elders had for Gojo. Some of them are marriage and heirs. But here it was backfiring on you. At first, you thought they would stop pestering him with questions of arranged marriage. They did stop, nonetheless it’s a matter of you now ! You just were supposed to act like his girlfriend for one night, not to be questioned about becoming his wife and starting a family !

“Did you even check the location of the hotel ?” he asks, turning more on his seat to face you better.

“I did, so what ?”

“There is an onsen, many places to sightsee, and overall, it’s a touristic place that a lot of newlyweds go to for their honeymoon. Very romantic, if you know what I mean. So they basically send us on a date to hope for something to happen,” he explains, looking at you before trailing his gaze on the window.

“Are they serious right now ?” you question deadpan.

“Yep. I mean, it’s nothing cute. They don’t care if we enjoy it or not, they just hope that you either come back with a ring on your finger, or pregnant,” he sighs, shrugging. You don’t answer, your eyes not leaving him as you assimilate what he just said.

No way, no fucking way… Do they really want this ? First of all, Satoru is not even your boyfriend, so this situation was way more embarrassing. But even if he was, that still was wrong.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that ! I didn’t choose it either,” he whines, defending himself as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“God… why is their mindset so old fashioned ?!” you groan, taking your face in your hands, exasperated.

“Y/n, don’t worry. We deal with the curses and just enjoy the place like some free weekend, or some break from their annoying faces, yeah ?” he proposes, his hand gently ruffling your hair to sooth you down and lighten the mood.

“Alright, I wanted to relax anyway, so this is good, I guess,” you finish to answer, trying to stay positive. Satoru smiles at you, and like that, the train starts to move.

You were stuck here for three hours. Either you were listening to the yap of Satoru, or you were laughing with him. Yet, you grew tired. Today was a long day, and the night was already up in the sky. You lay more comfortably against your seat, and plug on your earphones. You decide to listen to some music, and Satoru notices that. He doesn’t even need to ask, you already are offering him one of your earphones. He grins and puts it on his ear. As the song starts, you look at the scenery.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and Gojo looks at you, before softly pressing your head against his shoulder. You relax, feeling more at ease in this position, and close your eyes. The movement of the train lulls you to sleep, and Satoru takes your phone, knowing the password, and changes the playlist to something more calm.

He stares at you as you soon fall asleep, and gently, the back of his fingers caress your cheek. He smiles to himself, taking his own phone carefully to not wake you up, and then he snaps a picture. Here it goes in his gallery and folder of pics he has with you for years. Something he valued to keep, and enjoyed looking at whenever he was feeling lonely, far away on a mission overseas.

It would be a lie to say that Satoru wasn’t excited at the idea of this mission, curious to see how it will unfold. Yeah, curious, that’s what he told himself.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

As you arrived, the first thing you both did was to register in the hotel. A reservation was already made, and you look around the luxurious place while walking inside the elevator. Satoru leans against the wall, looking down at you.

“What do you think the room will look like ? There is only one bed, you know,” he starts to ask, taping his finger against his bicep when crossing his arms.

“We sleep in the same bed everytime we hangout, don’t make a big deal out of it,” you shake your head, too tired to indulge his weird antics for the rest of the evening. After all, last time, you both ended up sleeping in a hotel room, and Satoru even had to give you his shirt so you wouldn’t be butt naked. The aftermath of the hangover was special… but you were used to chaos with him.

“You’re no fun, come on, I’m sure the room will be decorated with roses and shit,” he taunts you, getting closer as he balances himself on his other leg. You look at him through the mirror.

“No, they will not go that far,” you chuckle nervously, and now, he stands behind you, looking at you too through the mirror.

“Well, if the reservation is made under the idea of us being newlyweds…” he muses playfully.

“We don’t even have rings on our fingers !” you reply, and the doors of the elevator open. Satoru steps back, you follow suit and roam through the corridor.

“You think they care ?” he scoffs, taking the keys they gave you earlier, and he slowly opens the door of your assigned room. You enter first, searching for the light.

“Well, it’s just some logic- oh lord,” you cut yourself the moment you manage to illuminate the room. Eyes wide open, you stare at a big king sized bed with flowers creating a heart on the sheets, and some romantic decorations in the spacious place, on the walls, the floor, etc.

“Told ya, sweetheart,” whispers Satoru smugly in your ear. You shiver head to toe and enter quickly, looking around dumbfounded. He takes off his blindfold to look around better.

“What the fuck ?” you say, narrowing your eyes and not believing what you were seeing. You laugh, taking some of the flowers in your hands. You feel bad that they took the time to arrange a romantic room, all that to not be used in the end. You would lie too if you didn’t feel flustered at the idea of actually doing something with Satoru. No, you should snap out of it.

“Fuck is the right word to say,” jokes your best friend, walking around and then stepping in the corridor of the room to see where it leads.

