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fushitoru · 5 months ago

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chapter 3: the manor a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)

prev. the aftermath | next. the game

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n krnfeknfkejrn i was so tired writing this chapter but used it to procrastinate on the reports and papers i have to write for internship/reports (wtf is quantum physics anyways). ty as always to @/sinn-clair for being the best beta reader <33333

Dear readers,

Apparently, last week, there was an altercation in Lady Itadori’s drawing room involving Lord Gojo, Miss Itadori, and a dog. The dog was the victor.

Furthermore, If one is to trust the betting books, then Lord Gojo shall be witness to wedding bells before the year is through.

As much as it pains This Author to agree with the betting books (they are written by men, and thus inherently flawed), This Author must concur in the prediction.

Duchess Gojo will soon have her daughter-in-law. But who she will be⸺ah, Gentle Reader, that is still anyone’s guess.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman⸺a work I have long heard whispers about but never fully encountered until now. Her words, as bold as they are revolutionary, have struck a chord deep within me. She speaks of the education and independence of women, of our capacity for reason and our right to be regarded as more than mere adornments to the lives of men. Her arguments are so meticulously crafted, so unwavering in their conviction, that they have compelled me to reflect on my own circumstances.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

I cannot help but wonder if there will ever come a time when these two worlds might reconcile⸺the status quo and that of what the book articulates. When women might be both respected and fre

Before you could finish writing in your diary, you suddenly heard frantic footsteps down the hallway, leading closer and closer to your door. Nobara bursts into the room, and you look up at her in confusion and, partially, dread. Nobara wouldn’t be bursting into your room unless there was someone who absolutely couldn’t see what you were doing in your past time.

Before she could catch her breath, she wheezed out, “Your mother.”

You quickly hopped into action with practiced and routine movements. Lunging for the floorboard that had hollow space beneath it, you moved it so you could place the book and your diary underneath and quickly hide evidence of you reading scandalous and radical works.

Just in time, it seemed, as your mother walked into your room to see you on your bed.

She squinted her eyes in suspicion. “What were you doing?”

You averted her gaze. “Nothing, just daydreaming, Mama.”

Usually, she would prod further into the matter, but it seemed as if she was too excited for that. Clapping her hands, she exclaimed, “I have just got an exclusive invitation for you! One that could secure you a very good match.”

You gave her a quizzical look as she walked closer, sitting at the foot of your bed with an expression of barely contained glee. “We shall be visiting the Gojo estate in Kent!”

At the mention of his name, your left eye twitched, though your mother remained oblivious. “Indeed, Mama? As is every other lady in London, I presume.”

“No, no,” she replied, waving your quip away with a dismissive hand. “We are to arrive at the Gojo estate before the house party.”

Your heart sank, dread pooling in your stomach. Oh, no, no, no, no. A sudden pressure gripped your chest, and you found yourself clutching at the bodice of your dress as if to steady your racing heart. “Before the house party, Mama?” Your voice, despite your best efforts, came out higher-pitched than usual, though you tried to maintain a semblance of composure. “Whatever for?”

“To secure an advantage, of course!” she replied with a bright smile, as though the matter were the simplest thing in the world. “The Gojo family has extended a personal invitation for us to stay with them for a few days prior to the event. It is plain to see⸺he is quite taken with you. Even that dreadful Lady Whistledown has noted as much.” She smiled indulgently, reaching out to gently smooth a stray lock of your hair. “It is your natural grace and charm, my dear, that has made you the season’s diamond.”

As your mother continued to speak, the twisting in your stomach began to intensify, morphing from nausea into something sharper, something more akin to anger. You kept nodding, trying to maintain a slightly pained smile, but the thought of spending time at the Gojo manor, in such close quarters with him, became increasingly unbearable. The memories of your recent encounters⸺his biting remarks, his mocking gaze⸺were still fresh in your mind, and the idea that you were being pushed toward an engagement with him made your skin crawl. But you knew better than to express your true feelings to your mother.

“That is… unexpected,” you managed to say, choosing your words carefully. “Are you certain this is a good idea, Mama? Perhaps we might appear too eager and ward off other potential suitors, lest they mistake me as claimed by Gojo?”

“Nonsense!” she replied with a dismissive laugh. “If all goes well, you’ll be announcing your engagement at the house party itself!”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hardly breathe as the full weight of what she was saying sank in. An engagement. To Gojo.

You almost felt faint, but as the initial shock wore off, it was replaced by a simmering anger. How dare he? How dare Gojo make a game of this, toying with you as if your future was nothing more than a sport to him? And how could your mother not see that she was playing right into his hands?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the anger was bubbling up, threatening to spill over. “But, Mama, what if he does not wish to marry? What if he simply enjoys… toying with people?”

Your mother’s expression softened as she reached out to pat your hand, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. “My dear, you are overthinking this. Men like Lord Gojo may seem playful and insouciant, but they are ultimately driven by duty. A man in his position knows the importance of finding a suitable wife, and you⸺my darling⸺are just the woman for the role. You are intelligent, accomplished, and beautiful. He would be a fool not to see that.”

Each word only fueled the fire of your anger. Duty? Suitable wife? You bit your lip, feeling the weight of her expectations press down on you like a suffocating blanket. But beneath that weight was a growing resolve, a refusal to be treated like a pawn in some grand game of power and prestige. Gojo might enjoy playing with others' lives, but you would not be his plaything.

You gave her a pained smile. “If you say so, Mama…” you replied, the anger now evident in the tightness of your voice.

“Of course, I do!” she declared, rising from the bed with a self-satisfied smile. “Now, we must begin preparations immediately. There is much to be done before we depart.”

As your mother closed the door, you stormed over to the floorboard, whipped open your diary and prepped your quill to furiously write:

Lord Gojo is a most intolerable wretch. Though his outward appearance might deceive many, there is an endless well of impurities within his character.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

Were Sukuna here, I daresay he would assist me in disposing of the body with great enthusiasm.

While the Gojo dinner table was stocked with the finest of meals⸺that deserving of a wealthy dukedom, of course⸺Satoru found himself eyeing one dish of all⸺the scones.

Observing his mother and father, who were engrossed in deep conversation, he realized he could make the move. As discreetly as he could, he stocked his plate with many of the treats. The cook, bless his soul, knew how to make scones exactly right: soft, yet hard around the edges that have Satoru drooling when he takes a bite in to get a burst of flavor. He discreetly tucked a few sweets into his pocket for tonight’s work session on some Gojo business, thinking himself subtle.

Satoru could continue writing endless love poems in his head towards his chef’s scones, But Lady Gojo, ever watchful, noticed his little scheme. She arched an eyebrow, her tone teasing as she remarked, "Satoru, darling, it astonishes me that you remain so fit with such a fondness for sweets."

Without missing a beat, Gojo flashed his usual charming smile and responded, “Perhaps it is because I am kept on my toes constantly by you, Mother.” His parents shared a laugh at this, clearly amused by his playful banter.

The Gojo dining fell into a comfortable lull once again, sounds of forks and knives scratching against porcelain plates. The silence was better, Satoru believed. Because he knew he was not going to be pleased at what his father had to say to him next, judged based on the thoughtful look he adopted while staring at Gojo.

��And how fares the season, Satoru? Have you made any progress?”

Satoru wanted to groan so bad, but instead, he straightened in his seat, the smile on his face now simply a facade. “I am confident all will proceed as expected, Father,” he replied, though his tone lacked its usual certainty.

Duke Gojo narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing something amiss. “Are you sure about that?” he probed. “You know very well, Satoru, that your inheritance of the title is contingent upon securing a wife and producing an heir. This is not a matter to be taken lightly.”

The weight of his father’s words hung in the air, pressing down on Gojo with the full force of expectation. Would it be eccentric if I decided to scream to the heavens right now?

Before Gojo could even formulate a response, his mother, ever the one to steer the conversation, interjected with a delighted exclamation. “Oh, it’s all handled, my dear! Did you not hear? The diamond of the season is arriving a week early to our manor in the countryside!”

All thoughts of screaming himself mute vanished as his mother’s words piqued his interest. Now, this was interesting. You? Spending time with him, under his roof, with no escape? The idea alone was enough to spark a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Satoru almost started cackling maniacally at the thought of pestering you until you broke that oh-so-perfect and uptight demeanor of yours, until you were reduced to exactly what you were: an unruly and highly emotional know-it-all.

One could say Satoru was very bitter about the losses he had bore for that horse race.

As a self-assured smirk started to creep up Satoru’s face, Duke Gojo blinked, surprised by the news. “A week early? That’s quite unusual,” he remarked, turning his gaze back to his son.

Satoru offered a sweet smile. “Yes, unusual indeed.” He knew his parents were well aware of the marital implications of such an arrangement, and he could feel their eyes on him, gauging his reaction.

But Duchess Gojo, satisfied with her announcement, continued with a gleeful smile. “I daresay, it’s all coming together perfectly. Even matchmakers could not have planned it better.”

Indeed, Mother! The prospect grew more delightful with each passing second, and the corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin. You were in for quite the week, and he would relish every moment of ruining your composure.

Yuji leaned in closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Sister, did you perhaps neglect the chamber pot today?” he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “Your expression is quite telling.”

The carriage, though spacious, felt suffocating with the tension hanging in the air. Your mother sat by the window, her eyes sparkling with what could only be described as gleeful scheming regarding your imminent week at the Gojo manor. You, on the other hand, simmered with barely contained fury, with a pinch of nausea, your thoughts consumed with how you would confront Gojo at the ball you were all headed to. Yuji’s scrutiny only added to your irritation, his amused yet concerned face a stark contrast to your stormy mood. Across from you, Choso couldn’t suppress a snicker at Yuji’s comment, clearly enjoying the exchange.

You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “Yuji, if you do not cease your incessant prying, I shall see to it that you regret ever opening your mouth!”

Yuji flinched, visibly startled by your outburst. His confidence wavered as he stammered, “I⸺I meant no harm, sister.” He quickly extended his elbow to you, his movements almost robotic in their sudden politeness. “Please, allow me to escort you inside.”

You ignored the offer, your focus already elsewhere. The moment the carriage came to a stop, you heaved yourself off, stepping into the entrance. Grand revelry was before you; many suitors and young ladies were present, necks glittering with diamonds and hands adorned with gloves. Roving your gaze around, you saw him.

The world around you seemed to blur as your gaze locked onto Gojo, everything else fading into the background. A sleazy and handsome grin on his face, definitely talking about some useless nonsense.

Like a bull seeing red, you marched forward with determined fury, your sights set solely on him. He stood there, the picture of nonchalance, completely unaware of the storm heading his way. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your anger propelling you forward with each step. Yuji and Choso exchanged confused glances as they lingered by the entrance, unsure of what had just transpired.

As you closed the distance, Gojo finally noticed you, his usual smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. But there was no time for his usual banter; you were ready to confront him head-on, no matter the consequences.

“What have you done?” you roared, striding towards Gojo. His head turned slowly, an amused and condescending smile creeping across his face. “I know this is⸺”

“Miss Itadori,” a voice hissed, dripping with offense. You turned to see Miss Yuki glaring at you. “Lord Gojo and I were in the midst of a very private conversation.”

You blinked, realizing that in your anger, you had entirely overlooked Miss Yuki’s presence. Though inwardly rolling your eyes, you knew it was best to maintain decorum. You curtsied in apology. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Yuki. I shall leave you both to continue your conversation.”

As you stepped back, giving them respectable space, Miss Yuki side-eyed you with a sharp “hmph!” before turning back to Gojo with a flirtatious smile.

“So, my lord,” Yuki began, her tone coy, “what type of woman would be to your liking?”

Gojo scratched his chin, feigning deep thought as he prepared his response. “Well, Miss Yuki, I would imagine she must be intelligent, accomplished, and⸺” He paused dramatically, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with a slow, deliberate drawl, “⸺and beautiful.”

You suppressed a sigh. Does he never tire of that tiresome gesture? It’s grown exceedingly dull.

Yuki’s pleased grin widened. “And what level of intellect do you find satisfactory, my lord?”

“Well,” Gojo mused, “I would prefer a lady well-versed in calculations. I often find myself making errors in my ledgers late at night, and a wife who could assist would be most valuable. Moreover, I would enjoy engaging in debates on scientific matters.”

Is he seeking a wife or an accountant?

The unusual nature of his request clearly left Yuki taken aback. She blinked, her smile tightening. “Indeed, Lord Gojo, these are rather...uncommon expectations for a wife.” Yuki then hesitated, glancing around as though searching for an escape. “Well, my lord, as intriguing as this conversation has been, I fear I must take my leave. My mother has been awaiting my return, and I would not wish to keep her waiting.”

She curtsied with a strained smile, clearly eager to extricate herself from the awkward situation Gojo’s peculiar standards had created. Without waiting for a reply, she swiftly turned and made her exit, leaving you alone to confront Gojo, who now had an amused look on his face, as if he had purposefully answered that way to ward Miss Yuki off.

You pointed your finger at him, wagging it accusingly as you hissed, “Gojo, I know this was one of your ploys.”

He let out an exaggerated groan, and he dropped all flirtatious pretenses he had adopted when conversing with the other lady. “Ah, yes. Please, by all means, heap more blame upon me for things entirely beyond my control. I derive immense pleasure from being the target of your needless and misdirected fury.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

With a strained smile, he sighed. “It seems our mothers have taken it upon themselves to orchestrate this entire charade.”

Your hands flew up in exasperation. “I cannot believe this! I would sooner perish than marry you, and heaven help me if I were ever to bear your children!”

“Spare me the theatrics,” Gojo replied, shaking his head as if amused by your outburst. He inclined his head slightly, gesturing toward something in the distance. “We are being observed.”

You followed his gaze and saw, across the dance floor, both of your mothers trying—albeit poorly—to appear inconspicuous as they exchanged furtive glances and whispered behind their fans.

You huffed in frustration, turning back to Gojo. “This is absurd.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. “But would it be so terrible to bear my children?” he murmured, his tone teasing yet somehow serious.

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you refused to let it show. You straightened your posture, meeting his gaze with as much poise as you could muster. “I can’t think of far worse fates, my lord,” you replied, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words.

Gojo’s smile widened, clearly undeterred. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine.. You felt a slight tremor of awareness course through you, and despite your best efforts, a hint of warmth crept into your cheeks.

He leaned in even closer, his voice a low murmur. “You seem flustered, Miss Itadori,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “I must admit, the idea of a future with you is… intriguing.”

Flustered and at a loss of witty remarks, you stammered, struggling to find your voice. “I⸺I hardly think that⸺”

Gojo’s smile widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His eyes had this sultry expression to them, one that you didn’t need to ponder more than one second to know had no good intentions.

With that, he released your hand, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding and your cheeks aflame.

Gojo ⸺ 1, You ⸺ 1.

Choso crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Mother, why are we departing a week earlier than the rest of the ton?”

The carriage rocked gently, the luggage rattling with the motion. You slumped in your seat, weary from the long hours of travel, your thoughts drifting to the comfort of a soft, fluffy bed. Your mother, noticing the beads of sweat forming on your brow, handed you a handkerchief before turning to respond to Choso. “Well, my dear, your sister has caught the eye of Lord Gojo, and his mother has personally invited us to arrive early so that we may become better acquainted.”

Your eldest brother frowned, while Yuji stared vacantly out the carriage window, enraptured by the sheep present on the farm you were passing. “But why should we do so?” Choso pressed, his tone firm. “It is not as though Sister is lacking in suitors. Why should we entertain Lord Gojo’s interest above all others?”

Even in your heat-induced lightheadedness, your attention was drawn to Choso’s defense of you. A flicker of hope ignited in your chest; as the viscount, Choso held considerable authority over your mother, and he could potentially influence the matrimonial decisions made on your behalf.

“Lord Gojo is the most eligible bachelor of the season,” your mother insisted. “We would be foolish not to seize such an opportunity.”

Choso retorted quickly, “And Sister is the most eligible lady of the season. She is the diamond. If Lord Gojo’s eligibility rests on his title, would we not do better to pursue a match with Duke Nanami?”

You silently cheered Choso on, hoping he might sway your mother’s mind away from the ridiculous notion of a match between you and Gojo.

But your mother was not easily deterred. “I am quite set on Lord Gojo, Choso,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Your sister seems to have formed a rapport with him, and this is about more than just titles. We must also consider her inclinations.”

Both your mother and Choso turned their expectant gazes upon you, awaiting your response. Flustered and unwilling to directly oppose your mother, you swallowed nervously and nodded. “Whatever you think best, Mother.”

The remainder of the ride was marked by the satisfied smile on Lady Itadori’s face and the glowers⸺yet paired with concerned glances⸺from Choso.

The slowing of the carriage and its turn onto a smooth pathway roused you from the gentle lull of travel. You blinked your eyes open and glanced outside. A magnificent flower bed greeted you, a sea of blues ranging from the palest sky hues to deep indigo. But what truly stole your breath was the manor itself⸺more a castle than a mere country home. Its grandiose structure rivaled Buckingham Palace in regality, with elegant blue spires and stately beige stone walls that seemed to stretch towards the heavens.

The carriage came to a complete halt at the base of a grand staircase, where Duchess Gojo stood waiting, surrounded by footmen and maids all dressed in coordinated baby blue livery. As the carriage door was opened, you, your mother, Choso, and Yuji stepped out into the warm afternoon air.

“Lady Itadori!” Duchess Gojo descended the stairs gracefully, her arms extended in greeting. Your mother met her with an equally warm embrace.

“Your Grace,” your mother replied fondly, her face lighting up with familiarity. The duchess then turned her gaze towards you, her smile gracious and welcoming.

“And this must be our diamond,” Duchess Gojo said warmly, her eyes twinkling.

You offered her a polite smile and curtsied. “Miss Itadori, Your Grace. I am deeply honored by your hospitality.”

She waved off your formality with a flick of her hand. “The pleasure is entirely ours, my dear. We are delighted to have you with us, and I do hope that you and my son will find ample time to get better acquainted before the house party.”

You returned her smile, though unease stirred within you. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Choso and Yuji introduced themselves with the same practiced politeness, and after the formalities were concluded, the duchess clapped her hands together. “Come now, let us take tea. You must be quite fatigued from your journey. I shall have the staff see to your rooms so you may rest after.” She directed the servants to unload the luggage from the carriages and then motioned for you all to follow her into the manor. “To the drawing room!”

As you crossed the threshold into the manor, you were struck by the sheer opulence surrounding you. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate gold and blue detailing, and the walls were lined with endless portraits of the Gojo family. Your gaze was momentarily drawn to a portrait of Lord Gojo himself. The artist had rendered his eyes in a cold, oceanic blue—quite unlike the electric blue intensity they held in person. The painting failed to capture the vitality, and perhaps the insufferable smugness, that characterized his gaze.

You quickly looked away before anyone could notice your lingering stare, hurrying to catch up with your family as you reached a grand set of double doors. Footmen stood at attention as Duchess Gojo led you into a drawing room, elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and laden with trays of sweets.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the duchess urged, gesturing towards the seating. She and your mother settled at a small table near the door, while you and your siblings gravitated toward the couches in the center of the room, where a tempting array of desserts awaited. As you sat down, maids swiftly arranged teacups and began pouring the tea. Yuji and Choso took seats across from you, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of interest—or lack thereof—in the proceedings.

“So, Miss Itadori,” You looked across the room to look at the duchess, who was leaning further to grab at her teacup and take a sip. “How do you find this season?”

“I find the suitors of this season very pleasing and kind, Your Grace,” you sat up fully, placing the scone you were eating down to fully face the duchess. “It has been a very extravagant season; I hope to continue my search to find a suitable match for myself.” Duchess Gojo nodded. “An admirable pursuit, of course. Is a love match what you are searching for?”

Her question hung in the air, and in that instant, you felt the weight of every gaze in the room fall upon you. The most searing of them all, though, was your mother's. You could feel it like a prickling heat against your skin, a silent reminder of the expectations that had been laid out before you long ago.

A love match. The words echoed in your mind, each syllable twisting into a knot of uncertainty. The very idea of love seemed foreign to you—elusive, abstract, something that belonged in novels rather than in the practical world of arranged marriages and alliances. Love was not what you had been taught to seek. No, your upbringing had been grounded in duty, decorum, and the quiet understanding that marriage was a contract, a union of convenience rather than passion.

But how could you say that aloud? How could you tell the duchess—tell anyone—that your dreams did not include the fiery passion of a love match, but rather the comfort of a peaceful arrangement? Your throat tightened, and the words that had once seemed so simple lodged themselves in the back of your mouth, refusing to emerge.