“I’m not having sex with you on this bed, Satoru,” you correct, looking at him entering somewhere and turning on the lights.

“Why not in the bathroom ? Check it out !” his face pops and then he disappears again in the so-called bathroom. You follow him and open wide your mouth when seeing again flowers scattered on the floor, with a whole jacuzzi next to the shower, and bottles of alcohol in a bucket beside it, with many candles ready to be lit.

“A jacuzzi ? Wine ?!” you almost scream of surprise.

“So, maybe we should fuck. I mean, the atmosphere is perfect,” he trails, lifting his blindfold to give you a seductive glance, even winking at you. And oh, the butterflies in your stomach start to move again, moving quite a lot actually. You roll your eyes, ignoring this growing feeling inside your gut, and he steps closer.

“What ? We already made out, this is the natural next step-,” he starts, before you slap the back of his head, “ouch ! I’m just joking with you ! Can’t even recognize the teasing of your own best friend !” he whines, pouting, and massaging his nape. Of course, it didn’t hurt, he just wanted to make you feel bad.

“I can’t know if you are really joking because you tend to sometimes be serious, like last time at the gathering,” you say as you step out of the bathroom, continuing to inspect the place. You wouldn’t be surprised if you saw sextoys somewhere in the drawers. At this rate, nothing could surprise you anymore.

“You accepted to make out with me,” he justifies, behind you.

“But at first you were joking about it, and it came true. So just in case, I’m not letting you joke about fucking. Annnd, I will not let you touch one drop of wine. You lightweight ass will not handle it,” you warn as you sit down on the bed, and notice how comfy it was just by taking a seat on it. At least, you will sleep well.

“Fine, fine, geez ! Then you don’t drink any drop of wine too,” he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why ? I hold well my liquor,” you defend yourself, frowning.

“And what if you end up drunk and jump on me trying to take off my clothes ? I’m innocent, you know ?” he scoffs, putting his hands in front of his torso as if he was shy, and you can’t help but laugh. His smile grows wider when he sees you enjoying his joke.

“Ah yes, very innocent… Alright, I won’t touch it too. But I will be bringing it home, it looks expensive and it would be a waste to not open the bottle,” you shrug, grinning slightly. Maybe you’ll share it with Shoko.

“You do as you please. Come on, let's check the forest before it’s too late, I’m starving and I don’t want to take too long,” he ends up saying as he grabs your hand to make you stand up, impatient, as he puts back his blindfold on.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

You roam through the big trees, in alert, trying to sense any type of curses that could be lurking around the forest. Each time you breathe, some fog is created because of the cold weather, in contrast with your warm mouth. Satoru was some meters behind, using his Six Eyes to spot any danger, and even levitating above the mountains to have a better vision of the environment. You reach the top of the hill, the wind caressing your skin. You stop walking, the sound of the snow cracking under your feet dying in the silence.

It was oddly calm, and as you raise your head to see where Gojo was, you end up impressed by the galaxy above your head embracing the sky. Your gaze lightens, staring at the infinity of the stars, murmuring a tiny ‘woaw’ to yourself. It truly was a sight to see, a beautiful piece of nature. You understood better why some people had their honeymoon taking place here.

“We can see the sky perfectly clear, here,” says Satoru, suddenly appearing next to you, hands in his pocket and his blindfold down his collar to allow his eyes to be out. You gaze at him, his hair slowly moving from the wind. He stares at the emptiness of the sky and the horizon, and you can’t help but feel some melancholia and loneliness emanating from him.

“You’re here… yeah, it’s amazing,” you answer softly, still bewitched by the stars.

“Did you sense anything ?” he asks, stepping now in front of you, the moon illuminating his white hair. It should be illegal how ethereal he is.

“Nope, only animals. And you ?” You shrug.

“It was faint, so hard to know exactly where,” he explains vaguely.

“Are the curses hiding from us ?” you joke, turning slightly to look behind, but there is nothing in the darkness of the night. Only the moon reflects on the snow, illuminating the area.

“They should be. I would be scared too, if I was them,” he teases arrogantly, and you turn back towards him wiggling your eyebrows.

“They should shake in front of us !” you exclaim, intimidating, and he explodes of laughter, you too. After some seconds, your laughs die down slowly, and you take a deep breath, smiling. It wasn’t going so bad for now, you thought. Satoru quietly stares at you, his eyes twinkling with something intimate and what seems like vulnerability.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it ?” he murmurs oh so gently, his gaze never leaving your face as if he simply couldn’t look away. You look into his irises, not answering for a second as you are caught back by his saying. You then lift your head, and look at the moon above the two of you. Your lips stretch in a soft smile, and your eyes fall back on Satoru.

“Very beautiful,” you insist in a sweet voice.

But then, a strong presence makes itself known, and two curses appear from the sky, rushing towards the two of you. You directly step back, in a fighting stance, your back pressed against the one of Satoru to have a peripheral view of the new opponents. You groan, ready to strike.