Your mother’s eyes bore into you, filled with unspoken expectations. You knew what she wanted to hear: that you were pursuing love, that you were open to it, that you were the ideal picture of a hopeful young lady seeking her romantic equal. But that wasn’t your truth. Your truth was more complicated, filled with desires for stability, understanding, and a life unburdened by the chaos that love so often seemed to bring.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the beat almost deafening in the sudden silence of the room. What were you supposed to say? How could you balance the delicate line between honesty and propriety?

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat making it nearly impossible to find your voice. The tension swirled within you, an unrelenting force that made you wish you could simply disappear. What if they could see through you? What if, with one wrong word, they uncovered the truth of what you really wanted—a marriage that was practical, peaceful, and devoid of the complications that came with love?

But that wasn’t something you could admit. Not here. Not now.

You forced a polite smile, hoping it hid the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before the weight of the room could settle further, the heavy double doors swung open with a soft yet deliberate creak. Every head turned in unison, and the air seemed to shift as your savior, Satoru Gojo made his entrance.

His attire was impeccable—a finely tailored waistcoat of deep blue, embroidered with silver thread that caught the light just so, paired with polished boots that gleamed as if they had never touched the ground. Yet, despite the formal attire, there was an air of disarming casualness about him, a kind of effortless elegance that made the room's grandeur seem almost insignificant by comparison.

His damp hair, still tousled from what must have been a recent bath, added an edge to his otherwise polished appearance. Droplets of water shimmered at the tips of his white locks, catching the light as he ran a hand through them. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, seemed to announce his arrival to you even before he spoke.

He strolled in with an air of ease. “It seems that our guests are finally here!” He moved with an easy grace, crossing the room in a few long strides, bowing slightly to the duchess and your mother before turning his attention to you. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary, a playful glint in his eyes as if he could sense the internal battle you had been fighting mere seconds ago.

“Miss Itadori,” he greeted you with a smile that could have melted the iciest of hearts, “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

Your mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. “Ah, Satoru! Come, sit with us.” She motioned to the spot next to you with enthusiasm. “Why don’t you and Miss Itadori sit together?”

Choso’s sharp gaze followed him with a hint of suspicion, but he made no objection as Gojo accepted the invitation, seating himself beside you with an infuriatingly confident smile. Yuji and Choso remained on the opposite couch, observing the scene with varying degrees of curiosity and caution.

“Well then,” Gojo began, grabbing an obscene amount of scones to heap on his plate, “I was just at the

archery range earlier today. Quite the exhilarating sport. I find it sharpens the mind as much as the aim.”

Yuji, ever the admirer of feats of physical skill, leaned forward with interest. “Archery, my lord? That sounds remarkable! I must admit, I’ve always found it to be one of the noblest of pursuits.”

Gojo leaned back into the couch, resting one arm casually behind you on the backrest, his posture the very picture of relaxed confidence. He smiled at Yuji’s enthusiasm and continued, “Archery has long been a favored pastime of mine. It requires precision, patience, and an understanding of balance—qualities I find both necessary and rewarding. I've dedicated many years to perfecting my skill with the bow.”

He paused, allowing a slight, reflective smile to touch his lips. “In fact, just last month, I competed in the annual tournament at Her Majesty’s estate and managed to hit the bullseye in every round. Some of the other competitors remarked that it was almost unnatural, but I assure you, it is merely the result of countless hours spent at the range.”

Yuji’s eyes widened with admiration. “Every round? That’s incredible, Lord Gojo! Your dedication must be unparalleled.”

Gojo shrugged with mock humility, though his eyes glinted with pride. “It’s all in the discipline, really. Once you understand the rhythm of the draw and the release, it becomes second nature. Of course, the challenge is in maintaining that focus while under pressure. But I’ve found that to be the most exhilarating part—especially when the crowd is watching.”

Yuji nodded fervently, clearly enthralled. “I would love to see you in action, my lord! Perhaps you could give me a few pointers one day.”

Gojo chuckled, his gaze shifting to you for a moment before returning to Yuji. “Ah, I’m sure you’d take it quite well, Yuji. Perhaps we could all visit the range together during your stay here.”

The nonchalant arrogance in his voice, paired with the image of him lording his skill over others, irritated you. You couldn’t resist a small quip, your tone light. “Oh, indeed, Lord Gojo. Your accomplishments are so profound that I fear I might believe you are telling tales. Of course, I wonder with all this focus on archery, do you leave any time for pursuits that require a bit more… finesse?”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they met yours, his gaze sharp with understanding. Yet, rather than take offense, he allowed a playful smirk to curl on his lips, his voice laced with teasing intent. “Ah, Miss Itadori, archery indeed requires finesse, I assure you. But perhaps you’d care to test that claim yourself? I’d be more than happy to provide a demonstration.”

As he leaned in closer, you found yourself all too aware of his presence. The scent of his cologne, a warm and intoxicating blend of vanilla and tobacco, filled the air between you, making it difficult to maintain your composure. His face hovered just near enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

“In fact,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “I’d wager that with a little practice, you might find yourself hitting the mark with more than just words.”

His proximity made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Despite your resolve to remain composed, the effect of his closeness and the quiet intensity in his voice left you momentarily at a loss for words.

Choso, sitting across from you, gave Gojo a sharp look. Meanwhile, Yuji was practically beaming at the prospect of an archery lesson from the lord himself.

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “Perhaps,” you replied, your voice more controlled than you expected, though there was still a slight quiver in it. “But I’ve found that words can be just as powerful, if not more so.”

Gojo smirked, his gaze lingering on your face as if savoring the moment. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable, and you could feel the weight of it, pressing against your own resolve. But you wouldn’t allow him to see just how much he affected you—at least, not yet.

Despite the warmth in your cheeks and the flutter in your chest, you held his gaze, meeting his playful intensity with your own determined calm.

However, your mother’s voice broke through the spell. “Oh, Your Grace, might we have a tour of the manor sometime?”

Duchess Gojo, clearly delighted to show off her home, nodded eagerly. “Of course! There is a pavilion overlooking our garden where we can play pall-mall, and the library is quite extensive.” Your interest piqued at the mention of the library, and you made yourself a mental note to explore where it was.

Then she turned her gaze towards you, her expression growing more conspiratorial. “And as for Miss Itadori, Satoru has promised to give her a personal tour of the grounds tomorrow after she takes rest today.”

You stiffened at the suggestion, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gojo lean in slightly, his mischievous grin widening as he whispered, “I’ll be sure to make it… thorough.”

You couldn’t sleep.

Restless thoughts kept you tossing and turning, denying you any hope of finding solace in slumber. The events of the day had left you drained, and after the conversation in the drawing room, you had collapsed into the plush, inviting bed. Sleep had claimed you almost instantly. But now, in the dark silence of the night, you awoke with a start, your mind refusing to quiet. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t escape the whirlwind of thoughts that stirred within you.

The prospect of the coming days loomed over you, a storm of anxiety brewing. Spending time with Gojo, of all people? Your mother’s insistent push for this potential marriage was unbearable. How could you possibly tell her that you despised the man? The mere thought of being bound to him in matrimony was a nightmare⸺marriage itself was daunting enough, but to an arrogant, loquacious, and insufferably self-assured man like him? It would be nothing short of Hell on earth.

With a frustrated sigh, you rose from bed and rubbed your face, trying to dispel the fog of sleeplessness. Perhaps a visit to the manor’s library⸺the one mentioned during tea⸺would offer some distraction. Grabbing a lantern, you slipped out of your room, treading softly down the stairs and into the main hallway. You moved with the caution of a thief; your mother would surely not approve of your nocturnal wanderings. Her voice echoed in your mind, sharp and reprimanding: “Good things never happen in the dead of night!”

As you opened the library’s grand doors, a soothing fragrance enveloped you⸺the scent of aged paper mingled with a hint of vanilla, a fragrance unique to this room. But what truly took your breath away was the sheer size of the library.

Bookshelves lined the walls, rising two stories high, creating a space that could easily have served as a grand ballroom. Cozy nooks beckoned you to sit, while further exploration revealed tables and armchairs tucked away behind towering shelves. It was a bibliophile’s paradise.

Your eyes roved over the multitude of volumes: ancient ledgers, personal family records, scholarly works on politics, astronomy, and the sciences. Though you did not often indulge in scientific pursuits, you found them fascinating whenever the opportunity arose. One book in particular caught your eye:

Observations on the Planet Venus.

Drawn to the back of the library, you found a large window offering a stunning view of the garden and pavilion, bathed in starlight. You couldn’t resist the allure of the table beside it, where you settled in and began to read.

“The planet Venus is an object that has long engaged my particular attention. A series of observations upon it, which I began in April, 1777, has been continued down to the present time…”

Time slipped away as you became engrossed in the text, the lantern’s light flickering softly as you pored over the meticulous observations and calculations. Your hands were soon stained with ink, evidence of the notes you had been feverishly jotting down on scraps of parchment you had found in a supply cabinet. A good hour or two had passed before you finally leaned back, stretching your tired muscles. You rested your head on your arms, intending to close your eyes for just a moment. Soon, you found that your sleepy brain forced you to reflect and muse upon your life, as a mind often does at three.

What a pity it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Gojo. If only he were different, you might have lived in this manor, with its perfect library, forever. You could imagine it: waking in the mornings in your fluffy bed, sharing the latest discoveries in astronomy and medicine with your handsome husband…

Truly, what a pity. Your sleep-deprived mind began to conjure an image of this imagined husband—tall, nearly Gojo’s height, with kind eyes and lips that would kiss you gently awake each morning (unlike Gojo’s snark). You envisioned banter over breakfast, late-night rendezvous in the library, and tender embraces in bed…

Before you could delve deeper into your fantasy, the sound of footsteps jolted you back to reality. The tread was deliberate, too similar to your mother’s for comfort, and panic flared within you. Your mind, already muddled with exhaustion, conjured the worst possible scenario—your mother finding you here, in the library where you had no business being at this hour.

Memories of her discovering forbidden books in your childhood flashed before your eyes, and your breath quickened in fear. Rising as quietly as you could, you pressed your hands over your mouth to stifle any sound, creeping toward a bookshelf to hide. But the footsteps drew closer, relentless in their pursuit. You felt like prey, cornered and desperate.

Getting out of your chair as quietly as you could, you squeezed your eyes shut and put both of your hands over your mouth so you didn’t start making audible gasps that would let the person know where you were immediately. Softly⸺but panickedly⸺walking towards a bookshelf, you hid as you traced the footsteps getting closer and closer to you. You tried to walk away from the sound, but it seemed like the person was listening intently for your movements. You couldn’t help but think you were like prey, cornered and desperate.

However, it was all for naught; your heart sank as you realized you had ended up in an alley of bookshelves that were up against the wall, essentially creating a dead end for you. The steps got closer and closer, and you drew yourself closer and closer to the wall. Your eyes was still shut, but you could hear the steps around the corner, coming closer and closer.

The footsteps were merely a few feet away from you, and in a moment of sheer panic, you blurted out, “I am sorry, Mother⸺”

“Excuse me,” came a voice that was decidedly not your mother’s. Your eyes flew open to find none other than Gojo, his blue eyes alight with offense. “Do I resemble your mother in any way?”

You blinked, struggling to process the sight before you. He was holding a quill, ink, and a stack of notebooks that resembled the ledgers you had seen earlier, along with a plate of scones that looked absurdly sugary.

“I—” you stammered, taking a sharp breath to compose yourself and paused, looking at Gojo⸺who was shooting you a petulant frown⸺take a big bite of his scone. “Your tread was uncannily similar.”

He paused, chewing on a scone with a sulky expression, while you averted your gaze in embarrassment.

When he finished chewing, he cleared his throat. “You must possess rather poor hearing to mistake a man of my stature for a lady.”

You shrugged, still flustered. “Perhaps you have an unusually light step.”

An awkward silence settled between you as Gojo took another loud bite of his scone. You hastened to break it. “It is quite late; I must take my leave. Good night, my lord.”

You bowed your head slightly and moved to leave, but before you could slip past him, he blocked your path, suspicion narrowing his gaze. “What business do you have in the Gojo library at this hour?”

“Nothing of import,” you squeaked.

At the not-very-innocuous tone in your voice, his eyes narrowed further. “Your tone suggests otherwise.” He leaned in, his gaze sweeping over you with exaggerated scrutiny. Noticing the ink stains on your hands, he quipped, “Were you tampering with important records?”

Your heart raced, knowing that he wouldn’t be entirely wrong to suspect you⸺what else would a lady be doing in a library at this hour? It was a no-win situation: confess to reading a book and risk your mother’s wrath, or be accused of something far more serious.

It was best to come clean. “I was merely reading a book,” you confessed. “I can show you precisely where I sat and what I was doing.”

Gojo’s expression softened, but he quickly continued his theatrical suspicion and hmmphed. “Of course. I must be certain that no mischief has been afoot.”

You led him back to the table where you had been reading. He sat across from you, depositing his supplies onto the table with a flourish and leaned back, crossing his arms. Ever the investigator, he watched as you retrieved the book. It bore no resemblance to the Gojo ledgers, which had the telltale blue cover and Gojo insignia, which consisted of six eyes.

Upon seeing this, he nodded in acknowledgment. “You are exonerated.”

At that, you sighed and clutched your chest. For a moment, you contemplated pleading with Gojo to keep your late library visit secret from your mother but you shot the idea down for two reasons. First, you would never lower yourself to plead with Gojo, and second, Gojo⸺ever the insufferable man⸺would definitely make sure to mention it to your mother and further exacerbate the issue.

As he began arranging his ink bottles and quills, preparing to work on his ledgers, you took a moment to observe him. He was dressed in casual attire, loose-fitting trousers and a white shirt with several buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. Slut.

It took you a moment to realize that he was settling in at your table. You frowned. “I beg your pardon, but this is my spot.”

Gojo looked up from his work, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “My dear, this is my library. Thus, it is my spot.”

You opened your mouth to retort, then closed it in frustration. He was right, after all. The entire manor was his. Your silence seemed to amuse him, as he returned to his ledgers with a smug smile.

Now, you didn’t really know what to do⸺should you go back to your room, or should you stay and continue reading the book? In your indecision, you continued to flip through the pages of the book, particularly because you wanted to finish the conclusion section before going to bed. But you soon felt his gaze upon you, the sound of his quill slowing down.

You didn’t look up. “Might I suggest you cease staring at me? It is quite improper.” “What? Why would I do so? To watch you peruse a tedious romance novel?”

“This is a book on the state of the art of astronomy.”

“Indeed? I confess, I am surprised.”

Your irritation flared and you whipped your head up to glare at Gojo. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I was under the impression that young ladies’ interests lie solely in matters of the heart.”

“So, in addition to gossiping, you are also prone to narrow-minded assumptions?”

Gojo scoffed. “Narrow-minded? It is a simple observation. Both men and women often indulge in fanciful notions of love.”

You scoffed. “Ah, so you hold yourself above other men. What are you, God?”

Gojo ignored your remark. “Those who read such frivolities are seldom engaged in serious thought or the appreciation of true art.”

“Romance allows one to experience love and joy. Does the prospect of happiness through art truly horrify you?” You stood, glaring at him. “Unlike you, my lord, ladies such as myself cannot frequent dubious establishments such as brothels to seek out lovers. Our reputations and futures are at stake.” Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. “To deny women the solace of love is cruel. It is our only refuge in a world that forces us into unwanted marriages!”

When you were done ranting to Gojo, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in. Truly, this man could bother you like no other; only your siblings have caused this much heat on your face due to anger. The only sounds in the library was your rushed breathing, from anger.

Gojo scoffed. “You truly think too much.”

You offered a sharp scoff. "And you, far too little. Even Sukuna Jr. possesses more emotional intelligence than you."

"Do not compare me to that wretched creature," Gojo retorted.

You gasped in disbelief. "How dare you speak of Kuna in such a manner!"

"Then perhaps you should keep him from fouling the air around me!" he snapped.

A sly smile crept across your lips. "He merely knows whom to guard me against."

At reference of That Night, Gojo sighs exhaustedly. “Do you find trouble with the judgments I made that night? None of that was meant for you.”

“Are you quite serious?” You were in disbelief. Does he truly feel no remorse? Frustrated, you ran a hand over your face. “Your words may not have been intended for me, but they were no less cutting. I cannot abide such arrogance, my lord.”

Gojo leaned back, crossing his arms with an air of indifference. “Arrogance or simply honesty? I merely spoke the truth as I see it.”

“Your so-called truth is nothing more than disdain wrapped in wit,” you snapped, feeling your temper rise again. “You speak as though your opinions are infallible, as if you alone have the right to pass judgment on others.”

“I only say what others are too afraid to voice,” he retorted, his tone cool. “If that makes me arrogant, then so be it. But I will not apologize for it.”

“Of course not,” you said bitterly. “An apology would require some measure of humility, and that is something you clearly lack.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing more clipped. “I fail to see why my opinions should trouble you so much. Perhaps you are simply too sensitive.”

Your anger flared at his dismissive tone. “Or perhaps you are too blind to see the harm your words cause. You claim to be honest, but what you truly are is cruel.”

“Cruel?” Gojo’s voice was sharp now, his composure slipping. “For speaking the truth? For refusing to coddle those who cannot handle it?”

“For refusing to consider the feelings of others!” you countered, your voice rising in frustration. “Not everything is a game or a joke, my lord. Your words have consequences, whether you acknowledge them or not.”

A tense silence fell between you, each of you locked in a stubborn glare, neither willing to yield. Finally, you shook your head, the weight of your frustration pressing down on you. “I cannot do this,” you muttered, turning away. “You are utterly impossible.”

You began to walk away, but Gojo’s voice cut through the silence. “Running away so soon?” There was a hint of something in his tone⸺something almost like disappointment⸺but you dismissed it.

You paused, glancing back at him with a hardened expression. “There is no point in continuing this conversation. You refuse to see reason, and I refuse to waste any more of my time on you.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and left the library, your heart pounding with irritation and anger. As the door closed behind you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of heaviness in your chest.

prev. the aftermath | next. the game

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n gojo the type to hit ur g spot every ti---WHAT WHO SAID THAT?

anyways yes we r getting (sort of) freaky in the next chapter (gojo busts in his pants seeing reader's ankles /j)

gojo when reader thought he was her mama

also tysm for all the asks, and comments, and love you guys have shown me. super motivating that you guys are enjoying the story and propels me to write more <3

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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astrologylunadream · 5 months ago

Text

What They Think of You 💬🍑🍨 ໒꒱˖˚. (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hii it's Lunadream~ We're going to see what that person really thinks of you! Time to spill the tea on them my loves🤭 Thank you for 1.7k! hope you find your message!💌

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~☕️🍑♡₊‧⁺˖

Pile 1✨️

Pile 2🩶

Pile 3🏹

Pile 4💒

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🎀

Pile 1✨️

Sign energy: Bend, Unseen, Ego, Under, Focus, Scorpio, 5th house, Water, Chiron, 8th house,🟩✉️♑️🥗

🍨Your person's energy: Okay your person's energy is very intense and attention grabbing😳 Passionate nature to them, they get fixated on things easily I'm hearing. Prominent energy is Scorpio, Leo, Capricorn. May have 5th/8th house placements, also water sign energy is present here. For some I'm also getting scorpio/pluto in 5th vibes, they have such an attractive and magnetic beauty😩🖤 This person is romantic too, their passion and focus in their romantic relationships can almost be intoxicating because they are so intense😭 They seem untouchable or a little intimidating to others, but they are not overly cocky. They have their ego in check for sure, like they have a healthy sense of self worth without overdoing it👑 For some in this pile, your person may have obsessed hidden admirers or people look up to them in some way secretly. Your person is very analytical and they just have such a powerful presence about them!!��❤️‍🔥🧲 But they do have unseen possessive tendencies about them, like they are the kind to want their person to be THEIRS only. May be a bit controlling and distrustful. They can be very serious and take things to heart. Your person wants to live healthy and successfully, might want to follow a strict diet for some.🥗🍵 They are self disciplined and work hard on themselves I'm hearing, may tend to hide their pain or wounds whether it's physically or emotionally.💔 This person may be sort of a rolemodel to you, or they inspire you somehow. That's really sweet🥺 Green is a significant color here, you may really wish to get in touch with this person or want to confess your feelings💗

💬What they think of you: Dominant, Yellow, Alice in wonderland, Far away, Diary, Venus, 5th house, 3rd house, Saturn, 6th house,🎰💎🤩🤙

Okay my pile 1's you could be at a distance from this person mentally or phsyically, whatever the case they think they can't properly manage you. Like they don't think they can control the situation or take any action with you.😩✋️ It doesn't sit right with your person because they hate feeling powerless like that.🫢 I can definitely see a phsyical attraction from your person, they could overthink their relationship with you.💭🌪 But to them, you are so attractive and full of charm.💋 They think of you as something precious and full of worth, like seriously you are so desirable and I think that stresses your person out😭 They think you're strong and independent, that might make them insecure because they want to be needed depended on. For only some of my pile 1's there could be power struggles within your relationship and how you view eachother. They think you're overly flirty?❤️‍🔥😂 Idk honestly you might not even act like that but it's just your person thinks you're being intentional with everything you do ohhh they are so jealous pile 1🙈🔥✨️ They worry if you're bad news, it feels like they are playing with fire. But they think you're really cool!! They're impressed by you honestly, and you pique their curiosity and interest. It seems the main thing here is that they're very unsure about your intentions, they think you're risky.😳 For whatever reason your person is hesitant to take action, like you're a dangerous person they don't think they can tame. They are nervous and in their head about the situation with you.🧠💭 Definitely wondering about you, there is possibility of romantic attraction from their side here👏 Something about you seems rare and untouchable, they are questioning you as well as themselves🫢❤️‍🔥

💌Messages from your person: Believe in yourself, I need someone, It's hard to resist, You seem so happy, Not everything is meant to be, I understand you, I wish I could give you a sign, I don't like where this is going.💸🥂😌🪞 (The mirror emoji came out wow that the image of this pile!)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the sparkle emoji~✨️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Pile 2🩶

Sign energy: Breath, Audience, Neptune, Practice, Youth, 1st house, 6th house, Taurus, Fire, Libra,🥺🏰🦀💃

🍨Your person's energy: This is someone you are fantasizing about pile 2 I see you~👀💕 Lol this person has a really nice voice, they could be younger for some mostly they are just very youthful.☀️ Signs that came out are Pisces, Aries, Virgo, Taurus, Libra and fire energy, they could be Libra/Venus rising or have Neptune in 6th house, Taurus over the 6th for some. There is some Cancer symbolism aswell, Your person is quite pretty!🤗💖 You could be like this emoji whenever you see them🥺 Very beautiful physically, for some of you this person has many admirers, it seems like especially feminines favor this person.♀️ There is some fire energy present here, this person could enjoy music or dance. Mexico could be significant to your person for some of you💫🇲🇽 I'm hearing the tango lol. Whoever this is has a feminine energy to them (no matter their gender) And feminines feel very drawn to them, they are a very likable person I'm hearing.🥰 This is definitely someone you are romantically interested in because of the venus energy present in this reading so far, this person is very lovely my pile 2's!💖 I feel like this person has sort of princess/prince vibes to them, also getting "pretty privilege" lol people may take a liking to them almost like love at first sight, also they're persuasive like they could ask for something in a sweet voice and anyone would be sold on them😭🩷 Very cute, your person is so charming!

💬What they think of you: Poker face, Compliment, Fancy, Unicorn, Neptune, 4th house, Virgo, 12th house, Sun, Water,🦢🔫🙆‍♀️🎤

Alright so this person definitely thinks of you haha. They think you're classy and even graceful, that is likely something they would want to compliment you on. You're caring and respectful, it feels very unclear what they really think of you or at least you feel that way🥲 They more so unconsciously think of you, even worry. They can't exactly figure you out, you're something very rare to them with unicorn coming out here. You have a mystical vibe to you, graceful and alluring💕✨️ Your person may have dreams of you. You are very mysterious to them, they think you're confusing and they wanna know more about you especially your family or background.🏠 This person's thoughts of you may be hidden from you, they could seem disinterested or send mixed signals instead of what they actually think of you.💭🫥 They haven't met anyone like you I'm hearing, pile 2 is quite individual! They think you're a catch, also very caring about you they might worry if you have eaten or got enough sleep little things like that🥺💗 Really sweet, they think you're neat and well dressed I'm hearing. I am getting swan lake vibes for this pile, like this person thinks of you as odette lol. They think of you like a swan, very pretty and full of grace🦢 For some of you this person fantasizes of you without realizing it, like they could be unaware that they dream of you omg🤭 You take up this person's unconscious mind I'm hearing, so that's what they think of you!

💌Messages from your person: You can't let others hurt you, Give me a sign, You owe it to me, You bring me peace, My wounds won't heal, No, You're so lucky, It's killing me.🍹🍵🌧🐇 (I think this person feels like you're so blessed, they are down about something, they feel behind like you're way ahead of them in some way😢💓)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the grey heart emoji~🩶 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Pile 3🏹

Sign energy: Walk, Girlie, Street, Feel, Blossom, Venus, 4th house, 12th house, Capricorn, 5th house,😵‍💫🏠🚨💭

🍨Your person's energy: Okay this is someone very sweet and for some this person could have a sensitive side, they are very pretty🥰💗 This could be someone you met during spring, at work, somewhere beautiful even on the street for some.🌸 They have a feminine energy about them (regardless of gender!), their energy is just so pretty and kind. You may feel emotionally attracted to this person, I meant attached but my keyboard kept correcting me so I'll take it as a sign for you guys lol you might be attracted to this person's emotional side.😂💘 You feel a connection with them, you may feel like you really know them even if you don't know them that well. Oh right and signs for them may be Libra, Cancer, Pisces, Capricorn or Leo, Venus in 4th or 12th for some, Venus is 5th even, Capricorn/Cancer/Pisces venus, there is a lot of signs here they have noticable venusian energy and possibly 4th/5th/12th house placements!😇 Your person is so cute! They walk very beautiful and for some of my pile 3's they feel feminine or just very goodlooking/beautiful. This person might get confused a lot, their little mind is so imaginative😭🩷 They are very comforting, you may feel like you want to protect them and keep them safe. They have a siren energy, very alluring and illusive. Very connected to their home I'm hearing, pile 3 your person is such a dream! They are very intuitive and maybe even psychic, for some they could even be a hopeless romantic.💐

💬What they think of you: Distance, Secret admirer, August, Academy, 3rd house, 4th house, 9th house, Sagittarius, Uranus, Sun,🙈☔️🪄🆙️

Very interesting! This is so cute, I think my pile 3's person secretly admires them🤭🩷 They think you're really smart and they look up to you, you're a bit of an inspiration to them. You are like a ray of sunshine my pile 3's, you brighten their day☀️☺️ This person sees you as adventurous and wise, also super fun. They admire your free spirit, your knowledge and the way you think and communicate! You bring them more excitement, I can see them covering their face and smiling omg it is possible for some of you this person has a little crush on you! (or a big one😳) Secret admirer came out so it feels like they are interested in you or maybe they think you're interesting in them, they are mesmerized by the way you radiate confidence and kindness effortlessly, they care about you. You feel familiar to them, they feel comfortable in your presence I'm getting.💞🫂 August could be significant here, I'm doing this reading in august haha. You come off well cultured and extremely intelligent to this person, they may see you as someone they want to be cared by🥺 Or reverse they might want to take care of you, take what resonates! They think you communicate in a unique way, it sounds like they think you're genius lol.🧠💡 They admire your speaking abilities and think you're quite interesting, this person is very curious about you my pile 3's!🎉 They want to learn from you, they just wanna be around you, they like your energy.💬💞 You could be at a distance with them, for some you may talk online with this person. Some of you study with this person or possibly college for some. They think of you like a best friend, maybe even like a sibling but only for some. They think you are above their level in some way, they admire you so much omg.🫶🥺

💌Messages from your person: You make me nervous, Too bad, Be my lover, I'll only hold you back, I've seen you in my dreams, I want to share my interests with you, Can't we just see eachother? You make me sad.🧎‍♂️‍➡️🐭🧽🪜 (omg I'm crying there is some sort of distance here, they feel emotional over you pile 3😭 they are on their knees for you, mice/rats may be significant)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the arrow bow emoji~🏹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Pile 4💒

Sign energy: November, Run, Restraint, Winter, Closure, Fire, Moon, 3rd house, 5th house, 8th house,🆘️🌆📌💭

🍨Your person's energy: Wow this energy is intense, so much red imagery🫢 I was already picking up on scorpio energy and then boom 8th house at the end. This person could be born in november or winter for some, strong fire energy in this pile. They could be fire moon, Moon in 3rd house, Moon in 8th house, Scorpio moon, Fire in 8th house, Gemini, Leo, Scorpio sun or moon. This person has a sharp mind, their words are like knives I'm hearing🗣🔪🔪🔪 Some of you might be looking for closure with this person, this could have been someone you ended a relationship with or there is some tension or passion coming from them.😳🌋 This person is very attractive and seductive, they have intense emotions. They might have to hold themselves back from saying things that they shouldn't or from scaring anyone.🙊 You know looking at the image of this pile it has an eerie vibe, I think that fits your person too. Their mind might be a little destructive, for some this person has intrusive dark thoughts.💭 They are a deep and passionate lover, their energy is dangerous because because you feel drawn to it like a black hole.🕳😰 Yes this person very hot, but also make sure they aren't toxic or manipulative. Cities may be significant, also sunsets. You could feel pinned down by this person's energy, omg.😳 They are mentally attractive. There is a tension here with them, could be romantic tension or just simply conflict for others. This could definitely be an ex for some in this pile, or someone that feels forbidden. You may feel like you can't leave them, if this person is showing unhealthy behavior please use your own judgement just had to say because I love you pile 4😭❤️ Overall this person has a very strong energy, it's a little suffocating lol you may feel drawn to them like fire. Also some of you may be secretly obsessed with this person.

💬What they think of you: Violate, Special, Right, Endurance, Meeting, Eros, Scorpio, Capricorn, Water, 10th house,🟥👄🎁🛩

Okay there is a lot of passionate energy here um, this person thinks you're very strong and independent. They think you're special, they could be planning on meeting you in the future. This person thinks you're mature and responsible while also being hot as hell😭🔥 Well pile 4 I think this person wants to do bad things with you. I'm trying to keep it light for this reading of course, but this energy is very 🔞🥵 There is a ton of attraction from their side, for some of you this person is obsessed with you. They view you as an object of their desires, also they want to give themselves to you.😳 They are heavily attracted to my pile 4's, I'm picturing them staring at pile 4's lips rather then their eyes like what they think of you in a very sensual way. I'm hearing they want to "earn" you, they might bribe you with gifts or other things to seduce you.💋🎁 I feel like this person hopes they can make you fall for them. They might want to be intimate with you, they are very naughty about you honestly. They think of you a lot, also they might think of the future with you often. They might fantasizing being a little impulsive with you. I'm getting them planning and scheming how to get you to be theirs lol. They think you are just as intimidating as them and they love it, you're a baddie in their eyes.❤️‍🔥😈 They think you're hard to get, also one of a kind. I'm hearing "limited edition" that is what they think of you as. They think you're hard to please too I won't say why though🫣🚫 Honestly this person is exploding with passion over you, like they just phsyically react to just the thought of you. You make this person's thoughts so unholy, I'm not surprised because their initial energy was very intense and passionate. Please be careful with this person though, make sure they are only out for your best interest of course. Also I think they should keep their wild thoughts controlled so don't give them everything all at once.💋

💌Messages from your person: I can't tell, Don't get it twisted, I like it when you say my name, Would you let me? You're so positive, You're so serious, You're so funny, I want to give you everything.📿🥂🤐🪜 (I think they really like your personality, what got them so hell bent over my pile 4 they are hooked😩)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the wedding cathedral emoji~💒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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notlongtolove · 1 month ago

Text

a perpetual possibility

your whispered confession is barely loud enough for you to hear yourself, soft enough that he won’t catch it. your words cut through you, a blade sharp and merciless. you’ve always known you loved him—but you’ve never said it out loud. the knife twists deeper, making a home in your chest, right through your heart. this work is part of the burnt norton series

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: angst...

content: mentions of a crime scene, blood and knives. brief metaphorical mention of self harm, no actual self harm. situationship core. again. very avoidant. reader cries in spencers bed.

word count: 3.6k

note: part 2 to time present and time past, but i guess it could technically be read as a standalone. this wasn't what i originally had in mind so that may be saved for a part 3. i don't know if spencer is actually allowed to show crime scene photos but lets ignore that shall we. a line: Your eyes dart from one thing to the next as though they might offer some insight, some answers. But you know you’re just trying to piece together a puzzle he’s never invited you to solve.

What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. - t.s. eliot

In all the months you’d known Spencer—takeout dinners, movie nights, shared silences—you’d never once seen the inside of his bedroom. The late and long nights that inevitably ended in bed always unfolded at yours. Tonight had been no different, at least not at first.

The rain had been relentless. You’d tried to call a cab, even as the downpour soaked through your resolve. He’d said he could drive you himself, a half-hearted suggestion with a casual shrug. But then, when the thunder cracked again, he’d offered to let you stay instead—offered, not insisted. There was a sharp distinction, precise and piercing, a clear-cut difference that’s not lost on you.

“This okay?” he asked, holding up a shirt with a faded Caltech logo. It was too big for you, clearly, but it would have to do. You hovered in the doorway of his bedroom, awkward and uncertain, like a child unsure of what to do with their hands.

“S’fine,” you murmured.

He set the shirt on the bed with a nod. “Right, well, do you wanna shower first?”

“You go,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he could object. “You’re tired.”

“Okay,” he said after a beat, the word gentle, his footsteps already headed toward the bathroom. “Just—call out if you need anything.”

You gave him a faint smile in response, waiting until he was gone before stepping fully into the room. It was heavy with his presence, even in his absence. You stood there, unsure if you were looking for something or hoping not to find it. His walls were dark, so unlike yours. A book sat on his bedside table, and you wondered if it was the one he’d mentioned last week.

You’re no profiler, but your gaze sweeps the room all the same, catching on every detail. The file on his desk—was that why he seemed so drained tonight? The handle of the left drawer, more smooth from use than the right—what was in there that could be so important? Your eyes dart from one thing to the next as though they might offer some insight, some answers.

But you know you’re just trying to piece together a puzzle he’s never invited you to solve.

So instead, you watch as he tosses his shirt into the hamper from behind the bathroom door, his movements practiced, deliberate. Nobody else gets to see him like this. You trace the corners of his dresser, run your fingers along the edges of his space. Nobody else has ever been this close. Not like you. You tell yourself it’s enough.

It feels like progress, though you know better than to call it that. A weak flutter of hope stirs, something small and fragile, and you try to stamp it out—not progress, no progress to be made here. But still, the voice in your head whispers: it’s something, at least.

You hadn’t planned on staying, truthfully. That was a hope you’d long since buried, a privilege you’d relinquished without ever quite consenting to its loss. Spencer had always been better at boundaries than you—he’d flirt with their edges now and then, but he never let them fall quite like you do. You’d learned not to expect him to.

That’s why you’d stopped asking questions—the what ifs and the if onlys—stopped trying to claw your way through the walls he kept so carefully intact. You’d used to push harder, searching for a reaction, any sign he still cared, that he could still feel, still hurt with the same intensity you did. But at some point, the not-knowing had become easier to bear than the risk of knowing. Because while you’ve made your speeches more times than you can count, you know if Spencer ever said he was done, he’d mean it.

You on the other hand, had tried to walk away more times than you cared to admit, each time thinking it was the last, that maybe it would finally stick. But it never did. Your words always faltered, teetering between resolve and hesitation, walking that razor-thin line between staying and leaving but never fully committing to either.

Your friends had their opinions—you didn’t need to hear them to know. You’d stopped willingly bringing Spencer up in conversation a long time ago. It was a quiet betrayal of silence, slowly keeping pieces of your relationship tucked away from them. Relationship, ha. Could you even call it that? You never thought you’d be the type to settle for something undefined, falling into the well-worn cliché of excuses: he��s different when we’re alone, it’s complicated, they don’t see what I see. You’d always promised yourself you wouldn’t be the girl who believed that the good moments could somehow outweigh the bad. But in the silence of moments together, when his walls softened just enough, it was impossible to believe this was anything other than love.

Even if he couldn’t say it. Even if you’d both agreed to be ‘just friends’. You knew.

It was in the way his hands lingered at your waist now, pulling you closer, his damp hair curling against his forehead.

“Put a towel in there for you” he murmurs into your neck, “Think you’ll look good in my shirt.” Your heart stumbled at the casual intimacy of the words and you forced a playful shove, masking the hurt in your chest with a coy smile.

Spencer’s bathroom is nothing like his bedroom—The walls a cold, clinical white, pristine in a way that makes the small space feel even more like a shrine to order. Every surface is perfectly curated, free of clutter or unnecessary items—Spencer’s bathroom is most definitely nothing like yours either.

As you reach for the towel he’s left for you, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The signs of a long day are evident on your face. You can see it in the fatigue in your eyes, in the smudged eyeliner that’s long since run. Your fingers reach out instinctively, brushing away the evidence of weariness before you step into his shower. Huh, who knew Spencer Reid was a cotton chamomile kind of guy?

By the time you’re out of the bathroom, the room is already casted in a muted glow from his bedside lamp. Spencer is propped up against the headboard, engrossed in the case file you’d spotted earlier, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—an uncommon but always welcome sight. A rare treat for you.

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, towel in hand, your hair damp and tangled. You let out a small, uncertain cough to draw his attention, “Um, hey, Spence?”

“Hm?” His voice is soft, distracted.

“We forgot one thing.”

He looks up, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose, “What’s that?”

You tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up against your thigh. The movement draws a teasing glance from him as you add, “Kinda need pants.”

A smirk forms on Spencer’s lips, playful and a little wicked. He stretches out the sheets from his legs and swings them aside, the cool air brushing against his skin as he walks across the floor toward you. There’s a teasing lilt in his voice as he steps into the space between you, his fingers brushing yours as he reaches for your hand.

“You know, in the old days, they just used leaves,” he says, his voice low and warm as he leads you toward the dresser in the corner.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking despite yourself, “In the old days, they also worshipped dung beetles.”

He chuckles, the sound low and amused, and opens the left drawer. “Red or blue?” he asks teasingly, his eyes expectant as he waits for your answer.

“Red,” you say, with a playful nod.

Spencer’s hand moves to retrieve a pair of red plaid boxers. So that’s what’s in there. You take them from him, your fingers grazing his. He watches, a subtle smile playing on his lips as you slip into them. Your damp hair clings to your face as you try to keep his shirt from falling off your shoulder. He leans against the dresser, eyes warm with a hint of amusement.

“What?” you deadpan, fully aware of how disheveled you must look.

“I was right. You do look good in my shirt.”

You scoff, pushing the wet hair out of your face, “You should know that flattery gets you nowhere, doctor.”

His fingers brush your shoulder as he helps you by gently tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “It got you here, didn’t it?” he said, eyes bright with that teasing spark as he leads you toward the bed.

“Technically, the rain did.”

He chuckled, a low sound that resonated through the space between you, “Hey, I offered to drive you home,” the grin on his face daring you to find fault.

You bristled at that, even as you knew he was teasing. There was an edge of truth to it that you couldn’t ignore. The rain really had been the only thing that had brought you here, with him, in this moment. This was the game you both played—one that kept the lines blurred, that kept you both on this side of real. And as much as you wanted to pretend otherwise, you knew nothing would change. Not really.

You clambered onto his bed, trying to distract yourself. The mattress dips under your weight. His side of it was scattered with case photos—splotches of red, maroon streaks, the cold glint of a knife. Spencer followed your gaze, his hand sweeping across the bed to flip the photos over, stacking them into a precise, face-down pile.

“Mm, don’t look,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

“M’fine, show me,” you countered.

“It’s pretty gory.”

“I can handle it.”

There was a pause. He hesitated, considering, before sliding the first photo into view. You exhaled. It wasn’t as bad as you’d expected—red smeared across a wall, stark against the sterile background.

The next one was harder: a close-up of a hand, blue and lifeless. Your stomach turned, but you pressed your lips together and didn’t look away.

Spencer hesitated again, his fingers hovering over the next photo. "Oh, come on. It’s not like I don’t know what you do," you said, voice laced with mock impatience. He’s not convinced. "Spencer, I’ve quite literally fallen asleep to you describing how Marquette dismembered his victims. In detail, might I add.”

With a reluctant sigh, he handed it over. It landed like a punch: A knife, buried hilt-deep in a chest, blood pooling in wide, dark circles. Your breath hitched. Okay, maybe this one had a little kick.

“Stabbed himself,” Spencer said, breaking the silence. “His wife was there. Saw the whole thing.”

“God,” you murmured, horrified. “That’s awful. Didn’t she try to help like, pull it out or something?”

Spencer turns to you, frowning like you’d personally been the one to stab the poor man. “You don’t pull the knife out when you’re stabbed. You’ll bleed out. Everyone knows that.”

“Oh.” The word slips out, small and hollow.

You sit there, feeling a little sheepish, like a student who’d just answered wrong in class. Moments like these always reminded you that you lived in two entirely different worlds. You’d never know the things that came second nature to him. You weren’t built for his world, and you knew it. You couldn’t help but think back to the pretty agent he’d mentioned once—She’d probably know better than to say something like that. She belongs in his team, in his world. She’d fit.