“Oh, we have some company. Interrupting our date like that, man… read the room, damn !” whines Satoru, a cocky smile stretching his lips, before easily avoiding an attack. You don’t wait any second longer and rush towards the curse in front of you and activate your cursed energy.

It dashes on the side but you follow suit. In the background, you hear Satoru fighting as well, and from what you can understand, he’s toying with his enemy, surely bored even though it was a grade 1 curse. You rolled your eyes, used of his antics during battles, and threw a cursed punch to the jaw of your own opponent. It screams and falls back on the ground, blood splashed everywhere on the once white snow -now an ugly green- as it struggles to stand back up. You decide to achieve it in one last blow, panting. Suddenly, it’s gone. You turn around, catching back your breath to see if Satoru was alright. But then you notice the curse attacking him from behind. As a reflex for his safety, you scream :

“Look out !” Satoru grins and before you can even blink, the curse just exploded from the technique of your best friend. You step back, the blow creating a strong wind than then dies down as quickly as it came.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he chuckles, saying it as if it was even stupid of you to dare worry for him in a battle. You don’t mention his arrogant tone, dusting your hands as he steps towards you.

“Well, that was way too quick…” you whisper. He stands in front of you, using his thumb to wipe some blood from your cheek. You look intently at him, the softness of his gesture in duality with the gruesome liquid he just took off.

“Don’t say that too fast,” he taunts, his smile growing wider.

“What do you mea-” you get interrupted by his arm swinging around you, and suddenly pressing your body against his. His hand is quickly on the back of your head to protect it. At the same moment, he raises his other fingers, and you can only sense the presence of a third curse jumping towards you from behind, soon getting annihilated by the red of Gojo.

Once it’s gone, you feel your heart beating fast in your throat, staying like that against the white haired male. You didn’t dare to move, still surprised from what happened, and surely because you didn’t want to step away from him.

“Thank you,” you end up whispering, before feeling his fingers caressing the sides of your face tenderly.

“Be more careful next time, y/n,” he says, more serious than usual. A facial expression that you weren’t used to see on him.

“You’re right,” you sigh, looking up at his eyes. His seriousness disappeared, now a fat grin is plastered on his handsome face.

“Our mission is done. Let’s go enjoy this arranged date, what do you think ?” he proposes, his thumb sliding down your neck, a lingering trail of fire on your skin, before he steps back.

“Dinner would be nice,” you accept, following him as he walks back down the hill.

“You read my mind. I could eat for ten !” he exclaims hungrily, and as if the world heard him, his stomach growls of hunger. You chuckle at the sound, thinking it was cute.

“The restaurant of the hotel looked good,” you shrug, and he swings his arm around your shoulder to bring you centimeters closer so he could share some warmth with you in this snowy forest.

“As long as I can eat, I’ll go anywhere,” he comments, winking at you.

“Then let’s go, I’m starving too” you finish.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Eating at the restaurant felt like a blessing to your starved bodies. Least to say, Satoru did eat for ten. Not to add the desserts he ordered. Long used to his appetite of an ogre, you didn’t comment and enjoyed watching him eat easily pounds of food. Obviously, Satoru being Satoru, he insisted on acting like boyfriend and girlfriend even though the two of you were far away from the elders. His reason why : who knows, maybe they are secretly watching ? Yeah, right. You didn’t buy any of that, and ended up having to spoon feed him his dessert, and let him spoon feed yours, or else he’ll throw a tantrum. A damn tantrum at his old age.

Exhausted, the two of you came back to the hotel room. Nothing changed since you left : the romantic atmosphere was still present. As you both wash your hands in the sink of the bathroom, you look at the jacuzzi. You already were picturing yourself relaxing in it, surrounded by hot water and warm bubbles. Some wine in your hand would be good too. No, wait. No wine. The both of you agreed on that earlier. Seeing you eying down the tube, Satoru leans on the sink once his hands are dried.

“Should we try the jacuzzi ?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at it, doing a motion with his chin to show the tube.

“We ?” you ask, drying your hands on a towel, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you and me. Who else ? Santa ?” he mocks, rolling his eyes. You huff at his teasing.

“I got it the first time. I mean, we’ll enjoy the jacuzzi, but not at the same time,” you explain yourself, more slowly, to emphasize what you mean as you look at Satoru to make sure it’s what you were thinking about. But the grin on his face says otherwise.

“No, at the same time,” he corrects.

“I don’t have a swimsuit,” you retort.

“Me neither,” he adds, shrugging, not caring about this issue.

“I will not go naked with you in the jacuzzi, Satoru,” you shake your head, warning him. Your best friend could be bold with his requests sometimes.

“Why not ?” he asks as if it was a genuine logical question.

“Seriously ? I don’t want to see your dick !” you exclaim, getting flustered. I mean, you did want to see his dick. But, not like that, in this situation. It would be too embarrassing. It was better if it only stayed as a fantasie of yours, anyway.