You know all about his team, or at least the fragments he’d shared with you. There was Penelope Garcia, endlessly chirpy and endearing. Derek Morgan was hard to forget, he teased Spencer relentlessly but loved him all the same. And of course, Aaron Hotchner, whose clipped, commanding voice you’d overheard in late-night phone calls that always seemed to pull Spencer away from you.

You wonder if your naive questions ever made their way into their office—the bullpen, he called it—as anecdotes. Maybe they’d laugh, just a little. But even that would surprise you. You doubted they even knew you existed. Probably not. Probably better that way, you told yourself.

“Enough of that,” Spencer says, cutting clean through your spiralling thoughts. He shuffles the photos into a neat stack and sets the last of them on the nightstand, “Get some sleep. I’ve gotta be up early.”

“Early?” you repeat, drawing out the word. You tug the blanket up over yourself, settling into his bed. The sheets are colder than yours, smooth in a way that feels unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

“You can stay, though. Let yourself out whenever—you know where your key is.”

Your key. You’d never taken it back the last time you’d tossed it at him in a fit of rage. He hadn’t offered it back, either. Still, something warms in you at the fact he still acknowledges your past claim on it.

“How early is early?” you ask, peeking at him in the dim light.

“Six,” he says simply, settling into his pillow.

You glance at the clock, its green numbers casting a faint glow in the room. “Spence, it’s one. You have to leave in five hours?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, already tinged with regret.

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Why?”

You hesitate, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” you admit softly. “I just thought we’d get to talk or something. I saw this video the other day, wanted to, show you…”

Your words taper off as he leans over and flicks off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. For a moment, the only sounds are the muffled patter of rain against the window and the faint rustling of sheets as Spencer adjusts his position. You stare into the darkness, blinking as your eyes struggle to adapt. The sudden shift is jarring.

“Send it to me,” he murmurs, his voice already softened by exhaustion. “I’ll watch it on the jet tomorrow. Promise.” Then, he leans over and presses a light kiss to your temple, warm and fleeting. “Goodnight,” he says, his breath brushing against your skin.

“G’night…” you reply, though it’s more reflex than anything else.

He’s already drifting off, his breathing steady and even, and you’re left alone with the rhythm of it. You try to follow it, to let it lull you into sleep.

You roll onto your side, facing away from him, and pull the blanket tighter around yourself. The video you’d seen earlier—the one about that experiment with memory or maybe the one about the stars—floats back into your mind. You’d pictured showing it to him, watching the way his brow would furrow as he concentrated, the slight tilt of his head when something intrigued him. You’d imagined him asking questions, diving into tangents, his words spilling out in that way only he could manage.

But now, in the silence, it feels like a small, insignificant thing. Not worth sending. Not worth saving. You feel like a small, insignificant thing.

Your chest tightens, and before you know it, tears start to spill over. They carve silent paths down your cheeks. You clench your jaw, willing them to stop, but it’s no use. The ache has grown too deep, too wide. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to contain the sob that threatens to break free, trying to force it back into its corner.

You let out a sniffle.

Spencer shifts beside you. “Hey, what—what’s wrong?” His voice is low, rough with sleep but laced with concern.

You shake your head instinctively, but in the dark, he can’t see you. You take a ragged breath, fingers brushing against the dampness on your cheeks, and will yourself to speak, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you. “I’m fine,” you say, a little too cheerily.

But then his arm is around you, pulling you closer, and you know he doesn’t believe you. You feel the warmth of him press into your side. He lifts a hand, tracing the edge of your jaw before settling it lightly against your cheek.

“You’re not fine,” he says. “You’re crying”. The words so simple, so obvious, that they shatter you.

You swallow hard, forcing a weak, half-hearted smile. “I yawned,” you try to joke, but the lie sounds thin. Even to you, it sounds pitiful.

“Why are you crying baby?”

The nickname stings. It’s tenderness wrapped in barbed wire. A small sob escapes before you can stop it, raw and sharp.

“Oh, baby.” His voice cracks just enough to make your chest ache. If it weren’t for the tears streaking your face, you might believe he was the one with a breaking heart. “Tell me. Please?”

A hundred reasons run through your mind, but each one is too tangled with a hope you’re too afraid to voice. You search for a response that doesn’t carry the vulnerability of everything you feel. There isn’t one.

“Nothing,” you whisper, though the tremor in your voice says otherwise. “I just… I’ll just really miss you.”

His thumb brushes against your skin as his hand shifts from your cheek to the back of your neck, the other hand gently tangling in your hair. “I’ll miss you too,” he says, the words a balm to the sting in your chest.

Not like how I miss you, you think. Never like that.

Spencer might miss you when he’s on a case, when there’s no one around to laugh at his inside jokes or split a pizza with him the way you do—You take his pineapples, he takes your olives.

But you? You miss him even when he’s right there, in the space between his bedsheets, breathing beside you. It’s the kind of yearning that doesn’t go away with proximity. Outside, the rain only grows heavier. You wonder if this is how it will always be—him moving at a pace you can’t quite match, leaving you behind in the moments you most want to hold onto. You wonder if he notices the distance growing, or if he’s already made peace with it, content to live in two separate orbits that only sometimes, briefly, collide.

He shifts, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really why you’re crying?” The stroking of his fingers in your hair has stilled now, his breathing evening out as his eyes begin to drift shut.

The question pricks at you, guilt twisting in your chest. He has to be up in five hours, and here you are, clinging to the last moments of the night and keeping him from sleep. You feel stupid, selfish even.

“Yeah, really. Just… got a little emotional—cause, I’ll miss you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a second, you’re sure he’s going to press further. But instead, he just shifts closer, his hand settling more firmly against your neck. His lips finds yours in the darkness. It’s a kiss that’s slow and deep, a rare kind of intimacy that stuns you into silence. You freeze, breath caught, heart drumming against your ribcage. It’s been weeks since you felt a kiss felt like this, something unhurried. But before you can process it, he’s already pulling back.

“I’ll be back on…” He pauses, his eyes drifting slightly as the exhaustion begins to pull at his usually sharp focus. You can almost see the effort it takes to keep his words clear. You picture his expression in the darkness—a little weary, brows furrowed. “Thursday. We’ll do dinner then, okay?” He continues, “We could go out—”

Your heart leaps before you can stop it.

“Or just stay in—”

Oh.

“Whatever you want, your choice,” he adds.

You know it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that he’s so used to this. Still, the casual tone, the gentle shrug of an offer, it makes your chest tighten once again.

Before exhaustion fully takes him, his eyes find yours one last time, “you know you can tell me anything.” It’s a warm sort of reassurance that only threatens to bring more tears to the surface. You nod, blinking rapidly, willing them to stay hidden.

You make out a faint smile from him, and his hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers tightening around you. His thumb brushes against your skin, soft and tender, catching the last of the tears that dare to fall.

“Thursday, yeah?”

“Okay.”

And then he’s settling back into the darkness, his breathing deepening as sleep claims him. The silence that follows is absolute.

He’d said you could tell him anything. But how could you possibly explain anything when it feels like everything?

I’m crying because I’m sad that you’re always leaving me, again.

I’m crying because I’m angry that it took a storm for you to let me in.

I’m crying because I’m scared that whenever you go, it won’t be me you come back to.

I’m crying because I’m sad, angry, and scared—because I love you. And I know you don’t love me.

“I love you.”

Your whispered confession is barely loud enough for you to hear yourself, soft enough that he’s lost in sleep and won’t catch it. Your words cut through you, a blade sharp and merciless. You’ve always known you loved him—but you’ve never said it out loud. The knife twists deeper, making a painful, familiar home in your chest, right through your heart.

Your hand searches for Spencer’s beneath the sheets. The knife in your chest shifts with each breath.

Spencer’s right. You can’t pull it out, or you’ll bleed out.

So you decide you'll stay. In the silence, in the longing.

Because it doesn’t hurt as much if I don’t move, you think as you wrap your hand around his.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: j's lullaby (darlin i'd wait for you) by delaney bailey ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst

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fayes-fics · 2 months ago

Text

Lessons In Roleplay

Lessons Series Masterpost

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome)

Summary: The boys roleplay dastardly highwayman and rescuer.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, d/s dynamics, roleplay, CNC play, gunplay, slightly rough vaginal sex, dirty talk, cuckolding play, mention of breeding, oral sex (f to m), blow job, spitroast, orgasms, aftercare.

Word Count: 4.8k

Authors Note: This is a request fill for the amazing @colettebronte, asking for some roleplay in the Lessons universe. How could I say no to that? She chose which role the boys would play. Beta read by the amazing @sorryallonsy. Gif by @captainbucky-yt. The image is not particularly relevant to the story, but they both look delicious. Enjoy! <3

“Do you really think a highwayman might have seen us?” you query, your head resting on Anthony’s chest as he strokes your hair idly. “Yesterday, in the carriage,” you clarify as Benedict lifts his head from your belly and shoots you a querying eyebrow.

You are all lying together, entwined in post-coital bliss, under a large oak on their country estate on a beautiful summer day. The day after your eventful carriage ride here with them.

Anthony’s responding chuckle vibrates under you. “Tis possible, my sweet girl,” he opines lazily, using his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun cutting through the leaves above.

Your thoughtful mien has Benedict pushing up onto his hands and hovering over you, his hazy eyes observing you with a knowing quirk on his lips.

“I think our girl likes that idea,” he intuits, always correct in his ability to read you.

“I would prefer one of you be my robber, not a stranger,” you confess, smiling when they grab one of your hands each.

“If that is what the lady wishes….perhaps such a thing can be arranged,” Benedict opines silkily, lacing your fingers with his. “Can it not, brother?”

“What are you thinking?” Anthony hums, bringing your hand to his face.

“Perhaps the old phaeton in the stable can be put to good use?” Benedict suggests, lowering himself to kiss down your ribs. “I do not see why we could not steal away somewhere within the grounds and make our sweet girl's wish come true. One of us can play the dastardly highwayman lurking by the roadside as she rides by…” he trails off, getting distracted by the softness of your skin, dropping kisses onto your belly now.

“...And one of you could play my rescuer who draws up upon horseback?” you supply, a little breathless at the images already tumbling through your mind as their lips trace over your skin.

They both chuckle at that, Anthony dropping a kiss on your forehead and Benedict onto your hipbone.

“I am more than certain that could be arranged,” Anthony confirms, an admiring twinkle in his eye as you twist to look up at him. “This evening, in fact…”

“But which would you be, my lord?”

“What do you want of me, my girl? Do you want me to be the gallant hero?” he questions, his fingers tracing your cupid’s bow before sliding between your lips; his fingers still tart with your arousal as he presses upon your tongue. “Or the man who will hold you up? Whose demands you will need to submit to? To plead to spare your life?”

“The latter,” your reply muffled around his questing fingers, a frisson low in your belly that he may fuck you by the roadside in the dead of night.

“Then I shall ride in to rescue you,” Benedict affirms, his fingers flexing between yours as you now look down at him, his chin resting low upon your stomach.

“But not too soon…” you appeal with a wink, “and I think my rescuer should help me with my pleasure too, no?”

They both laugh knowingly at that.

“Your wish is my command….” Benedict offers, nudging this nose into your belly, which now fizzes with excitement about the night ahead.

—

You dress in a delicate cerulean blue silk gown that clings like liquid satin to your bare skin, foregoing any underwear, as is so often your preference when playing with your boys. Your outfit is topped off with sparkling sapphires and diamonds draped around your neck and wrists, no doubt priceless heirlooms from the vault Anthony holds on the property.

The hallway clock softly chimes midnight just as you steal out of the servant's entrance, meeting Benedict in the courtyard by the stables, already standing ready with a horse and a small, buggy-type carriage.

“You look beautiful,” he remarks, flattery just falling from him as ever. “I assume you know how to steer a phaeton?” he checks as you draw up to him, the moonlight throwing his face into handsome relief.

You nod, and he moves aside to assist you in climbing into the simple open-top carriage with an exchange of smiles.

“You remember where to go, correct?” His voice is soft as he hands you the reins.

“Down past the lake, take the left fork, follow the hedgerow until the thicket of trees,” you parrot the agreed directions from earlier. You can only assume Anthony is already lying in wait for you there.

Benedict nods, and then his demeanour changes, leaning in, a hand curling around your neck.

“Be careful out there, my sweet. Highwaymen may lurk,” he warns, slipping effortlessly into his heroic character.

“Perhaps a kiss for good luck upon my journey…. ?” you coquette, enjoying the way his pupils dilate.

He sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss that makes your heart pound and your body tingle, his tongue warm and insistent over yours.

“Good luck, my fair lady,” he exhales as you part, taking a step back to bow with a flourish.

You giggle and shake the reins to take off, elated your evening adventure has begun.

—

It is less than five minutes later when you arrive at a copse of trees, the bright new moon illuminating the fields around you as you slip under the shadows of the mighty oaks on either side of the track.

“STAND AND DELIVER!!”

A loud, clear voice rings out as you slow your horse to a stop, belly aflutter with anticipation. Emerging from behind a tree is a tall figure dressed in a black shirt and trousers, and as he draws nearer, you see a familiar, handsome face disguised behind a simple black mask.

Anthony.

You gasp as his leather-gloved hand draws a gun from his waistband and points it at you, blood running hot at his complete commitment to the roleplay.

“I have nothing to offer you, thief!”

Your protest is exaggerated but triumphant as his gaze falls to your decolletage, swelling with each exaggerated breath, your neckline scooped intentionally low.

“Get down at once, and perhaps I will spare your life, for I know you lie,” he counters, “those jewels around your neck, I wager, are worth more than my entire house….”

In your eagerness, you stumble slightly as you climb down from the carriage, and strong hands grasp your waist and right your stance on the ground.

“Unhand me, ruffian!”

Your theatrics are met with a flicker of tacit approval across his face.

“Not until those jewels are mine, fair lady!” highwayman Anthony contends, a predatory smile that has his teeth glowing in the low light, his firm grip upon you flexing.

“Please… I'm sure you are a reasonable man,” you change tack, still heaving breaths. “I simply cannot give you these jewels. They are too precious to me. They are a gift from my love.”

Framed by the mask, his dark eyes flash possessively, and there is a slip of softness in his expression as you say such words, knowing the truth behind them.

But then his tongue pokes out, licking his incisor almost menacingly. One of his hands bands behind your back, yanking you flush against his firm body.

“Do you really think you are in any position to negotiate, my fair lady?” he withers.

Your heart quickens as he places the cold barrel of the gun to your temple.

“It is not loaded,” he whispers, a warmth behind your ribs as he breaks character for a split second of reassurance before his expression is back to flinty.

“Please….” you implore.

He ignores you, crowding you backwards into the side of the carriage, the shiny lacquered wood of the wheel spokes digging into your spine. Once trapped, the hand around your waist moves to grasp your necklace, his leather glove cold on your breastbone.

“Take this off, or I will,” he orders; it’s a resonant threat that vibrates right into your body.

“Then you shall have to, for I will not!” you spit out, struggling against him for good measure, wanting nothing more than for him to rip the jewels from your body. And then your dress.

Just as promised, he is a little rough as he manhandles you, spinning you around so your breasts are pressed into the side of the phaeton, the unmistakable heat of his arousal on your tailbone as he leans into you.

He yanks off his gloves with his teeth and brushes your hair aside, unclasping the necklace and slowly tugging one end so it falls off behind you. A frisson runs the length of your spine as his bare fingers trail down slowly over both of your arms to your wrists and flick open the hinges on the bangles there, removing them too.

“These jewels are beautiful, my lady,” he concedes, pocketing them, “but I demand more…”

“Please, brute, you have taken all I can give you!”

“Oh, but that is not true…” he rumbles hotly into the nape of your neck.

You gasp as a hand cups between your legs through your thin dress.

“Your greatest treasure is the only one I cannot take with me….”

He ruts himself into you, intent unmistakable, as his fingers curl into the fabric. The softness of the silk over your already throbbing clit has you biting your lip.

“No, please, let me go…”

You amp up your performance, pushing back into him, looking over your shoulder with a fiery challenge that belies your words.

“I demand satisfaction!”

With that, he kicks your feet apart, rucking up your dress until you feel the cool night air swirling around your buttocks and between your legs. Then there is a pause as his hand travels up your naked flesh, a hungry noise escaping his lips as he buries his nose into your hair,

“Perhaps I misjudged…” he rasps, words huffing warm over your scalp. “No stockings. Nor underwear. You are far from a lady….”

“How dare you!”

You struggle again in his grip, loving the way his hold gets more insistent, moaning loudly as his fingers curl into your folds, already leaking profusely from the moment he emerged from the trees.

“Shut up,” he gruffs, dropping the gun into the carriage in front of you. “The more you struggle, the more I will take.”

This play already has you desperate for him, blood boiling with pure want as his fingers tease your clit.

“No, you beast, I shall not give in…”

Your objection sharpens his resolve, the wool of his trousers chafing the back of your thighs as he rapidly yanks open his britches one-handed.

Your cry echoes around the tree canopy as his rigid cock roughly ploughs into your pussy from behind, the force rocking you up onto your tiptoes. The sheer stretching invasion has you grabbing the carriage for leverage, wanting to voice your approval but too committed to the role you inhabit to allow yourself.

“Please, mister, no!”

You twist to meet his eye, silently begging for him to go fast and hard, take you mercilessly as you pretend this is not every wish you had for this night. Loving the feel of his fingertips curling around the crest of your hips, readying to take you hard.

And then he does—pulling out almost entirely, then ploughing back into you harshly. Immediately setting a nearly punishing rhythm, the dirt beneath your silk shoes crunching under your foot as you rock with his motions, you calling out loudly with each jolt.

“Quiet, or I will spank you,” he warns, his face wild, even obscured behind his mask.

That’s an open invitation you are not going to refuse.

“Stop!” you yell, goadingly.

There is a stinging slap across your buttock that has you lurching, your head lolling down, a huge, unseen smile claiming your lips, little sparks of fire radiating from the point of contact, a beeline right for your clit.

“No more!” you pant, staring at the ground and rocking back into his snapped thrusts, wrenching a moan from you with every move, his cock a delicious heavy weight cleaving you open, as it always is. You could never tire of this feeling, when he takes you so hard you can only cling on for dear life.

“All I heard is more, fair lady,” he laughs darkly and spanks again, your other cheek this time, a matching handprint you feel glowing.

You pitch forward and teeth the carriage as he fucks you. His moves are harsh, grunting with each thrust. You bite down, knowing the dental imprint you leave will be a great source of pride for him, a lasting memento of just how untamed he can make you.

“Tell me you want this!” He demands, grabbing your throat and yanking you backwards, your spine flush to his front, speared deep onto his cock as he stills.

“Never!”

His hand spanks you again so forcefully your eyes roll back. He withdraws slowly, then thrusts up so deep your toes leave the ground, him supporting all of your weight. It’s always so wonderful to feel like a rag doll in his arms when he is like this, speared open, utterly malleable to his onslaught.

Suddenly, movement catches the corner of your vision, and you look askance to see Benedict approaching, shirt billowing in the wind as he rides his galloping horse majestically across the moonlit field toward you. His horse whinnies as he dismounts in an athletic leap, bounding towards you.

“UNHAND HER AT ONCE!”

His voice is a bellow the likes of which you have never heard from his before. It makes you clench reflexively around his brother’s cock, and you wonder how much jealousy is behind the following line that Anthony sneers.

“It appears you have a rescuer, my lady. How entertaining. Who is he?” Anthony demands, spinning you around to face Benedict while still buried inside you.

“My husband,” you improvise provocatively, pushing back into Anthony.

It’s not something you had discussed with them for the roleplay, merely that Benedict would be your rescuer. But the look of unbridled desire that engulfs his face as you bestow him as such for this scene makes your lungs catch, his whole body puffing out with pride.

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Wife.”

Each word is its own sentence, his voice dripping with possession and intent, inhabiting outrage so perfectly.

“Too late,” Anthony snarls back. “I am already inside her, and she is thoroughly enjoying it. Her smart mouth may protest, but she is positively flooding over me.”

That triumphant verbal swipe makes you stutter. Evidently, Anthony has been taking notes from his poetic, dirty-talking younger brother, who stands before you now, a quake in his being that could be a husband’s rage, but you know to be pent-up desire—his gaze trained on your exposed lower half.

“Wrong…” Benedict growls, taking a large step forward, pressing into your front so you are sandwiched between them. Your very favourite place to be. “She may be drenched, but you are not the cause, merely the beneficiary.”

Benedict’s sizeable right hand curls into the hair at the nape of your neck as he stakes his claim on you with his words and deeds: drawing you into a plundering kiss, the outline of his cock growing harder, pressing hot into your belly, before he breaks away to continue speaking.

“She is my obedient little one,” he proclaims, cupping your jaw to make you stare up at him, even as Anthony’s cock rocks deeper into your pussy, challenging his claim. “As soon as she so much as scents me in her periphery, she is dripping down to her dainty ankles. And that is why she is mine. My wife.”

Benedict’s resonant cadence vibrates your chest and has you swaying, desperate for him as well. You feel Anthony twist a fraction to grab something from the carriage behind him, still rock hard inside you.

“Do you forget, Sir, who has the true weapon here? Anthony challenges.

The cold barrel of the gun is pressed to your temple again.

You mouth the words not loaded to Benedict, and he responds in kind, I know, before stepping back and holding his hands up in faux capitulation.

“Please,” Benedict changes tack, “take our jewels, but please do not harm my wife…”

You are enthralled by this—the planning they must have done together to execute this and how effortlessly they both inhabit their characters. A collaboration that speaks to their growing acceptance of each other as equals in this dynamic. Even though you can see the lines blurring as they goad each other within the roleplay, spectres of their past power dynamic, where Anthony would taunt Benedict with you, setting rules that always gave him the upper hand.

“I have already ruined her,” Anthony smirks, thrusting once for good measure and making you moan before stilling again. “But I shall offer you a deal…”

“Anything…” Benedict pleads, utterly convincing now as the distressed, cuckolded husband.

“You may watch me fuck her, plant my seed in her, and I will be happy to leave empty-handed.”

“Or…?” Benedict prompts, sensing an alternative.

“You may join me in taking her. I will not seed her, but I will depart with every single one of your jewels,” Anthony declares, nodding to Benedict’s ring on his little finger.

“Wife…. I shall let you choose.” Benedict's eyes scoot to you, still embodying his role, but his gaze pleading to let him in on the fun.

Silently, you hold out your hand to him, inviting him in. He takes it, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles briefly in reassurance.

“You have a deal, highwayman,” Benedict concedes to Anthony, pointedly removing his signet ring and handing it over your shoulder.

Anthony pulls out of you, making you whine at the loss, a droplet of wetness trickling down your thigh as he spins you around to face him.

“I think your wife should be naked, would you not agree?” Anthony posits, his fingers trailing your scooped neckline to the swell of your breast as he gives an order: “Undress her for me.”

Wordlessly, you feel Benedict plucking at the buttons over your spine. As they relent, he moves to tug the slackened fabric down off your torso, and the blue silk flutters to the ground, a shiver running over your skin as a cool breeze swirls around your naked body.

Anthony sucks in a breath, taking a half-step back, his eyes raking covetously over your naked skin.

“You permit your wife to parade in public without any undergarments?” he chides, his tone dripping with judgment.

“Permit her?” Benedict chuckles, bemused.

You inhale sharply as he wraps an arm around you, hauling you snugly backwards into his frame, his long fingers then spidering down your lower belly, right into your damp slit.

“I veritably insist upon it,” he gloats. “And she is more than keen…”

His teeth catch your earlobe as you whimper and writhe on his touch, little sparks of pleasure pinging around your body.

“Always so ready for me, are you not, my darling wife?”

You twist to meet his gaze as you nod obediently, and he rewards you with a crooked smile and a light pinch to your engorged clit that makes you cry out for him, punctuating his point. You yearn for him to take you roughly, needing this husband version he plays so well to claim you as his.

“You are a lucky man, betrothed to such an eager little vixen,” Anthony concedes, staring you down, provocatively wiping his lip with his thumb, hunger barely contained as he watches you ride his brother's fingers. “Perhaps she can lick clean the mess she made of me while you take your pleasure?” he adds casually.

“I will do it,” you volunteer brightly, almost preemptively, and far too enthusiastically for being held ‘hostage’.

“Come now, sweet girl, at least try to act as if you are mildly perturbed by our predicament…” Benedict deadpans genially, his fingers stilling as he breaks character, and Anthony chuckles, looking equally entertained by your outburst.

“Sorry…” you whisper over a giggle, and it earns you a quick kiss on the cheek from both of them, their eyes glittering with amusement. “Please continue…”

Benedict slides his fingers out from between your legs, you whining from the loss. But you soon quieten as you realise he is unbuttoning his trousers, knuckles brushing your bottom as he peels them open just enough to free himself, veritably pulsing for the promise of his cock too.

“Bend over and suckle him, wife,” he orders, back in his role, knowing how much you adore detailed filthy instruction from him.

“Yes, husband,” you demure, lowering yourself as requested, widening your stance as you do so—a blatant invitation for him to take you.

“What an excellent, obedient thing,” Anthony observes, his hand gliding into your hair as you peel his trousers open further, pressing your face into his crotch before sucking his tip between your lips, glazed with your arousal.

“She’s a wonder,” Benedict concurs.

Anthony’s fingers flex on your scalp, and his thumb rounds your jaw to pull down your chin, opening you wider. He thrusts into your mouth; your hands cling to his muscular thighs as his tip nudges the roof of your mouth, tongue pressed into his underside.

He groans loudly, your tastebuds flooded with your tart juices and a bead of his salty precum. He withdraws then drives back in, nudging deeper this time, knowing it always makes you mindless, his grip solid on your head as he starts to fuck into your mouth. It has you squirming with supplicant need, begging Benedict silently for his cock, too, as he teases your slit, grinding his head over your clit.

Your call is entirely muffled around Anthony as Benedict finally takes pity on you, thrusting deep into your pussy, in one rapid, forceful move. Both ends of your body are utterly invaded, one of your favourite places to be, a carnal loop of pleasure that only they can provide. Anthony’s hands are heavy on your scalp as Benedict's grasp your hips almost punishingly tight—something so thrilling about you being bent over entirely naked between their clothed bodies. They work together to ensure maximum pleasure for you, intuiting your needs, Anthony withdrawing just as you need to draw breath but always keeping you singing with need, his cock something to muffle your noises, to suckle upon as they both drive you higher.

You sag into their hold, relying on them to keep you balanced, pliant to the push and pull of your being between these men as they use you just as you want them to. Entirely possessed by them, played expertly by both as if an instrument for all of your mutual pleasure. Always intuiting your needs, Benedict reaches down, pulling your arms backwards flush with the sides of your body, twining his fingers in yours, a possessive hold that means you have no purchase to prevent Anthony’s thrusts into your mouth.

Benedict’s pace builds slowly, his cock grinding all those places deep inside only they can reach. His thrusts that cleave you open timed perfectly, his fingers curled over the pulse point on your wrist, syncopating his movements with each beat of your heart.

Anthony groans, causing his cock to vibrate as it passes through the tight ring of your lips. The tingle has you moaning too, a call and response that notches things higher.

“I will not last,” Anthony grits out, teeth clenched, his fingernails digging into your scalp, his thrusts into your mouth urgent now, barely allowing you any reprieve.

“Do as you will…” Benedict grunts, his noises guttural as you clench around him, a vice that has him dropping your wrists, sensing how close you are, too. One of his hands grabs your hip roughly as the other ploughs into your slit, catching your swollen, throbbing clit.

He changes angle to spear deeper, harsher, and you scream around Anthony’s cock, which fills your mouth now, breathing harshly through your nose as he uses you mercilessly.

“Look at me,” Anthony commands, grabbing your head to tilt your face upwards, his cock tip grinding the roof of your mouth, your hands again on his wool trousers for leverage as you stare wide-eyed up at his handsome face, angular and determined.

“So fucking beautiful,” he croaks, his thumb rounding to blot the tear forming in the corner of your eye from not wanting to blink.

“Better and more priceless than any jewel,” Benedict taunts, still impressively embodying his role, each word heaved over a breath, “and all mine.”

The possession with which he growls that last word, plunging harder than he ever has, is the catalyst for all of you. The vibration of your scream around Anthony’s cock as Benedict glances at your hilt is what tips him over. A heavy pulse travels up the length of his cock, and his fingernails cirls into your scalp as he comes, a salty rope splashing into your throat that you swallow reflexively as Benedict's fingers and cock send you over the edge, your vision whiting out, as your whole body convulses, strong hands bandying around you to hold you upright as your knees almost give out, everything in your snapping taut as you come so hard you swear stars dance before your eyes. With an almost howl, Benedict roughly pulls out of your convulsing pussy, a warmth splashing over your lumbar spine as you all pant loudly.

Before you are fully cognisant, strong arms pull you into an embrace. You recover, caged by Benedict, his chest warm against your spine as he murmurs sweet words in your ear. In front of you, Anthony refastens his trousers, pulling the gems from his coat pocket, still impressively in character.

“I shall greatly enjoy the spoils of this evening,” he taunts, holding them up so they sparkle in the moonlight. “But, if you should ever wish to share your wife again, you know where to find me…”

“How do you know I will not tell others of your location? Force you to move your despicable, criminal activities elsewhere?” Benedict counters as you drowsily enjoy their little theatrical, continuing purely for your amusement.

“Because of the way your wife is looking at me…” Anthony crows, stepping forward again to run a finger over your chin and swollen, darkened lips as he repockets the loot. “As if she wishes to ride away with me as much as she wishes to remain with you.”

He draws you in for a fierce, possessive kiss, you gasping heavily, pliant under his invasion, still dazed from your orgasm.

“Perhaps one day, if you are a good little thing for me, you could even earn your jewels back…” Anthony contends. “Until then, I bid you adieu…” he signs off, bowing, then turning heel and disappearing into the night.

—

A few minutes later, Anthony saunters back from bridling the additional horse onto the phaeton. Himself again, the roleplay scene over.

“Our poor girl cannot wear this; 'tis too caked in dirt and mud now,” he rues, no trace of the menacing highwayman to be found in his tone as he scoops your trampled dress up from the dirt track.

“We will just have to keep her warm for the ride back, brother,” Benedict advocates.

Anthony hums in agreement, chivalrously whipping off his shirt and helping you into it with affectionate kisses. After a quiet spell in their joint embrace - always your favourite place to recover from such vigorous adventures - they both tenderly assist you up into the carriage, arranging you snugly between them upon the simple bench seat. Both wrap their free arm around you as they grab a horse rein each. You burrow into their comforting presence as the carriage trundles away at a leisurely pace.

“Did you enjoy our roleplay, my girl?” Anthony checks, tone laden with affection, as Benedict turns to kiss your forehead tenderly.

“Yes, you were both so wonderful, exactly as I had hoped and more. Thank you,” you sigh contentedly, nuzzling into them both in turn.

“I cannot wait to hear of your other fantasies, sweet girl. I assume you have many more,” Benedict guesses, accurate as always.

“I am rather taken by the idea of adventure on the high seas with two swashbuckling buccaneers…” you confess, even as you have to stifle a yawn, the sway of the carriage and their warmth soporific.

“Well, after you have had some good rest, my darling girl, perhaps I will seek out our grandfather’s cutlass…” Anthony offers as he laughs genially.

You perk up, and your head pings between them. “Is that a promise?”

“Most definitely,” they answer in unison, two pairs of amused, sparkling eyes meeting yours as the beauty of Aubrey Hall hones into view in your periphery.

You cannot wait.

Anthony & Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

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eee-lordy · 11 months ago

Text

Practice Makes Perfect

!!! nsfw minors dni !!!

Jacob offers to help fem!reader get her first time over with. 6k

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Ready for your big move?" Jacob huffed, dropping a particularly heavy box onto the top of another. He'd come over to help you start packing up, you had a week left.

"Mostly, yeah I think so." You grinned, knowing he was talking more about emotionally than materialistically. Your eyes scanned the bare bones of your first apartment. It had been a welcoming and safe space for a handful of years now, but the time had come to move onto bigger and better things.

"Let's drink to the beginning of the end, then, shall we?" Your dearest pal declared, toting over glasses and liquor from your fridge.

"Don't say it like that, nothings ending here." You warn, sick at the thought of there being a time limit on your friendship once a little space got in the way. Jacob sat next to you on the sofa, pouring you each a drink.

"Okay sorry, we'll toast to now, then. May we enjoy every moment." Jacob's sincerity past the silly tone he used warmed your confounded heart. So many feelings had plagued you since finding out about your big move. How excited you were for the fresh start, and how you were, in fact, dreading leaving behind everything you loved so dearly, everyone.

As you sat and drank, it was all Jacob could talk about. He asked you all kinds of questions. What the place was like you were headed to, how you may come to decorate the home you were set to buy. How you may plan to spend your time. You fawned over descriptions of some new furniture you'd had shipped to your new place. And excitedly quipped about the plans you were making for the distant future.

"I hope to just go wild. Create a whole new thing for myself, ya know? Try everything, live to the fullest." The realizations that you could become whoever you wanted most to be in an all new place had your imagination running wild since theses plans became solid.

"And what are you most nervous about?" Jacob countered, squinting as if he knew this question was one that might really challenge you.

"Oh... I don't know." You feigned a laugh, hoping your face hadn't flushed red. Because you had been increasingly nervous about one thing, fretting over the many outcomes your imagination brought to life every time you wondered how to take on this certain situation...

"Ohhhh no." Jacob grinned wickedly, shifting in his seat to face you a little more head on, pointing his half full beer in your direction. "There is something, I know when you aren't telling me things, you know?"

"Jacob, can we please drop this?" You plead, feeling like sinking in on yourself for letting your facade drop for even a second.

"All I'm saying is, if you're this nervous about something, maybe I can help?"

"I highly doubt you can help with this one, dude." You let out a mortified giggle, feeling your blush coming back tenfold.

"Hey." Jacob lowered his tone, cocking his head to catch your eye. His were serious. "You know you can tell me whatever it is-"

"Is embarrassing-"

"And I won't judge you. You know that." And you did know. Jacob had told you his own mortifying confessions, from the time he'd lost his clothes in a sketchy overnight gym, to the salacious dreams he'd had about certain unattractive costar way back before you knew him. As you reminded yourself of the story Jacob once told you of his mishap with a zipper during the first night he spent in the bed of a lady, you realized you could tell him what was on your mind.

"Okay fine." You gritted through your teeth, clasping your hands together only to anxiously wring them. Jacob stayed quiet and awaited your words.

"I'm most nervous about having sex." You declared. "Because I'm more than ready to get out there and do it, but the thought of sleeping with some stranger is appalling, and I don't know who I trust enough to ask to see me through that awfully awkward first time. And what if I never meet someone I trust enough, just-" With a disgruntled sigh, you realized you were rambling.

"You're a virgin?" Jacob's mouth twisted into a confounded frown as his head turned much like a baffled puppy dog. Your friends studying of you made you want to slip into nonexistence.

"So what?" You huffed a nervous laugh, daring to meet Jacob's piercing eyes for the first time since revealing your secret.

"It's just I thought you'd have done it, like... a lot." He shrugged. "Being so smokin' hot, and all."

"I am not hot, Elordi, and despite really being ready, I'm way too nervous to do it. That's the whole issue here." You scoffed, taking a frustrated swig of your drink.

"Uh, yeah you are. And what is there to be nervous about, anyway?" He quizzed.

"What if I do the wrong thing or say something weird or just make a complete fool of myself? Or what if I hate it? I'm ready for it. But I really am scared I will never meet the right person to deal with how in my head I am about this..."

Jacob let his gaze fall to the floor, seeming to puzzle over your words. A considerable amount of silence settled about the room before either of you spoke again. He was the one to break that silence.

"Do you... trust me?"

Your eyes widened and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

"I mean, you know I think you're attractive. So, I won't care or even notice if you make a complete fool of yourself. And we know all each other's secrets. That's trust. And if you hate it, we stop. I'm kind of the perfect candidate her, love." His confidence had blossomed with the help of the drinks you two had shared tonight. Jacob spoke with assuredness, letting no signs of awkwardness show in his daring offer. The whole thing had your head spinning.

"Jacob."

"All I'm saying is... if you want, I'm down. If not, I get it." He took a swig, the last of his third glass. "I'm just saying..." Jacob let his sharp dark eyes rake across your figure as you sat in place, trying not to squirm. You considered the expression in his gaze, clearly drinking you in, yet keeping a respectable distance.

"I'll... think about it." And you really would.

He nodded. You nodded. He got up and turned on a movie. You went searching for more to drink. As some rather boring action flick unfolded on your telly, your mind raced. You did trust Jacob. You did find him attractive too. With his angelic features and fit figure. And you wouldn't mind if this little... experiment led to something a little more serious either. But that was a wild far off distant dream. And still, all the things that mortified you about doing it with a stranger made you just as nervous to consider in the company of one of your closest friends.

"It would just be, like, educational right? Just... one friend helping out another?" You pipped up in the middle of the action movies climax.

"It would be whatever you needed or wanted it to be, doll. I'm offering my sincerest assistance." Jacob spoke easily, keeping his apparent focus on the telly screen, settled an inch away from where you sat on the sofa.

You hummed in understanding, acknowledging how both of you kept your eyes glued to the movie on your screen, and that seemed soothing. There didn't seem to be any pressure, there didn't seem to be any stakes. And as you considered your nerves, you wondered if the feeling was more that of anxious wonder. And then you realized there was a way to test this theory...

"Kiss me. Then I'll know." You thought out loud.

"Know what?"

"If you're a shitty kisser or not. And if I'd even dream of letting you sleep with me." You were drunk enough to speak without consideration. You were curious enough to take Jacob up halfway on his offer. You really hoped he wasn't a shitty kisser. You may have let him have his way with you even if he was.

With a decided shrug Jacob leaned in. His lips were soft, the gentle way he pressed his against yours was more than comfortable. You let yourself relax into pressing your own kiss back, and he took that as a signal to deepen his display of affection. And the kiss that began as a seemingly casual interaction took a different form. Jacob let his lips slowly open, encouraging yours to do the same. As your kissing grew longer and deeper, your very dear friend let his fingers reach to brush your hair back; then let his digits press against the base of your neck to pull your lips ever closer.

The gentle forcefulness Jacob commanded brought a contented sigh from your throat, and your friend's smile in response broke your interaction.

"I'll take that as a yes?" He smirked, eyes focusing on yours close up.

"It's just... a lot to consider."

He had kept his hold on you. His hand clutching the back of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hair.

"Listen. I won't push this on you. It's no sweat if you decide against it. But I really would be very patience and more than glad to help you out here. That's the last I'll speak of it. Now, what are we watching next?"

You spent the rest of that evening next to Jacob in mutual silence. You watched films until your friend grew tired and called it a night. All the while your mind raced from one scenario to the next. Wondering what the worst could turn out to be, if you said yes, or no.

///

Jacob stopped by one night later, saying he was simply in the neighborhood and wondered if you'd needed any kind of help continuing to pack up. So, you put him to work, cleaning out drawers and folding clothes into suitcases. You talked a lot while working, about eachothers lives and dreams and silly things. But the conversation kept leading back to the topic of your move.

"I'll be hours away from all my family and it's not like I won't see them but I'll be so alone you know?" You confessed your fears for living in solitude and worrying over worst case scenarios.

"Hey, you'll make it just fine. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jacob insisted, moving about your room from one task to another. "Plus, I'm only one phone call away."

"I know." You whispered, peering up to your friend through your lashes, biting back a frown. You set a roll of tape and a box cutter on a nearby shelf, done with the tools for now.

"This is supposed to be a good thing, a happy thing." Jacob reminded you, shuffling to stand before you. He reached out to tilt your chin upward as if that would encourage a smile from you.

"I know." You whispered again. And with no way of knowing who leaned in first, all you knew was Jacob was kissing you again. And you relished the comfort of his affection. Nothing stopped you now from slinking a lazy arm around his neck as the guy let his grasp splay across your back.

Jacob was the first to break away, like before. But unlike then, he said nothing now. Jacob just leaned back far enough to catch your eye, as one of his brows lifted in a silent question.

"I think I might want to take you up on your offer..." You seemed to realize out loud. Maybe you had always wanted it to be him. Or maybe his encouragement had done the trick of talking you into feeling this way now. But you were never surer about being intimate with someone than now, with the way your dearest friend held you in his arms.

"Yeah?" He nodded with a furrow in his brow.

"Yes, I- if you're really sure." You stuttered.

"I am if you are." Jacob continued to nod. And after a beat, when he asked "Like, now? Right now?" You moved to nod along with him, even though your heart threatened to leap from your chest.

"Okay." He whispered. "You just need to tell me if it gets all too much, no matter what. Promise me you will."

"Yeah. I'm, like, really nervous. That's the big problem. But I trust you, so I am very sure."

"Well, I can certainly help with that." Jacob brought a hand to your hair, "I think." He lightly chuckled, pulling a face, setting your nerves at ease already.

"We'll just go very slow. How does that sound?" He asked, still keeping a hand rested on the side of your head, while his other crept down to the bend of your waist. You let out a held breath and nod assuredly.