“Hey, you just hurt it’s ego !” He points, faking hurt as he puts his hand over his chest like he got damaged.

“Poor guy. Well, I’m not flashing you my coochie,” you laugh nervously when answering.

“I won’t mind-” you cut him off by giving him a warning glare. He flashes you a fake apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I mean, if you want I can put on my blindfold. I only can see cursed energy with it, no flesh or bones. Like that I would respect your privacy,” he suggests, stepping closer towards you, leaving the sink. You look at him approaching you.

“But on the contrary I would be seeing you naked,” you add, narrowing your eyes and staying straight on your feet when he looms over you. Why did he have to be so tall ? Damn.

“I don’t mind, you can look. I have nothing to hide from you.” He flashes you his playful smirk, showing his white teeth.

“You are shameless,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Ok, so what about our underwear ? No, wait, it’s gross, they are dirty… hum, then.. We are naked, buuuuut, we wrap a clean towel around our bodies, and go inside the jacuzzi with it. It will not be very comfortable, but better than nothing. What do you think ?” he ends up asking, tilting his head to the side. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking about it, hard. You would lie if you said that you didn’t want to try the jacuzzi with Satoru. And this idea of the towel wasn’t so bad. You take a deep breath before nodding slowly.

“That’s actually not a bad idea…”

“Perfect ! Then let’s go,” he muses happily, beaming at the idea as he suddenly throws over his shoulders his shirt, revealing his toned torso. Quickly, his hands are on his belt that he swiftly takes it off, and you turn away as you grab a random white towel and rush out of the bathroom.

“Wait, don’t change in front of me ! Geez !” you exclaim, flustered. This man had no shame ! You only hear his laugh, as he seemed proud of himself. You sigh and sit on the bed, taking off your clothes, thoughtful. You fold them, before wrapping the towel around your body. Ok, that shit was tiny… It barely reached under your ass, and you couldn’t move too much or else it would fall. Alright, you had to work with that.

You try to be brave, feeling oddly nervous at the idea of being like that with Satoru, before stepping towards the bathroom. The door was still open from earlier, and as you carefully look inside, you see him already inside the jacuzzi. He was sitting lazily, head tilted back, his Adam apple to your seeing. The bubbles reached his middle, and you saw the tiny towel around his waist, hiding any private areas. His arms were spread out on each side of the tube, and he slowly moved his gaze towards you when sensing your approach. Holy fuck, he looked temptingly hot. Way too hot. No, that was bad. This whole atmosphere was bad. Since you started this fake dating thing with him, your fantasies grew wilder, and it got harder each time to hide your feelings and desires for your best friend.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” he teases, smiling cheekily. And God, that infuriated you so much. You glare at him as you carefully enter the jacuzzi, being awfully aware that the towel was way too small for you.

“Shut up,” you say, scouting away from him once you are completely inside the water. You sigh of comfort and pleasure, enjoying the bubbles against your body. It felt relaxing, your muscles needed that.

“Why are you sitting so far away ?” asks your best friend, suspicious. You gaze at his half naked figure, his wet hair being slicked back, some drops falling down his face, neck, arms, chest. Ok, you should stop staring. And clearly, you felt like a dog. Why were you so tempted to just pounce on him ?!

“Because you stink,” you reply, trying to hide your smile as you turn your head away and cover your nose. That obviously was a lie, Satoru always smelled something sweet, just like he got out of a bakery or a candy store.

“Me ? Stinky ? I beg to differ ! Come here,” he scoffs, frowning, obviously offended, before suddenly grabbing you. He brings you towards him at light speed, making some of the water move around and splash. His arms wrap around your waist and squeeze you against his torso. You are now sitting in between his legs, your skin rubbing his. Holy shit, you swallow your saliva, looking up at him as you shift awkwardly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers, his blue eyes boring into yours, and you bat your lashes nervously. You wished you could act like everything was ok, back to normal, but it was almost impossible.

“Like what ?” you mutter back. Suddenly, your throat is dry. You were thirsty, and not only for water. Ok, the romantic atmosphere wasn’t helping at all, not to add the proximity. You move a bit, but Satoru doesn’t let you squirm away, resulting in your face getting closer to his.

“Like you want to kiss me,” he murmurs, and your stomach drops. You look away, at his shoulder instead.

“You’re just projecting,” you end up answering, like you were just joking around. But the wavering in your voice betrays you instantly. Satoru narrows his eyes, and his thumb starts to softly caress your thigh, right below the towel. Your heart starts to beat incredibly faster.

“So you say I’m the one that wants to kiss you ?” he muses, smug. His eyes search yours for any truth, but you continue to look away.

“Kinda,” you simply say, and try to gather your courage to look back at his face. It would be weird if you stared away for too long, right ? Wrong, the moment you turn around, your lips are only a few inches from his. Shit, shit, shit.