"Okay." You flickered a smile. Jacob nodded too, his lithe grin remaining as he searched your face, his eyes landing on your lips. You hadn't fully expected him to agree to this, and you hadn't at all expected things to start right off the bat. But you couldn't complain when Jacob closed the gap and pressed a gently feather light kiss to your lips. As he did so, he tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear, and ever so slightly tightened his grip at the bend of your waist.

This resulted in your hands finding his shoulders, resting them between there and his chest- where you wondered if you were feeling your own rapid heartbeat in your palms, or his.

His lips left yours for a moment, but another feather light kiss came soon after. A couple more small steady pecks made you comfortable enough to fully relax in the hold Jacob was beginning to wrap around you; his hand moving to hold the back of your head, his other moving from the bend of your waist so his arm circled around you.

When your arms slid into a loose hold around the guy's neck again, his kisses started to ever so slightly deepen. His tongue teased your lips, his thumb caressed soothing circles against your rib cage, a delightful hum escaped his throat.

"This okay so far?" Jacob wondered in a hushed rumble, meeting your eyes between kisses. You nodded and softly smiled, waiting for the guy to continue. When he dove back in, his kisses deepened even further, his tongue pressed against yours, his hold tightening, pulling you almost entirely against himself. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, just kissing and letting hands roam against backs and through hair.

He'd barely done as much as hold you close, but you were already feeling the hot coil of desire burning low in your belly, and it was starting to spread every place else. Your every nerve was already on end.

"I could gladly do this all night." Jacob hummed, moving his kisses to pepper your jaw, and then down your neck. "But would you like to go any further? You tell me, doll."

"Sure, we can go further. I just need you to guide me through." You blew out another shaky breath, trying to release the jitters.

"I can do that. Just remember you can tell me to stop anytime for any reason." Jacob kissed your forehead and waited for you to nod in agreement. He kissed your cheek and then your lips, and let his hands begin to roam new territory. his fingers grazed under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your hips, skin that had never been touched by anyone but yourself until now. It was starting.

"Can I take this off, doll? I'll take mine off too. We'll be on the same page." Jacob sighed into your mouth, and couldn't resist kissing you between words. He left one set of fingers creeping under your shirt while the other gently tugged at the garment.

"I like that idea." You smiled, his lips brushing against yours in a phantom kiss.

He opted for his first, shedding his tee in a lazy fashion, revealing a sight you had seen before, his bare chest. But now was different from the hot summer days you'd been near the guy in such a state. Now you were free to oggel his frame entirely.

Jacob watched you watching him as he delicately took hold of the base if your shirt, and pulled it up. You lifted your arms instinctively and tried not to shiver in an anxious display of vulnerability.

The man you'd come to trust tossed aside your favorite old concert tee and brought both his hands to the bare skin of your waist. He'd see you in swimsuits and crop tops but he'd never been so close. Never had his hot skin been so easily accessible under your touch. Never had he caressed you in such a state. The pair of you stood there, holding each other in a delicate morphing clasp, for a brief moment. Your breathing synchronized before Jacob nuzzled against your neck and mumble something about how beautiful he thought you looked, and how lovely he thought it was to hold you so close like this. It was almost too sweet, his musings and the gentle way he held you. But the pecks he placed against your neck turned into something fiercer, his teeth grazing, his breathing audible. All the while, his caresses turned too, his fingers pressed possessive against your skin, one hand moving to bring your hips as close to his as possible.

You let it happen, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades and letting out a delighted sigh. You knew this was supposed to be a fun positive experience. But you felt quite unprepared for how much you were enjoying yourself.

Jacob planted another sloppy kiss to your lips, encouraging you to match his energy.

He began to drag you a few steps in another direction, never daring to break away from the kiss you were sharing, until he had to. Jacob eased onto the side of your bed, gently pulling you into his lap. He maneuvered you into a straddle you were happy to settle into, leaving no space between the two of you, as your kisses continued.

"This all okay, doll?" Jacob hoped, as his warm hand made its way toward your breasts, still covered.

"Yes Jacob," you breathed, taking your turn in moving kisses down the man's neck, not totally sure of your execution but lead by passion what could go so wrong, you wondered?

To your delight, Jacob practically melted under your bites and licks, and you were beginning to melt a little yourself, as he kneaded at your bra.

"You can take it off. If you want." You sighed, keeping up your work at his neck, moving from one side to the other.

"Oh, I've wanted to for a longer than you know." He let out a little laugh after his confession.

You sat up to meet his gaze, asking a question with one look.

"You know I've always thought you were beautiful. But I have always wondered just how much more beautiful under all your clothes." Jacob mewled, unclasping your bra after two tries. You let the thing fall away and slide down one arm to the floor, as Jacob ogled you shamelessly. Somehow the moment didn't cause you nearly as much nervousness as you'd anticipated. The way Jacob was handling this new interaction, the way he'd been handling you; caused your nerves that kept arising the settle, provoking much more excitement than you knew you were capable of feeling in a time like now.

"Even more beautiful than my imagination has been able to conceive." Jacob grinned up to you before rolling his eyes closed on his mission to cover you in kisses.

You couldn't hold back your sigh, one you'd never heard yourself make. A noise you didn't know you were capable of producing. Jacob's lips closed around one of your nipples while he let his hand attend to the other. You could feel his pants tightening beneath you, and his messy hair tangled in your fingers as you grasped at something to ground you. Things were moving at a steady pace yet seemed to be rocketing into progression much quicker than you were prepared for.

"Jacob." You reluctantly halted him, grabbing his attention away from making you feel so good. "Jacob, I don't want to stop, but can we slow down a little?" You asked in a shaky breath, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, like you'd just run a mile.

"Of course." He promised, planting closed mouth kisses across your collarbone. "Come'er."

Jacob pushed you from his lap to the middle of the bed and adjusted himself behind you, as you took in a couple deep breaths. Then his hands found your shoulders, and began to massage the tense muscle there.

"Are you still nervous? More or less? What can I do to help?"

"Still nervous. But you've been very patient so far and I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. Thank you, Jacob."

"You're practically a natural," Jacob purred in your ear, keeping up his work on your shoulders. You began to feel more at ease under his touch, and more ecstatic by his words and the tone of his voice. "Nothing to be nervous about."

Your hum gave him a green light to follow his hands with his lips, kissing the trail of his massaging.

He soon let his hands start to wander, keeping his face in the crook of your neck as his hands trailed lightly across your chest and tummy, stalling for a brief second at the hem of your pants before ghosting back up to brush at your already exposed skin.

You flipped around crawling into a position closer, moving to undo the button of his pants.

"You sure?" Jacob asked quickly, waiting for you to nod before shedding the trousers as lazily as he removed his shirt.

"Want me to do yours?" He asked, not wondering if you'd rather handle the task, but if you were ready for the next step to be initiated at all. You told him you were ready, looking right in the guy's hooded deep brown eyes.

Jacob gently pushed you against the stack of pillows at the head of your bed. For one small moment, you paused to look at each other and smile. And then your friend shifted and reached for the button of your trousers. You watched as he hooked a couple fingers in the hem to peel the fabric away from your body, his eyes drinking in every newly exposed inch of you. You helped kicked away the pants, as Jacob reached to pull you back into his lap. In one swift move, you pushed him back into the pillows. You relished having the boy pinned below you, as you closed in for another kiss.

His hands traced across the expanses of your skin, his warm form settled beneath yours in the very best ways. You began to let your fingers trace patterns across his chest, feeling the hammer of his heart. Now both clad in nothing but underwear, the thin fabric allowed for you to feel more exactly of how worked up you'd gotten the boy.

You weren't nervous now to roll your hips against his. Or even if you might've been, they seemed to move on their own accord, your body seeking to satisfy its growing desires. Your rocking against the man's lap grew quietly more confident, and in the matter of a couple grinds you had Jacob whimpering against your lips.

Jacob gently pushed you from his lap, moving to hover over you in turn. "Okay?" He asked more succinctly but paused and watched for your confirmation just as patiently as every time before. And right as you began to nod, Jacob pressed his clothed hips against yours, encouraging your legs to open a little wider to make space for him. He kept his eyes sharply focused on yours, as he kept grinding, palming at your breast all the while. You were overcome, the coil in your belly tightening, and you hadn't even gotten to the good part.

His hand that had been working at your breast traveled downward, stalling near the hem of your underwear. Just as Jacob opened his mouth to ask if his next move was allowed, you were quicker. You grabbed his forearm and gently pushed his hand past the fabric of your undergarment, immediately glad for it.

His fingers found their way gently to your heat, giving subtle barely there caresses to the part of you that was most sensitive. Your toes curled and your heart stalled as he touched you with such tender intention. The pair of you managed to settle side by side, and without discussion, you reached to move Jacobs fingers to the spot he'd been nearly close to finding. The feeling that followed sent sparks through your nervous system, and your own hand shot out toward Jacob's underwear in response. You didn't ask, you simply slid your digits up and down the clothed length of your friend's crotch, relishing the shuttered breaths he released as you did so. The pair of you kept this up for a short moment, kissing when you weren't stealing each others breath away.

"Can we get to the part where you fuck me?" You sighed, worried that if you didn't do so soon, in the midst of your highest confidence, you'd lose the nerve. Jacob let out a quiet chuckle as he nodded, moving to shed the last of both of your clothes. Gentle as ever, he took as much time with this process as ever, making you more at ease and anxious for the next step all the same.

"Are you sure?" Jacob worried, settling between your legs. You kept one hand against his face and the other set of your fingers grasping his shoulder. You nodded quickly between shaky breaths, your nerves heightening slightly at the realization this was happening. But then Jacob shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until you relax, doll."

You were fully aware of your uneven breathing and the tensing of your body, due to the anxiousness that threatened to swallow you whole. You wanted this, you really did. But that didn't stop your nervous system from going a bit haywire during such an unprecedented situation.

"Relax." Jacob repeated. He petted your hair back and smoothed a hand across your shoulder, attempting to ease the tension you held there. You tried your best to settle a bit more comfortably against the sheets as the guy spoke up again. "Take like four deep breaths, and relax." Jacob guided you through his desired number of focused inhales, taking them in just as deeply himself. You closed your eyes during the last couple and felt yourself truly a little more at ease by way of Jacob's help and kind focus. You watched the guy breath out same as you, the fourth time, and after a beat he gave you a subtle nod.

"Good, that's better. Now, are you super sure?" He prompted, letting his hands hold you firmly against him, not daring to move until you gave your full, more at ease, confirmation. When you said yes with a smile, Jacob smiled too, and proceeded to line his hips up with yours.

As he pressed into you slow and steady, he cooed in your ear. Mumbling pet names and sweet encouragements about how good you'd already made him feel. Between his saccharine words and the pressure between your legs, you were done for.

Your breathing quickened all too soon but wasn't as shaky and uneven as before. Your skin burned with want. Your legs spread far as they could. He placed a loving hand against your temple, and you gripped his wrist as he began to move his hips in a sinfully slow manner.

The press of his lips to your throat was made more intimate by the grazing of his teeth there too. The speed at which he rocked into you began to increase, your heart rate following suit. everything felt better than you could've even fathomed. You were glad you did this with someone you knew and trusted. Someone whose hands were familiar to at least some parts of your own body and whose voice was welcomed in your ear. So glad you were doing this with someone you'd let do it all over again. So glad you're doing this with Jacob.

"You're doing so good, so good, nothing to be nervous about." The last word of his sentence was abruptly cut off by a growl the man couldn't seem to hold back.

Jacob was relentless now, pulling your hips against his as he rocked so hard against you, the bed frame kept hitting the wall. You couldn't imagine feeling much better than this, but then he asked if you were close to reaching your breaking point. You realized you'd never known before, and you really weren't sure now. "I don't know." You admitted with a twinge of worry. "It feels so good, Jacob, but I-I don't know." A sigh escaped your lips as he hit a certain spot within you. He grumbled encouragement in your ear, saying it was okay that you didn't know, and kept up his efforts.

"But I can't hold back much longer, I'm sorry." Jacob cried, his movements becoming sloppy, still heavenly though. It was your turn to encourage him, and let him know it was okay to come undone. Jacob was a goner soon after your brief pep talk, pulling himself from you as his seed spilled across your stomach. As Jacob caught his breath, he promised to go hunting for a towel to clean you up as you propped yourself on your elbows.

"Is it disappointing that I didn't come?" You worried, sitting up a little, catching your own breath. Jacob smirked, and petted back your hair, settling a little closer to you.

"I'm just glad you didn't fake it. Sometimes it just takes practice to know how to make it happen... to find out what you like, ya know?"

"Yeah, I s'pose." You contemplated, a bit cross that it hadn't happened, because it was half the reason you were eager to get this first time sorted out, so you could know how to handle yourself. Jacob had spotted a towel a few steps from your bedside, and was quick to retrieve it. And as he sweetly took to cleaning up the mess he'd made about you, he spoke up.

"You know, I never said our little educational experiment was over..." Jacob was smug, but turned up a brow to nod seriously your way and in a moment that made your cheeks flush even still after everything that had just occurred.

"Would... would you?"

Jacob said nothing. He simply dove back in to kiss you again, with more passion than ever, you thought. The man pressed you to lean against the pillows once again, as his fingers danced lower and lower down your abdomen.

"You seemed to like when I did this." Jacob cooed, letting his fingers ghost over your heat for the second time that evening, grazing a certain spot you'd once helped him find. You sucked in a breath at the feeling, giving Jacob the green light to proceed with more vigor. He pressed his fingers against you with more certainty, swirling more meaningful circles in that one spot. Jacob watched as you bit your lips together, struggling to keep an undignified moan from bursting from your chest.

"Think I must be doing something right." You friend boasted, keeping up the motions he'd settled into perfectly making. All the while, he moved to kiss you. His mouth, you were certain, must've left marks peppered across you skin as his lips moved from your neck to your throat, to your breasts and down further and further and further.

Once his lips ghosted across your core, you knew you were done for. The man let his tongue replace his fingers, as his digits moved to slide inside of you. His hair tickled your thighs, and every sensation added up together was nearly too much to process.

You thought Jacob's hands were magical, his lips and tongue were mind blowing. His warm breath, his teeth grazing, it was all more intense than you'd though it could've been. Your back arched, your hips rolled, and Jacob shouldered closer, putting as much vigor into this process as he could manage. Now, you suddenly seemed to understand the answer to his previous statement. You were close, now. You had to be. Your every sense buzzed and all you felt was increasing ecstasy.

You couldn't begin to hold back your cries of pleasure now, as Jacob worked you into a frenzy. He kept up his efforts until your legs shook, and only when you nudged his head gently away from it's latch onto your lower half, did he cease.

"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I know the answer." Jacob grinned, crawling to lay at your side. You laid in a daze, wondering how someone could've gotten that reaction from you. Of course it was Jacob who had.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and for no good reason at all, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Exhausted giggles, that died down when a cough alerted you to how dry your throat had become from all the harsh breathing you'd done.

Jacob insisted on taking care of you, finding water for the pair of you to drink and escorting you to the shower. You pulled him in with you, and talked about silly things as you washed up, comfortable as before in your friendship.

"Hey, thank you. I really was so scared to go through all that. But you made it easy. You made it fun." You confessed, as Jacob wrapped a towel around your frame. He ran his hands up and down your arms, warming you from the chill of the room.

"Thank you for trusting me. You'll never know how much of an honour it was, really." Jacob nodded sincerely, before pulling you into an embrace. He went home shortly afterward, promising to see you soon, and joking that he'd more than happily help you practice again, anytime. You laughed along with him, and secretly hopped he wasn't joking.

///

After he left, sleeping with Jacob constantly played back in your mind. The phantom feeling of his body lingered about your skin. You thought of little else than your dear friend, as you moved through the motions of the next day. So, to remedy your fever for the lad, you called him and asked about meeting up for dinner. He responded quickly insisting he'd love to, and that he would swing by your place a little later on. Time dragged on as you counted the minutes until he arrived.

When the knock came at your door, you opened it with perhaps too much excitement. Neither of you said anything, and a brief moment of silence filled the space between you.

"It's still a little early for dinner." You schemed. Jacob quirked a brow, stepping in as you stepped back to make room for him. He shut the door behind himself, as you crossed your fingers behind your back... "Maybe... to kill time, we could do what we did the other night?" You hoped, casting a hopeful glare up to the man before you. And before you even finished your sentence, he reached out to pull you closer, crashing his lips against yours once you'd finished talking.

It wasn't long until he had you lifted from the ground in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso as he moved to throw you on the sofa.

"You do have a lot still to learn." Jacob smirked, untying the joggers that hugged your hips.

"But we are eating later." You demanded, craving a certain local restaurant.

"Well, I'm not waiting till later." Jacob growled, smiling as he lowered himself between your legs right away. The night spiraled into a mess of moans that were familiar to you now. When the pair of you were spent, you cleaned up and went to dinner, and then parted your separate ways.

After that night, there were four days until you were set to move away. And Jacob showed up at your door every evening with a different excuse each time.

He'd wanted to see the newest horror film in the local theater. You left halfway through to fuck in your car. Jacob mentioned that practice made perfect, and he was more than happy to help you hone this craft. You'd wanted to throw a party with all your friends before summer sent you each different way's. A whole soiree was planned in which you and Jacob skipped out early on; because the broom closet you'd snuck into wasn't giving either of you enough space to work with, and you'd both concluded this may be the last chance you got to really participate in your new found hobby.

But the next day, he found his way over all the while. And neither of you had to ask. It was only a matter of time before he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, and you'd never been happier. Just as you began reaching your climax, Jacob spoke up between sighs, "I don't want you to leave."

"Then come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me." You manage to get out the words before losing all composure. He followed close behind. But you both knew finding release together wasn't what you meant when you asked him to come along.

As you both caught your breath, Jacob brushed your hair back, and let his eyes consider all of your features. As he took too long to respond, you decided to draw a bath, and invited him to settle among the bubbles with you, where you brought up your question one more time.

"We've had lot's of practice, you know." You settled across from the man you'd come to know better than you ever expected. "Maybe we can go pro. Make it official?" You watched Jacob watch you, as you spoke.

"Was this your plan the whole time? You're twisted way of getting me to fall for you?"

"No, I genuinely just wanted your help that one night. Then it turned into many many nights. And now I don't want to ever have to worry about practicing with anyone but you."

And so after a few more rounds of questions of answers, it was decided. Jacob would follow you to a new town to live a new life. But with your oldest friend at your side and under shared sheets, you weren't so nervous about all the new things you would get to encounter, together.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi smut

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therandompagesblog · 2 months ago

Text

SKZ Mate Chapter 21

Trigger Warnings: Smut, orgasm, cunnilingus, oral play, reader squirts, threesome, trichophilia, salirophilia

"You are such an annoying shit!" Y/N growled as she smacked the wolf with the towel. "Did you have to call him out?" "Hey. Hey. Stop. Omega." Seungmin growled as he tried to catch the towel that was repeatedly smacking him. "I'm sure you're not the best pleaser anyway. Minho might be better." The wolf growled, baring her teeth at the beta. Seungmin smirked and grabbed the towel, dragging her body towards his so he could grab her legs. The female squealed in shock as he grabbed her and pushed her body against the backdoor, his hands resting underneath her ass. "Shall we find out little puppy?" Seungmin taunted. "If you were so desperate for my attention you could have asked." Y/N mimicked his tone, testing the wolf's patience. Seungmin chuckled at her attitude before kissing her harshly. His teeth smacked against hers as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. Seungmin was relentless as he kissed up her neck, biting every so often he fancied before returning to her lips. Y/N could feel her arousal creeping up on her and she knew Seungmin could smell it. It was almost hard not to feel the way she did. His mouth was hot and wet. His fangs were sharp they made her shiver in delight. "Hold on to me. I'm not taking you to the garden. I'm not that cruel." Seungmin breathed out as he opened the door to take her to the living room. "Are you not?" Y/N challenged and Seungmin gave her a wink before throwing her onto the sofa with a growl.

Seungmin pulled her down with another growl before he leaned to kiss her, yet he didn't. His lips ghosted over hers, making her whine out in frustration, but Seungmin ignored her. Instead, he grabbed the hem of Minho's jogging bottoms and ripped them. Not caring about the item of clothing in front of him. "What? I'm an impatient man." Seungmin answered with a grin. As soon as the bottoms were desgarded he snapped the band of her underwear clean off before quickly spreading her legs, not wasting any time to prove he could definitely please her. To her surprise Seungmin was slow and attentive as he licked through her folds to her clit. The padding of his tongue laid flat against her. His rhythm started off slow as he built her up, carefully he flicked over clit. Occasionally he would suck before he came back down to her opening, teasing her entrance with his tongue. Her soft little breathy moans hardened Seungmins cock but he did not care. He wanted her to cum. He wanted to see her release. Seungmin sped up and paid extra detail to her hardened bud, edging her closer and closer until she came. "I mean. You tried." Y/N breathed out causing the wolf to glare at her, ready to start again when Felix walked passed. Y/N threw the wolf off and wrapped the blanket around her so she could mostly check on the wolf. "Felix. Felix." Y/N called out.

Felix turned around and looked at the sweaty female wolf curiously. He could see the frustrated beta behind him. "Are you okay?" Y/N breathed out. "I am alright. Come here." Felix pulled her hand and took her to the kitchen so she was away from Seungmins glares. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I wanted to talk to you but I didn't know what to say to you. I didn't want to say the wrong thing and I didn't want you to blame yourself. Honestly, I never wanted to kill anyone. I don't like fighting. I mean I don't like it when Chan argues with me so killing someone was hard. I felt sick and it made me hate myself. I hated myself more when I saw your face. Wooyoung was your alpha and you loved him and then I killed him. I didn't even know what to say because despite being angry at you, I never wanted you to ever think it was your fault or feel bad. I am sorry. I will always talk to you about anything baby, but this was hard." Felix's confession made Y/N's head swell. She appreciated his honesty and recognised how valid his feelings were. No one was meant to like killing. It should always be a last resort or an impossible resort. "I wasn't angry at you, ever. It was hard because I watched the person who abused me die. It was weird. I felt felt relief, but sadness, but I never held it against you. Your feelings are valid. No one is supposed to kill. But anyway it's fine. I want us to be fine." Felix appreciated her words. He was grateful for her being so understanding. "Come here, my love," Felix whispered as he pulled her closer, careful of her blanket as he kissed her softly. Felix's mouth was salty. She could taste the sweat on his tongue as she pushed harder, causing Felix to grip the towel. "Did Seungmin not please you," Felix murmured as he pulled her head back to deepen his tongue. "Need Lixie to make it better," Y/N whined. Felix smirked and put Y/N onto the counter, dismissing the blanket that was wrapped around her. "Mmm. Lixie make it better baby." Felix whispered as he planted his forehead against her, his fingers teasing her opening, while his thumb massages her clit. "Felix is sorry baby. Felix loves you so much. Gonna make you cum baby." Felix whispered as he teased her opening before sliding two fingers into her wet hole, causing her to gasp. Felix slowly slid in and out of her causing her to whine, her hips thrusting forward. "Can I taste you, baby? Hmm, let me taste you?" Felix whined, his soft pouty face aroused her. He was teasing her. She knew he had another face but he wasn't showing it. "Baby?" He cooed. "Yes. Yes." Y/N answered and gasped when she felt his mouth on her clit. His rough sucks sent a wave of emotions causing her to cum all over Minho's counter, but Felix didn't stop. Felix brought his head up to watch her as he slowly entered a third. "You gonna cum for me again baby?" Felix teased as he pressed harder into her, causing her to let out a panicked groan as he pulled out slowly only to slam into her harder. "Felix." Y/N gasped as he watched her, flicking his wrist slowly but harsher before thrusting faster into her. The sound of her wet pussy being fucked by Felix's hand sounded dirty. Her slick was seeping out as slid down Felix's hand. "Such a pretty wolf, aren't you." Felix cooed as he nuzzled her face. "Has your Felix been forgiven?" "Yes. Yes." Y/N reached out to pull the wolf towards her, her hands pulling Felix's hair as she kissed him. Felix growled at her actions, it was turning him on.

"Can I have her back now." Seungmin called out, causing Y/N to glare at the wall. "Go on before he gets grumpy. I'll clean up." Felix answered as he kissed her lips, before she headed into the living room to see a dangerous Seungmin who patted his lap. Y/N rolled her eyes and sat on his lap with her arms crossed. "Such a sulky puppy." Seungmin chided. "Such a sulky puppy." Y/N mimicked sticking out her tongue for him to catch, his nails digging into her tongue, causing the female wolf to look dumbfounded. Seungmin smirked and spat on her tongue, his saliva sliding down the side of her mouth. "Does puppy like being spat on?" Seungmin growled, letting go of her tongue before flipping them over, his hands pushing her into the sofa with a glare. Seungmin winked at her, his amber eyes glowed and his fangs appeared, making her nervous at his animalistic presence. Seungmin lowered his head down to her wet glistening pussy that was already leaking her silky slick all over again. Seungmin gave her one flick of his tongue before grazing her sensitive bud with his fangs causing her to grip the sofa. She had never experienced anything so primal in her life. She was scared but so excited at the same time. Seungmin growled and flicked her clit with his fang again causing her to whimper. He had her right where he wanted her. The wolf grazed his mouth harshly over her pussy before he meticulously fucked her with his tongue. His sharp fangs scraped away at her causing her to let out an orgasmic scream. Her panicked scream caused Felix to burst through the door in worry as he heard her. He was unsure if she was enjoying it or petrified at Seungmin's wolf, but seeing her flushed skin and blurry eyes, she seemed fine, until he stopped. She was so close to the edge and he stopped.

Seungmin laughed at her, as he patted her wet pussy. He could see she was annoyed. Her blue eyes glared at him. She was so undeniably desperate. "What is it puppy? Hmm. Do you need to release it? Too bad." Seungmin answered. "You're so mean. Let her come." Felix stated as he walked over to kiss the sweaty female wolf. The female wolf grabbed and pulled him down to her, desperately latching on to his mouth. Felix obliged, kissing her softly as his hands reached under Minho's jumper to play with her hardened breast. "Why don't you order him to make you come," Felix whispered. "He has to listen. Alpha Hyunjin ordered him to." "Seungmin. Don't be so mean. You have to let me come. Please." Y/N whined as she watched the wolf's hardened eyes. "Alright puppy, but only because I have to. Once tomorrow hits I'm gonna punish you." Seungmin warned as he dived into her pussy, his fangs almost piercing her skin. Felix lifted her jumper so he could suck on her breasts. The sensation of both betas hand sent her into an overdrive causing her to pull at their hair. Felix didn't seem to mind and almost orgasmed every time she yanked him but Seungmin seemed to get more pissed off, that every time she did it, he would nip her thighs.

Seungmin and Felix continued to please her all afternoon, sending her into several orgasms, one after the other, each taking it in turns. They expected her to stop so they could cuddle and eat but her drive kept going and going to the point the two betas got worried. They had made her orgasm seven times and she still begged and cried, to the point she wanted them in here. They had her on the sofa, over their laps, at the coffee table even in the kitchen. It would not stop. They were afraid they might have triggered her heat accidentally, which was a good thing, but they needed Chan back. Technically they didn't need him, she could have anyone of the wolves she felt comfortable with but it was mainly the fact that Seungmin was getting tired. The obnoxious male had started to regret antagonising her and his hand was beginning to ache. He even joked about getting a dildo from the shop to help since they were not allowed to fuck her yet but Felix warned it was still a bad idea because she was healing, even though they both had slammed their fingers into her. Still, she was still begging and crying at the beta's for more release and Felix couldn't even get hold of one wolf. Felix tried Chan but his phone was off. He called Hyunjin twenty-four times but it went to answer machine. Seungmin in the end had to send an SOS message to their group chat in hopes one of them would see it: "HELP! I think Y/N's gone into heat! We need backup." Felix even responded with a light-hearted message in case the wolves panicked, "We can do it but I think our little wolf may need an alpha because Seungmin hasn't gotten the alpha stamina." And yet the two beta's had no response. They were left all alone with an incredibly feral female.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim

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rottiens · 10 months ago

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PRETTY IN THE DARK | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ tags. . noncon/dubcon vampire getō x human fem reader, blood, objectification, 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune. | WC: 2.3K

✮ about. . in your desire to protect your family, you end up making a deal with the devil.

He is sitting in the dining room when you enter the room. Your body doesn't react with a shrug of muscles as it was usual to do every time you encountered him wandering around as if he owned your apartment, but your heartbeat detonates as if someone has pushed you from behind and you plummet into the void.

Shadows take over every corner of your place as if this were their and Suguru's home and not yours. You breathe, exhaling the fright that has frozen your veins and move towards the switch blindly, sliding your fingers along the wall until you manage to make light.

Suguru squints his eyes being struck by the ace of light. He is sitting in one of the chairs with his elbows on the small wooden table, he has a half bun tying part of his hair up, the rest of the black hair falls down his back perfectly. The turtleneck sweater is new, it makes him look more elegant and you almost laugh at how formal he looks.

"I wasn't expecting you today," you say approaching, dropping the keys of the apartment on the table surface. You want to tell him he's quite the dramatist for setting this scene for you, the waiting in the dark in your apartment god knows what for so long, the absence of light, the black clothes… you wonder how long he's lasted waiting there for you, if he's gone through your kitchen, if he's rummaged through your clothes.

His clear eyes scan your face as if reading what you're thinking, then he notices the paper bags you drop next to your keys before answering. "I thought I'd stop by for a snack" He replies with a mocking tone.

"What's this?" you reach out to grab the glass bottle in front of him. Inside a red, almost black liquid swirls amusedly as you move it back and forth in search of something to give you a clue as to what it might be and you pray it's not what you're thinking.

"Beet juice." The confession makes you scrunch up your face in distaste. Okay, it wasn't what you were thinking but this doesn't make it any less gross. "It's good for the red blood cells."

You squint to examine it better. Was he giving you a gift? Was that what he meant? The vampire who had threatened to kill your family if you didn't feed him your blood?

"I'm not going to drink it." You set the bottle down on the table with a thud.

"You will. I need you to be healthy." There it is, the reason. You should have known better.

Suguru pulls his hands away from his face that drop his jaw, invisible hands squeeze your chest at the sight of him again, it was a strange feeling having him erase your memory after feeding on you to make you forget details about him that you don't need to know, just in case you decide to expose him to the church. So seeing him always makes you feel uneasy, he is handsome, his small eyes are intimidating and the whole aura around him makes you feel tiny.

"Shall we get this over with?" you raise an eyebrow looking to put an end to an encounter that shouldn't be any longer than necessary. You move the sleeve of your sweater up revealing your right wrist which begins to heal, at the juncture are two dots on your skin, around them the flesh takes on a yellowish color.

Suguru gets up from his seat and without taking his eyes off you sits on the chair next to you. His fingers take your hand gently, without wasting time he brings it to his mouth and his lips brush against your skin causing you to tingle, he breathes in your scent, breathes in the essence of your skin with his eyes closed.

"Stand up," he suddenly orders.

You move against the wall, trembling with fear and anticipation. Suguru is in front of you taking up all the space that allows you to see the rest of the room, your gaze riveted on the silver cross hanging from his neck and you snort at the irony.

With his finger he lifts your chin and makes you look at him, you want to run away, but you force yourself to be brave by chewing on the bottom of your cheek.

"You don’t have to compelled me." Suguru raises an eyebrow, questioningly. "I'm not going to scream."

Surprise marks the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth in a brief smile. "You want to feel the pain?"

You shake your head before pulling your face away from his finger yanking back. "I just want to know what it feels like." You feel guilty. A bitter cocktail rises in your stomach, you think it's unfair to have to be protecting your family without knowing exactly how you do it, what happens before, during or after. You feel guilty for not feeling pain.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he speaks softly. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut ignoring the hotness that suddenly chokes you.

Instead of answering you reach out your hand, you hear him chuckle softly and when you sense him lowering your hand back to its place you turn hurriedly to look for him, wondering why. The hope that he is going to let you go today crosses in front of you.

"I want from the vein in your neck."

You swallow. Suguru can't disguise staring at your throat and how it rises and falls. Wordlessly you push down on the fabric of the sweater collar and let him see the vein pulsing rapidly thanks to your racing heart.

Suguru moves closer to you, his teeth grazing you as if testing how fast he can break the skin. Then, he deposits a kiss that makes you clench your lips to keep from moaning, his tongue glides in wet circles that that warm the area and your body trembles.

"Hold still."

Is all you hear before suguru opens his mouth in an inhuman way and sinks his long fangs into your neck, the pain making you moan involuntarily. His fangs are sharp needles that sink into the flesh and pierce until they leave two holes just enough for blood to spill out of the vein. The piercing pain stops, instead you feel his soft lips sucking like he's giving a hickey.

"It hurts…" you whimper.

The sounds of your blood gurgling in his mouth deafens you, you drop your eyelids as he pushes your head further to the side in an awkward position so he has the space to go deeper and chase the spilling crimson stream.

A hand-shaped snake crawls up your navel, searches for the button of your pants and in seconds undoes it to find your panties. Suguru stops feeding to speak in your ear.

"I'm going to make you feel better." His voice is almost unrecognizable, less friendly, deeper and more terrifying. "I'm going to keep feeding on you and you're going to cum on my long fingers."

You don't even respond. You can't complain because of the way your hands lose feeling and your knees buckle. Suguru goes back to sucking as the pad of his cold fingers push your pussy lips wide open and squeeze your clit back and forth almost in a lazy way. You squint harder to imagine that you're not there, that you're somewhere else and this isn't happening. Because what kind of person would you be if you felt pleasure because this creature, who every week comes to feed on you, is making you feel good?

He slips a finger easily inside you masking the pain in your neck with pleasure. Suguru pushes it in as if searching for something, then adds another finger and a louder moan tears your throat. Suguru pauses to lay his forehead on your throat, giving one last lick to the open wound that slowly stops bleeding and just lies there enjoying his long fingers parting your wet pussy.

"You taste so good when you're aroused," he growls, thrusting slowly. "I can hardly stop myself."

His fingers increase the intensity of his strokes, massaging your pussy in an erotic back-and-forth, scissoring his fingers and thumb touching your clit. It doesn't take your body long to reach orgasm, shattering you to pieces and making the lack of blood make you feel dizzy. Helpless and weak, you cling to his sweater, intoxicated in the peculiar perfume that envelops him until you begin to see black and everything becomes one big swirl that makes you fall into a deep sleep.

. . . When you wake up you are in your bed, lying on your back with one of your plush blankets covering your legs. You try to sit up but your body aches, especially your neck. You bring your fingers to where the wound should be but find the soft fabric of one of your scarves wrapped around your neck.

"Was I too rough?" This time, your body does react by curling up on the mattress. You pull your legs up to the level of your chest and search for the voice that burst into your room.

You find him as a long figure standing at the edge of the bed looking down at you from above. Did he care? Clearly not, because his mischievous-looking smile tells you otherwise.

You begin to tremble as he approaches, your gaze following him as you watch him come closer to you. The bed sinks with his weight, he reaches for one of your arms hugging your knees and pulls it towards him, Suguru brings the back of your hand to his mouth and leaves a kiss there, and the scene is so intimate that it feels awkward to you.

His body sensation is not icy cold as it normally is, his warm hands mimic the warmth of an ordinary man and you have a theory that it is due to the temperature change your fresh blood briefly carries in him, this only lasts a couple of minutes after all.

You wonder what he's doing, what he's playing at. Your heart leaps out of your chest the moment Suguru starts a path of kisses from your palm to your wrist, your blood turns icy cold after he stops on your wrist, you stutter his name, you think he's going to bite you again but what he does instead takes you by surprise.

Suguru gives you a long lick, the taste of your body cream diluted in the day's sweat soaks his tongue, then he closes his lips around the area and makes a hickey. Red, small, and when he pulls away to contemplate his creation it almost looks like the shape of a map. He crawls from your skin reluctantly and looks at you between heavy lashes, there's lust in his gaze mixed with hunger and desire and you hate yourself for the way your body reacts, your nipples harden and your pussy gets wet for him again.

"What-"

"No one touches my property." Your eyes widen. "This should carry a message to whoever you're fucking, unless of course, you wish me to show up in person to your job."

You reeked of man perfume and it made him want to throw up. He didn't want to smell someone else's scent on you when he was feeding.

"That's not of your business," you spit with a boiling face and a flutter in your stomach, tugging at your hand to escape the trap it had fallen into but it's only in vain because his strength is triple yours and you don't move an inch. "Our deal is just my blood."

"Perhaps," suguru murmurs, flashing you in a brief smile just the tips of the fangs that a moment ago were digging into you. "But it will be your fault when I bring their head as an offering along with another bottle of beet juice."

You struggle to hold back tears of helplessness. He grins again and his teeth cut through the darkness, you clear your throat to fight back and say it's not fair however Suguru gets up before you can.

Gracefully, he gives a brief tour of the room. You are embarrassed that he finds it in this state, books on your bed, shoes out of place and clothes on the floor. You were in a rush this morning, you were going to be late and you prioritized time over tidying your safe space as you rummaged through your uniform shirt.

He removes the hair tie that grips his mane and lets it fall all the way down his back like a dark waterfall as he looks down at the jeans on the floor, on top of it is a pair of light pink panties that he observes undisguised. As if every move is planned he ties all his hair back into a high ponytail, the movements causes the black sweater to ride up his abdomen revealing a wink of toasted skin, with a line of hair revealing itself at the edges of his pants and rising blurred to his belly button.

"How are you feeling?" He asks suddenly, dropping his arms to either side.

"Do you even care?" you reply curtly, looking down at his feet. You glance up at him in time to see him smirk, clearly amused by your attitude.

Suguru moves towards you again and you wonder when you will stop feeling not enough in his presence. He sits at your feet, puts his hand to his mouth and bites down hard. Your body squirms at the action, raw fear showing on your wrinkled nose and furrowed brow.

"Drink," he says reaching out, droplets of blood slipping onto your favorite blanket.

"No."

"It's not a request, sweetheart." You don't understand what he intends by this but you don't seek to make him angry either, so you lean down and wrap your lips around his skin to finally suck the blood that spurts out of him.

The taste of iron is so strong it's unbearable. Your mouth fills with saliva and your stomach knots warning you with rejecting what you are drinking, you want to move away but his hand is behind the back of your neck pulling you closer to him and preventing your escape.

"Keep sucking. Your wound will heal faster that way."

You blink faster pushing away the tears that peek out, you close your eyes tightly becoming oblivious to what you are doing, his fingers pampering your hair as if you were a pet. Stroking you gently.

"Swallow. That's a good girl."

#cw noncon #cw objectification #wr #geto drabbles #jjk drabbles #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #wr.geto

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 months ago

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Could I request the Delico daddies with a s/o who makes toys for the kids?

It was around lunch time when [Y/N] arrived for an unexpected, but not unwelcome, visit to the nursery. Dali was always happy to see them. No matter the circumstances.

He excused himself to go check on their meal, then after Dali came back into the nursery to check on his sons. Of course, [Y/N] was there, looking after them in his stead. Along with a new guest to their little enclave. “Who is this then?”

Raphael looked up from his new, crochet bear at his father. “[Y/N] said they made it for me.”

“They did, did they?”

He looked over to his partner who smiled bashfully. “Well, I had the extra yarn.”

“Of course.” Dali replied knowingly. Touched that they would make something, by hand, for his son. “He will need a name though. What shall we name him?”

“Hmmm…Bernard?”

“I think you mean Bear-nard.” And Dali laughed at his own joke.

“Look Papa look! My doll has a lace dress just like me!”

“Mine has a pretty hat. Papa, can you get a hat like this for me?”

“Eh..?? Didn’t you just get a present Elena?” Henrique reminded his daughter as the girls gushed over their new dolls.

One of the nice things about seeing one of the premier doll makers in the city, was that the girls got all the new doll designs before anyone else. Sometimes Henrique thought they got more out of his relationship than him. But when he looked over at [Y/N], in awe of their beauty and the way they beamed when the girls got so excited over their new creations, he knew that wasn’t true at all.

“I actually designed this hat from one my friend did for her new couture line. Shall I see if she can make you one?”

The girls, of course, squeal for joy. Loud enough to pierce Henrique’s ears. “You’re spoiling them….”

“I know,” [Y/N confessed, “but I can’t help it.”

“I know what you mean.” He agreed, seeing their excited faces. “You girls will have to be extra good until you get your hats though. No funny business from here on out.”

“Ok!” They chime together while fussing with their dolls. Like perfect little dolls themselves.

“I have a gift for Theodore.” Dino arched a brow at [Y/N]’s announcement over tea. “I would like to give it to him after dinner.”

Dino sighed. He cared for [Y/N] but their professional hobby in making children’s toys was just…odd to him. What need did children have for toys when there were perfectly good books around? “Theodore does not need toys. He needs things that will stimulate his mind.”

“I agree. That’s why I made him this.” A small box, seemingly out of nowhere, was then placed on the table. Different woods aligned in an intricate pattern. “It’s a puzzle box.”

‘A puzzle box? Interesting.’ Dino thought as he moved to inspect it.

“The goal is to get all the same shades on the same sides. It’s a manner of mathematics, memory, and dexterity to get it to align properly.” Dino scoffed at [Y/N]’s explanation. How hard could it be? “So, may I give it to him?”