“Don’t tempt me,” he ends up saying, his breath caressing your lips. You look at his, pink and moisturized. Tempting, and you knew from the gathering that they tasted sweet.

“I didn’t,” you simply answer, and his thumb draws a circle on your thigh.

“You are.”

“You’re dumb,” you chuckle nervously, not knowing what to say. He smiles, like an idiot that just won the lottery.

“Love makes you dumb,” he says, kissing your cheek. You open your eyes wider, not sure if what you heard was correct. Did you ? Is he serious or just joking around like usual ? No, Satoru is your best friend. FRIEND. Get that in your head. You both loved to tease each other, so it was nothing new. Yeah, just the usual joking around, exactly. You take a deep breath and inhale a laugh, trying to not sound too nervous.

“You take your role of pretending to be my boyfriend very seriously,” you say, and his arm loosen a bit, allowing you to get more comfortable. You back away, leaving slightly his warmth, getting on the opposite side of the tub to face him. Even if the jacuzzi wasn’t very large, your legs tangling together, you at least could breathe better. Hoping to clear your clouded horny mind.

“I’m serious,” he says, looking straight into your eyes. You stare back, not answering, because at first you didn’t know how to react to his words. Some seconds pass, the tension still present as ever. You bite your lower lip, and then play with the hem of your towel, before sighing.

“Satoru…,” you start to say, in a soft voice.

“Hmmm ?”

“Do you think it would be that weird if we really started dating ?” you ask, looking into his eyes. He holds your gaze. Wait, why did you ask that ? You actually blurted this question out of your mouth without realizing. But you were dying to know his answer. It was vital.

“No,” he says, as simple as ever.

“Why ?”

“We’re basically acting like an old married couple all the time,” he explains, flashing you a teasing smile, chuckling. You chuckle back too, and then gently look away at the candles.

“True. But you don’t do commitment,” you say, more bitterly than you wanted. You hated yourself for saying the words Naoya said back at the gathering. It made you feel nauseous. Yet, you couldn’t help but know a part of what he said was true. Satoru didn’t give his heart like that. The risk of doing that was too high. Walls were all around him, making it almost impossible to reach his heart.

“I… do,” he answers awkwardly. Oh no, did you make him uncomfortable ? But it was too late now, you couldn’t stop from speaking your mind. It was weighing heavy on you, after all. Could he really blame you for that ? Maybe. Or maybe not. It was too complicated.

“I know, you don’t have time for real relationships,” you say vaguely.

“Y/n, being The Strongest means…” sighs Satoru, frustrated.

“A lot of responsibilities, and you aren’t allowed to be vulnerable. So committing to someone is a no for you,” you cut him in his sentence. There is a pause where he stares at you longly, silent, frowning.

“I guess…”

“But I’ll always be here for you, you know that, right ?” you whisper, looking back at him, feeling bad for this change of mood. His lips stretch in a small smile, and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I know.”

A second passes. You don’t talk, him either.

“Me too. I’ll always be here for you.” You smile at his words. You melted a little as well.

“I know,” you whisper. He looks at you like he wants to devour you.

Before you can understand what is happening, he suddenly looms over you, grabs your face, and kisses you. Tenderly. Oh, you think you just died and came back to life in a matter of a heart beat. Talking about heart, it’s hammering widely now. You shiver, as his hot and heavy breath is heard, mixed with the feeling of his hands cradling you with care and softness. You can’t resist, and answer the kiss. What was happening ? Why was he kissing you ? It wasn’t like at the gathering. No. It felt different. His lips move against yours, tilting his head to the side as he leans closer, impossibly closer.

“Don’t mind me,” he whispers in between a new kiss, his left hand sliding behind your head to hold you. “I’m just…” he continues, his lips more passionate, needier at each breath he takes, “... practicing,” he ends up saying, his knee sliding in between your thighs. Holy fuck, your towel suddenly feels suffocating, making you want to take it off. No, rip it off.

“Practicing for what ?” you ask in a short whisper as he cuts your breath by claiming your lips all over again. It was fierce, impatient. His right hand slides under your towel, reaching your thigh, inching towards your butt.

“If we need to put on a show in front of the elders, again,” he explains, before smashing his lips against yours, not allowing you to answer or utter a word aside from a moan. Your body feels like jelly, his knee dangerously close to your heat, his tongue caressing yours.

He sucks on your lip before devouring your mouth with so much want, like you were the last meal of this poor starved man. His fingers grips your hair, his other hand squeezing the fat of your inner thigh now. He opens more of your legs to slide them around his waist, as he stands up. You gasp, but he drinks it, his arm supporting you and grabbing your ass to keep you steady. Your body feels like it’s on fire, the water rushing down your two bodies as the kiss gets more intense.

Not only the water got you wet, and you moaned against his tongue. Your breast is about to spill out of the towel, pressed on his torso, your nipples getting hard. He feels it. It’s making him crazy.

Satoru steps out of the jacuzzi without any difficulty, carrying you in his arms, and puts you down on the sink to continue kissing you. Even if the air around felt colder as you left the warmth of the water, your bodies are simply heated to the bone. He grabs your waist, bringing you closer, and you swear you just felt something hard. You glance down, and open your eyes wider when you notice that under his towel, Satoru is hard. Hard like a rock.

Lord have mercy.

It grinds against your clothed cunt, and you can’t help but moan. It twitches, and his hands dig dipper in your fat. His tongue caresses you sensually, and you hear him groan. He then suddenly parted his lips away from yours, breathing heavy, panting like a dog, forehead falling on your shoulder.

“Y/n, push me away,” he suddenly says, catching back his breath.

“What ?” you ask, confused, still shaken from what happened.

“Or slap me, if you prefer,” he adds, his wet hair sticking to your skin as his hands roam up your back. You shudder, his touch feeling electric.

“Slap you ? Satoru you’re talking nonsen-” you start to answer.

“Please,” he cuts you, tilting his face to the side so you could look into his eyes. You gulp.

“Why ?” you whisper.

“Because I need to get away from you before we cross a line, and I don’t have the will to stop. So please, make me stop,” he begs. Satoru is begging you, looking weak, about to snap, about to crumble completely.

“And what if I don’t want to stop ?” you dare answer.

“Y/n, please,” he insists. You stare into his eyes, and see all the self restraint in his gaze. You take a deep breath. You wanted more, but Satoru was right, it would be crossing a line. A line that maybe you weren’t ready to cross yet. Not now. So, reluctant, you push him away. Satoru steps back, putting his hand in his wet hair. You fluster, crossing your legs. He grabs a dry towel, and throws it at you. You catch it as he takes one too, wrapping it around his waist to take off the wet one and put it to dry as well.

“Let’s dry ourselves and go to sleep, yeah ? I’ll bring your pajamas so you can change in the bathroom,” he announces without waiting for an answer. You stay like that, unmoving, not knowing how to react, and he is already back, giving them to you. You barely notice him kissing your forehead, like an apology, before he turns around and closes the door to leave you the intimacy you needed to get changed.

… Ok. What just happened ?!

Like a robot, you take off the wet towel and dry yourself with the other one. You don’t know how long you took, but once you are finished, you are stepping in the bedroom. You see him already under the covers, the flowers that formed the heart on the sheets are now down on the floor. His arms are crossed behind his head, and he glances at you when you arrive. Only the light of the moon outside was illuminating his face. You felt shy after what happened. There wasn’t the excuse of alcohol or annoying the elders to explain this steamy hot kisses session. The two of you knew that “practice” was a terrible lie. You sigh as you slide under the covers, and turn your back to Satoru as you try to calm down.

“Good night,” you end up saying.

“Good night, y/n,” he says, and God, it was awkward. You felt him shift slightly, his body brushing against yours. Some minutes passed in silence, only the sounds of your breathings in the quietness of the night.

“Do you hate me now ?” he suddenly asks out of nowhere, and you turn around, looking at him surprised.

“What ? Why would I ?”

“For kissing you like that,” he explains, and you look away, recalling his lips on yours. You fluster and sigh before answering “no, Satoru. I don’t.” He smiles and then scoots even closer before wrapping his arm around your body, snuggling your back against his chest.

“I thought you were mad,” he whispers in the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent.

“I’m not, I promise,” you say gently.

“So… if I did it again, you wouldn't be mad, right ?” he teases.

“Don’t push your luck,” you chuckle softly.

“At least I asked,” he hums.

“Sleep, Satoru,” you order him. God, it felt good to talk back normally with him. The tension slowly died down. Because if it stayed like that, you wouldn’t have been able to sleep.

“Yes ma’am,” he ends up answering before kissing your cheek in a giggle.

It took you longer to fall asleep than usual, but at least, you managed to.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

The next day, the two of you didn’t talk about what happened, not even once. The rest of the day was full of the two of you being busy strolling around the city and the mountains, before having to go back to Tokyo. Later in the afternoon, after eating at a small local restaurant, you went to take your bullet train. Again, you had three hours to kill. Satoru decided to pester you, which ended in you wanting to kill him, but that only amused him more. He eventually calmed down when you both shared your earphones to listen to music, slowly falling back asleep against his shoulder.

It’s in a sigh that you stretch, done with the report you just had to do to the elders about the mission. Satoru grins, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Their faces were hilarious ! They were so mad that their little plan didn’t work !” exclaims Satoru, laughing, proud of this outcome. The plan did kind of work, actually. But not like the elders expected. You decide to not mention it.

“If they want new sorcerers so bad, why don’t they try to have kids themselves ?!” you sigh, walking next to him in the corridor, and Satoru glances at you.

“I think their sperm is like ashes, so probably it won’t work even if they tried,” he jokes, even though what he said had a big part of truth. You choke on your saliva, your face distorting with disgust.

“Ewwww, I just imagined it !” you cry out, Satoru explodes with laughter, and you soon do too. When he was laughing, it was impossible to not follow. It was way too contagious.

“Ahhhh… Sometimes I just wish I could annihilate all the elders without the consequences,” he suddenly says, looking at the sky.

“What ?” you ask surprised, not sure of what you heard.

“What ?” he repeats innocently, as if he didn’t say anything. You chuckle, shaking your head.

Everything was just fun and giggles (and hot make out sessions) for now. But going against the wish of the elders meant business. They didn’t care about your happiness as a couple with Gojo, -even if it was fake-, nor even cared about him as a person in the slightest. All they wanted was for him to work himself to the bone as The Strongest, and carry his duty as the head of the Gojo Clan, meaning marriage and heirs. If you weren’t able to give him that, then they would soon need to… get rid of you. And find a better suitor for their goals.

Fake dating Satoru brought you more problems than you originally thought.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Part 3 coming soon !

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #x reader #gojo fluff #jjk #gojo smut #gojo angst

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cybergoth1 · 3 days ago

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the evil eye | dick grayson x fem!yandere reader

synopsis: ❛❛detective (and vigilant by night) dick grayson turns to you as a last resort to solve a case involving a new serial killer terrorizing blüdhaven. after years paying for your crimes in the depths of arkham asylum, the last thing you expected was the police showing up at your door, desperate for your help. even more surprising is the overwhelming, unsettling and obsessive pull you start to feel toward him as you two work side by side❞.

warnings/tags: 18+, major dark themes, fem!reader, yandere tendencies, yandere!reader, reader's a ex criminal, ex serial killer, reader is the hannibal to dick's will graham. detective dick grayson is a warning. sexual content. mentions of killing, mentions of psychopathy and narcissism. mentions of time in arkham. gaslighting. reader literally killed people, be aware. inspired by hannibal and silence of the lambs. obsessive behavior. stalker!reader. batfamily hates you.

— ❛❛THE EVIL EYE'S CONTENT:

PROLOGUE: but you belong to me.

CHAPTER 01: you set my soul alight.

CHAPTER 02: she ate my heart and then she eat my brain.

UNLIKE MOST OF your fellow prisoners, you’d never actually been involved in a mass breakout. You’d usually overhear their elaborate escape plans over the awful prison food, nodding with a bored expression. Then, you’d simply be escorted back to your cell, spending the rest of your free time before lights out reading a dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice. You vaguely remembered when Harley Quinn’s voice suddenly grew unbearably loud, and the tempers of the other prisoners began flaring far beyond their usual levels. The unbearable noise seemed to slither through your brain like a slippery snake, making you roll your eyes. You saw them as little monkeys — unpolished and uneducated — acting impulsively with the few brain cells they had left in their heads. Good thing they don’t like you either. Most of them just saw you as a snobby bitch, looking down on them as if you weren’t just another miserable soul trapped in the abuses and horrors of Arkham Asylum.

“Hey, is it true that you killed a guy just because he stepped on your foot on the subway?” you heard Harley’s annoying voice again, this time interrupting your beloved sunbath. You sighed loudly and made the foolish decision to glance at her curious figure.

"That's fucking stupid" you said, closing your eyes again to feel the sun on your cold skin.

"Yes! That's what I told Ivy," she said cheerfully, her high pitched voice growing louder as she come closer to your body. You felt a persistent, almost irrational urge to strike her "you never killed for shallow reasons!" this makes you open your eyes and examine her closely. How could she possibly understand your motivations? Sometimes it was hard for you to wrapped your head around it. Harley felt your questioning gaze and shrugged.

"Oh, come on, I'm a psychiatrist. I have a Phd, for godsake".

"Yeah, I know".

"You always choose victims who offend your morals and your personal sense of justice. We should totally be friends".

You sigh loudly again. You wouldn’t call them victims — but none of it mattered anymore. Harley keeps rambling about your personality traits and psychological evaluations, like a true psychiatrist would, while you let your mind wander, staring at the other prisoners. They all look as beaten down as you did. You could still feel your busted lips aching after a guard punched you in the face for not taking your meds — you run your tongue over the wound, savoring the metallic taste.

"Hey, Quinn?"

"Hm?"

“When we’re out of here, look me up. We could go out for a drink.”

Twelve years, eight months, and twenty days. That's the total time you spent locked up, basically rooting, in Arkham Asylum since your pre-trial detention, watching the sun rise through a small square window while trying not to kill your annoying cellmates by suffocating them with pillows and dirty sheets. The guards were well aware of your tendencies and unpredictable behavior, making sure to threaten you at every possible moment.

"I killed people for less, you know that, right?" that was always enough to earn you a new torture session at the hands of the guards, you usually just call them dogs, and sometimes even the nurses when they were having a bad day. But, in the end, you always considered yourself strong, capable, and with an impenetrable mind. And you were, in fact, all of that and more — so much more that you endured the horrors of that place for over a decade as if it were a walk in the park. A long, agonizing, shitty walk in the park. And now you’re walking as a free woman after twelve years, feeling the wind on your face while clenching the cheap cigarette between your teeth. Almost free, at least. You're serving the rest of your sentence in a parole due to your impressive good behaviour.

Under certain negotiation and strict conditions, you were released two weeks ago, seizing the opportunity to finally disappear into anonymity in another city — unfortunately still close to Arkham. You had to settle for Blüdhaven during the legal arrangement, since you couldn’t leave New Jersey during your parole and you’d rather eat your own feet than spending another day in Gotham. You got yourself a small apartment in a horrible neighborhood, cheap enough to cover the rent with your new part-time job as a cashier. No one there cared enough to check your criminal record or ask why you always had to be home early, or why you occasionally had to report to the police station just to confirm you hadn’t left the state. That's the life.

“To new beginnings,” you said quietly, raising your glass to the empty living room before immediately downing the whiskey. It taste like dog piss — better than anything you had in prision.

The first four months of your newfound freedom were tainted by the bitter taste of mediocrity and a gnawing sense of inferiority every time your eyes fell on the crumbling walls of your apartment or the stack of papers from your public defender, detailing the suffocating limitations of your parole. The justice system had reduced you to a chained dog —muzzled, restrained, and stripped of dignity.

But you were destined for greatness — you felt it every time you looked in the mirror, every time you saw your own perfection. You were intelligent, strategic, and able to perceive what others could not. Those fortunate enough to be part of your life should be grateful for your words, your brilliant ideas, and the sheer privilege of your presence.

Thanks to your sharp intellect and keen observation, it didn’t take long for you to identify the patterns in your part-time job. Your boss, the supermarket manager, was a disgusting man who took pleasure in belittling his employees, particularly the young women. He exploited his position to satisfy his vile desires, acting as a reprehensible predator. Throughout your shift, you spent much of your time thinking of ways to rid the world of his vile presence. You believed you would be doing everyone a favor, even if they couldn’t understand it — few had the courage or capacity to do what was necessary for the greater good. That's why you existed. You were the necessary evil.

But since you needed the money, you chose a more effective approach than simply eliminating him. You manipulated him, exploiting his own immorality to gain what you desired — more perks and less work. You allowed him to believe that one day, if he keeps helping you out, you would let him take you to a cheap motel, or his car, and fuck you like a brainless fleshlight, just the way he wanted.

You kept him on edge, making him believe he was in control while portraying yourself as a vulnerable girl who needed an older man to take care of her — both emotionally and physically. You told countless lies, fabricating an abusive ex and a negligent father, allowing him to revel in his foolish fantasy of being needed by you — while he was nothing but a fun game to play. Now that you had your boss on a leash, desperate for you, he stopped bothering the other girls, too busy looking at your ass and tits every time you passed in front of him. You made a point to wear tighter pants and unbutton a few extra buttons on your uniform.

That's the necessary evil you belived so much.

Unfortunately, your peace of mind was short-lived. Just as you were beginning to earn enough money to continue your life in a less humiliating way, a knock at your door ushered in a reality you would have preferred to avoid. You rose from the couch, the cigarette still lit and clamped between your lips.

“I didn’t order anything,” you said, looking at the five cops crowded at your door. Two of them weren’t in uniform, only the large, shiny badges identifying them as part of the Blüdhaven Police Department. The only woman in the group looked at you with a blank expression, calling you by your last name before taking a step closer.

"I'm detective Montoya, this is my partner detective Grayson" she said pointing to the tall figure on her left side. When you finally looked at her partner, you felt the cigarette between your lips become flat under your force as you clenched your teeth tighter, struggling to suppress a sicking smile. Those were the bluest eyes you had ever seen, watching you warily, his black hair falling gracefully over his forehead. He stood behind Montoya, carefully analyzing your posture and movements. Smart, but you were smarter.

Montoya mentioned something about the police and FBI wanting to talk to you. You were too consumed by the overwhelming, nauseating feeling rising within you as you stared at the stunning man in front of you — it’s happening again. You fought to suppress a wild smirk, your pupils dilating as shivers ran up your spine. He looked back at you with those beautiful eyes, like a piece of the sky or even the ocean.

You already knew what to do.

“I guess one talk won’t hurt,” you said, then opened the door for them.

get in the mood: I. monster, II. bad romance, III. judas, IV. toxic, V. supermassive black hole, VI. teeth, VII. criminal, VIII. radar, IX. gimme more.

author's note: well, reader is fucking insane, but she's slaying ok. please let me know if you want to join the taglist.

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