His fingers play with the shape and moving pieces. Getting them to move with ease and slot into their new spaces. “Hmmm…I suppose.” This did seem challenging, and any Classico would thrive on a challenge.

By the time dinner came around Dino and the puzzle box could not be found. Both were locked in his office. His fingers gripping the toy so tight it might shatter. “How do you solve this damn thing?!”

The clock in Gerhard’s office struck 9 o’clock and he put down his evening scotch to get ready for bed.

He felt it was important to get a goodnight sleep. In order to keep a sharp mind and foster good health. A virtue he hoped to instill in his son.

As he walked down the hall, Gerhard heard noises coming from his son’s room. Nothing alarming, but louder than the usual quiet of the house. When he got to the door he opened it, just in time to have a small toy cannonball hit him in the chest. “What’s all this noise?!”

Angelico sunk back into himself, a fretful look on his face as he looked at his father. Not sure what to say. “Don’t blame us.” [Y/N] answered in his stead from their place on the floor. “You’re the one that walked directly into our enemy line of fire. Friendly fire is almost a given at that point.”

Gerhard grumbled at them and looked at the toy soldiers all over the floor. “What is all this?”

“[Y-Y/N] got them for me father.” Angelico answered.

“Yeah. And you’re scuffing up my paint job with those heels.”

He looked down to see he had accidentally stepped on one of the toy soldiers; too distracted by projectiles to notice his mistake. Luckily it wasn’t broken. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.”

“You could stay you know.” [Y/N] offered. Starting to move the left flank up to their makeshift river. “We could use someone for the rear platoon.”

Gerhard looked at Angelico, who looked up at him so hopefully that his hands nearly trembled. And Gerhard gulped. “Well…just for a little while. Then you have to go to bed. And clean this up.”

His son grinned but nodded eagerly before moving his soldiers as well. Gerhard knelt down next to [Y/N] and moved a couple of pieces in an effort to play as well.

By the clock struck 11 o’clock, the three of them had constructed a navy battle as well out of paper boats, and no one near ready for bed.

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muxshwriting · 7 months ago

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you and i (pt. ii)

Simon Basset x bridgerton!reader

summary: as Daphne's twin, you were always second to her. but then you meet someone who is only yours, completely devoted to you. nothing will come between the two of you, it is just you and him || warnings: pre-marital kissing (how scandalous), fuck old man Hastings || word count: 1072 || masterlist

PART ONE

You rushed into your sister's room that evening, needing to talk with her. "Daphne!"

She was sat at her window, already in nightclothes. "What is it?"

"I know about you and the Duke." You confessed. "I know it was all a ruse and I know he doesn't love you."

Daphne smiled knowingly, pulling you to it beside her. "He told you everything? Even-"

"He loves me Daphne! He said he wants to marry me but needs to court me properly first." Your practically giddy with excitement. "Oh Daphne, I'm going to be a Duchess and you a Princess!"

Now it was Daphne's turn to blush as she thought of her beloved Prince.

"When do you think the Prince will propose?"

She thought for a moment. "Soon, I suppose. He is returning to Prussia at the end of the season and we shall have to be married by July. I am going be a Princess, can you imagine? Me, in a palace, raising children of my own. I will miss you all terribly though."

You smile at her happiness. "You'll be a perfect princess Daph, trust me. Besides, you can always come back and visit or we can come and visit you. I'm sure Colin can stop by Prussia on his tours." The two of your giggle, spending the waning evening discussing your futures together and what they might hold.

The Duke courts you perfectly, charming each and every time. The season has quietened slightly as proposals are accepted and honeymoons begin. Simon joins your family at the park for a promenade, conversation flowing easily between the two of you as you tour the park before making your way back to your family.

"What do you want for the future Simon?"

He sighs, realising what he must confess. "I do not know. But there is something I must tell you. It could change everything and I understand if afterwards, you do not wish to marry me-"

"Simon, what is it?"

"I can’t give you children." Simon says the half-truth.

"Children are not the end of the world." You quickly reply. "If we cannot have children of our own, I shall spoil all my nieces and nephews from my siblings." You pause, resting a hand on his. "It does not make me love you any less."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

You want to say more but your youngest siblings are running over, begging you and Simon to entertain them. Simon watched on as you attempted to chase your youngest siblings around the grounds. They were much more agile than you and you soon fell behind, catching your breath. A look passed between Hyacinth and Gregory and they both leapt towards you, pushing you to the ground and climbing on top. They shrieked with laughter as you rolled them both over and began tickling them, squirming to get away from your hands.

You were a natural, bringing your siblings joy without much effort and sharing their joy on your face. In that moment, Simon was willing to cast aside all hatred he held for his father. To see you happy, surrounded by your family was magical. If Simon could give you your own family to raise, he would. He would be happy to spite his father, not live unhappily as his father wanted him to.

He makes his decision and takes the journey that very night, calling on the Bridgerton house in the early evening and heading straight to Anthony's office.

"Simon!" He calls, "What brings you here?"

"I am not here as a friend Anthony, there is something I must ask."

Anthony leans back in his chair, some idea of the question forming in his head. He nods for Simon to continue and watches as he wrings his hands together and stutters out a response.

"I love Y/N. I know our marriage is not your favourite idea but I willing to do anything for her. I'll do whatever I need to." He takes a deep breath. "Therefore, I am asking your permission for her hand in marriage. I intend to propose with my mother's ring and have no need for Y/N's dowry."

Anthony nodded slowly. "I am not blind, nor an idiot. Anyone can see that my sister would not be happier with anyone else. However, to reject her dowry is an insult to this family. I do not care if you have enough money to support her. Take the money, put it in a trust for your future children, let Y/N use it to buy whatever she pleases, but take it."

"I have you blessing?" Simon couldn't quite believe it was that easy.

"You have my blessing." Anthony pauses as he stands to shake Simon's hand. "But if you ever hurt her, you'll have me and my brothers coming for you."

"I'd never."

He appears in the Bridgerton House drawing room the very next morning, a bunch of flowers for you and Mama as he fiddled with the box in his pocket.

"There is a question I must ask you."

Your quietly hopeful as you stand to meet him. "Yes?"

"Marry me Miss Bridgerton." He begs. "It would do me no greater pleasure than to call you my wife."

"Yes." The brightest of smiles covers your face. "I would love to marry you."

Simon's smile matches yours as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

"This ring is beautiful."

Simon smiles wistfully. "It was my mothers. Lady Danbury kept it safe, hoping that I would find love of my own one day."

"Perhaps I should thank Lady Danbury then."

"Please do not, she will take it to her head and never let us forget it."

Your mother silently leaves the room, calling your sisters and servants out with her. Both of you are silent for a minute, revelling in your private moment and your recent engagement. "You know," You begin. "No one would know if I were to kiss you in this moment... That is why Mama called all the servants out."

Simon matches your smirk and steps even closer to you, feeling your breath on his face. You're breathing the same air, hearts beating in unison. His lips brush against yours as he speaks, "No one would know..."

You close the distance, threading your hands into the lapels of his jacket to pull his even closer as your lips melt together in perfect harmony.

All was perfect in the world, everything would be alright.

hope you enjoyed! part two had me giggling and kicking my feet ngl

#simon basset x reader #simon basset #the duke #bridgerton!reader #bridgerton #muxsh #muxshwriting

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etheries1015 · 1 year ago

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Malleus X (Flirty and almost shameless) Reader - A...confession? Kind of?

warning: not really proof read, gender neutral reader

tw: None, maybe some second hand embarrassment BUAHA

"Prefect... I... I like you! I admire you, and I think you're so attractive and kind and you're always helping others-"

"I'm gonna stop you there. I'm flattered, I really am, and it takes a lot of courage to face your feelings like that. however I will let you know I am in fact in love with someone already, so I'm going to have to say no."

Malleus felt his heart drop into his stomach, he hadn't felt this way from such small words spoken by another person before. Before he knew it he found himself holding his breath, continuing to listen, hoping to hear you speak more in depth of this love you spoke fondly of. He continued to listen closely to the events transpiring before him, almost yearning for you to comfort his doubts.

"I-I see..." The other males voice said, cracking slightly, "well..I hope whoever they are...you're h-happy.." Another voice crack. He was defintently crying at this point. Foot steps scurried away from the dorm, as you let out a deep sigh and turned in the direction of the eavesdropper.

"Malleus, I can see your horns poking through the top of that pillar you 're attempting to hide behind. You're not very slick," you chuckled, to which Malleus revealed himself embarssingly from behind the pillar of the worn down building.

"...Apologies for eavesdropping, that's incredibly unbecoming of me. However, Who, might I ask, were you speaking about when you said you have someone else in your affections?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before looking up at him with a tilted head, a look of pure confusion before you said,

"Who else? Of course it's you, Tsunotaro."

Malleus could not hide the obvious shock at this revelation, green eyes wide and jaw slacked open as if he was trying to find the words to reply yet nothing was coming out for nothing felt right to say in this moment. You were so brazen to confess your affections were for the draconic prince of Briar Valley in such an uncouth and 'improper' way? Malleus almost laughed out loud at this.

You must have felt that something was off with your confession in the way Malleus reacted, and quickly tried to remedy yourself.

"Oh, but i'll make sure to show that my feelings are true! I just wanted you to know right away that nobody else has my sights, yeah?" You giggled nervously, "Okay, how about this, we pretend that absolutely none of this happened, and you meet me at ramshackle! I have a suprise for you!"

"...Shall I consider this an official invite?"

"Of course!" You smiled brightly, "I, (y/n), prefect of Ramshackle dorm hereby officially invite you, Malleus Draconia, to a date located tonight at 8PM in the Ramshackle garden. Got it?" The bell rang signifying it was time for classes to begin, you had walked away from the fae waving and calling out;

"Don't be late! Tonight, at 8PM! I'll be sad if you're not there!!"

Malleus watched as your lively figure skipped away, smiling to himself he couldn't help but burst out in laughter.

"How shameless of them!" He snickered to himself, "I shall indeed look forward to how tonight's events unfold."

Although incredibly straight forward and unable to hide yourself, it was truly one of the biggest charms Malleus was attracted to. You always knew how to surprise him, and he was certain you would be the one for him, blunt or otherwise.

~~~

slowly but surely getting through my 20+ drafts...some are in here from over a year ago bro...

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcannons #twst headcannons #Malleus #Malleus x reader #Malleus draconia #Malleus Draconia x reader #Malleus draconia headcannons #malleus headcannons

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impala124 · 8 days ago

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Bad Buddy 12

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5 | Ep 6 | Ep 7 | Ep 8 | Ep 9 | Ep 10 | Ep 11

Me, at the end of this episode:

Oh, we have a 4-year time skip!! Interesting.

Pat, where is the Nong Nao doll? I don't see it on your bed. I need answers right now.

I like the transition from Pat putting down his toothbrush to Pran picking up his own. Very clever.

Pran, quick question: WHERE ARE YOU? I see the view in the background, and that's one of Singapore's most iconic buildings, if I'm not wrong, which is definitely not in Thailand. So, boy, what's your ass doing in Singapore?

At least he's still wearing The Watch, so I have hope. Pran's a yearner through and through, so I expected nothing less from him.

We all agree that Max is hitting on Pran, right? Pran's not having any of it, though.

Poor Pat, he doesn't look too happy when Korn and Wai mention revisiting the old days.

Not the fucking elevator flashback 😭😭. Oh no, the curry Pran made for him after he confessed that he liked him. Man, this shit hurts!!

I, for one, am not at all surprised that Pat joined his father's business after graduation. I could've told you that on the day we first met him.

Sidenote, but why are these 22/23-year-olds lamenting about getting old?

Guys, Pa graduated from university and is making a movie!! My baby's all grown up now!! *wipes tears*

Ok, Wai and Korn each have girlfriends. How about instead of saving for individual dowries, you both just ditch the girls and marry each other? Just food for thought.

But why aren't they bringing up Pat's love life? Is it still a touchy topic? I mean, it's been 4 years, and we don't know what reason they gave their friends for the breakup, though, so we shall see.

What do you mean someone else moved into Pran's room? It should've been preserved as a heritage site. Contacting the people at UNESCO ASAP.

Ink and Pa are on my screen together. My boys might be miserable right now, but at least my girls are thriving.

A high school reunion, you say? If I'm not wrong, Pat, Pran, and Ink went to the same high school. Are they going to MEET at the reunion????!

Wow, Ink misses her high school classmates. Definitely can't relate to that sentiment, bestie.

Pat, sir, is that a smile on your face at the possibility of running into Pran at the reunion?

Not Pat looking solemnly at the memory wall.😭😭

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Pran is here at the reunion!!!

Okay, so just looking longingly at each other is all I'm going to get for now.

"But some things can never change." Pat, bestie, change is the only constant in life. Fuck everything else and go get your man!!

Are you really playing a game at your reunion if the prize up for grabs isn't something like an accommodation voucher for a night at a mid-budget hotel??

Not the trip down memory lane😭. Y'all are in the same room; talk to each other and put yourselves (& me) out of this misery.

A live performance, you say? And PRAN IS SINGING. Now, don't tell me it's the song he wrote to soft launch his feelings to Pat in high school.

Yes, he is. Pat, are you listening? I know you're hearing it, but are you LISTENING to it?

EXCUSE ME! What was that sweet smile you guys just exchanged? I need an explanation!! NOW!!!

A group photo with them being pushed towards each other, which could be a metaphor for the string of fate always bringing them back together. Love to see it.

Pat, let me introduce you to something called a cab. It's really effective in taking your friend's drunk ass home, especially when your ex is giving you THE LOOK!!

Okay, Pat's on the phone with Pa (probably?) and is complaining about being hungry. You know what you should do, Pat? Go to your favorite noodle shop and wait for your ex to show up so that you can talk things through.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S PRAN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR AND ON THE PHONE??!!! My brain is malfunctioning right now.

"You said you'd sleep at your house." What in the hell is happening right now?

Crisis averted, the Nong Nao doll makes an appearance on the bed.

Okay, Pran, I see you wearing your 'happy hour' shirt while complaining to your boyfriend (?) about Singapore's air pollution.

One thing about them: they are going to use the fucking sponsored makeup remover on the other. It's quite endearing, actually.

BB Product placement stays superior till the end.

I need an explanation, stat!! Are you still mad I didn't pick you up at the airport? What is that boyfriend-ass statement, Pat?

Pran just referred to Pat as his boyfriend. "We've been together for too long."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY NEVER BROKE UP IN THE FIRST PLACE??!!! I need a minute to process this.

My reaction till now, everyone, is the fucking Kuleshov effect in action, with me thinking that both of them are sad because of their 4-year-long separation, when in reality, they are just boyfriends missing each other.

Aww, a memory wall in their home.

Finally, THE GUITAR PICK that Pat made for Pran all those years ago makes an appearance!

So, according to the photos on THE WALL, Pat actually visited Pran in Singapore.

I do hope we get a home tour at some point; I'm really interested in seeing how Pran's OCD self blended his life with Pat's messy ass.

Unknowingly, from two people who couldn't be friends, we became two people who were more than friends.

So, they lied to everyone by saying that they broke up and began Secret relationship 2.0

Not them holding their fucking pinkies together when they pass by in the hallway ASFDGHF—

Time and space are just a construct when it comes to me and my blorbos because remember what I said when they were dating in secrecy the first time? I told them that they should have at least one person they are both familiar with to be in the know about their relationship to maintain a successful secret relationship. And Pran IRREFUTABLY heard me because Wai, Korn, Pa, and Ink knew about them this time around. I bet Einstein didn't foresee this coming.

Aww, they even visited Uncle Tong and Junior after they graduated.

I love that the parents aren't still getting along, because in such cases where the rivalry dates back decades, it feels abnormal to not continue doing so. It's almost like sunk cost fallacy but make it about rivalry.

However, I do love the little detail of Ming having to back off during their car face-off because Ming was the one who stabbed Dissaya in the back, figuratively speaking, all those years ago.

Not Pran rubbing the shirt all over his body to ensure that his scent lasts for a while💀 My boy is an actual menace.

Pat, sir, what are you thinking sending thirst pics to your boyfriend AT WORK?

They even held their pinkies together in their high school reunion photo.

Oh, I'm a happy camper because all my ships are sailing smoothly. The irony of Wai and Korn running the bar (where they used to fight with each other on a regular basis) together is just 😂 😂

Wai and Korn are soft launching their relationship, and no one can tell me otherwise. See, Pat is also a KornWai truther.

Pa, sweetheart, Ink was pining for you since she was in high school. I don't think you need to worry about her straying.

Keep up with shoving your couple photos down everyone's throats, though, just because y'all are hella cute together.

Korn does look like a middle-aged Asian uncle when he is complaining about the rival faculties breaking tables. Oh, how the tables have turned.

Yes, Wai, it's your penance for all the mess you guys used to cause all those years ago.

"Guys, I don't mind if you want to fight, but you must get a lover out of the fight, just like me." STAHP IT

Pran went from ordering three wontons to four—that's how you know he's in a long-term relationship, accommodating your partner without any prodding from their side.

Pran's "I brought your dad a bottle of liquor" is a solid strategy. There is nothing Asian dads love more than receiving imported liquor, even if they don't drink. A sure way to win some brownie points.

Kissing in front of the trashcans!!!! Oh, how far they've come.

Ming once again being the most Asian dad to ever exist by just randomly flipping through the newspaper just to appear busy.

As much as I love to hate on his quintessential Asian dad quirks, he is the most relatable of bl dads for me. Is he perfect? No, but I don't think anyone can say that he doesn't love his son.

Ink is accepted by Pa's parents, which doesn't surprise me one bit because she's perfect. PERIOD.

The dinner scene at Pat's house is a callback to the dinner scene in the initial episodes, when the dad was telling Pat to not let the neighboring boy win at any cost. Oh, how the tables have turned! Now, Pat is trying to curry favor with his dad for the said neighboring boy.

MING TOOK A SIP. Told ya, Asian dads just can't resist imported liquor.

The question of Pran's guitar. Did Pat keep it with him this time around too??!!

Ming crossed the LINE to deliver the mail, and Dissaya saw it.

Awww, his mom put it on his bed, which goes in line with my theory about parallels between Dissaya accepting Pran playing the guitar and him loving Pat. So, I'll be taking this as silent acceptance from her regarding their relationship.

I think both of them are ready to bury the hatchet, TO AN EXTENT, for the sake of their kids happiness.

Going off on a tangent for a bit, but bear with me. Let me take a moment to thank @respectthepetty for training me into thinking of love whenever I see the color pink because, what was the paint color the fathers used to draw the boundary between their houses all those years ago? Yes, it was fucking pink. It means that the answer was love all along. They were MEANT to fall in love to bridge the rift between their families. Talk about 'born to be together,' which was the exact sentiment Pran wanted to convey through The Song in high school.

Now, Pat coming into Pran's room through the window is a clear callback to the time Pat did the same to return the watch after Pran saved Pa. However, then he did it to tell Pran to not act friendly towards him in front of others, and now it's to spend some time with him without hiding from anyone, even their parents.

"If not you, I won't allow anyone else to use it. Pran, when I catch you—

Not Pran, my resident menace, trying to wake up the green-eyed monster by mentioning that Wai may have used it before💀😂

Pran's dad providing the meta commentary with his "This show is just so good." comment.

Ah, forehead kisses, my beloved!!!

Man, the flashbacks to when they were kids overlapping with them right now are just the cutest.

Everyone gather around because I just had a very big-brained thought. Remember, in Ep 8, on the rooftop, Pat wanted to share their relationship with the entire world while Pran asked what's wrong with just wanting to keep it for themselves. What if, whatever happened with their relationship after that, was just exploring both their paths? They clearly tried Pat's way first because Pran cared about him, despite his worry, and it resulted in the Ep 11 ending. After that, they took Pran's way and we all saw how it panned out for them. It might've taken them four years, but their parents are kinda onboard with their relationship.

Now that we're on this subject, let me try to provide some context to Wai pulling down the curtain on their relationship. Not defending his actions, but me thinks it was very intentional that Wai heard Pran say that although he's worried about others finding out about their (Pat & Pran's) relationship, he's willing to take the risk because he cares about Pat more. Wai's vindictive ass heard that and went through his montage of Pran lying to me about his relationship with Pat moments in his head and decided to put Pran's words about caring about Pat more to the test.

We get a post-credit scene? Truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Of course it had to be on a rooftop! Wait a second. Pat's birthday is on 23rd April, and the first time Pat slept over in Pran's room is on 24th April. The psychological implications of it all (for me) can't be overstated!!

Pran, my menace-in-residence, was really showing his horny ass by saying, 'The winner can do anything to the loser.' Never change, bestie!!

Well, I got the house tour I asked for earlier. Fucking Architectural Digest could never.

They shut the door in my face, and I said thank you!!

Honestly, I don't think I've even processed the finale yet. It was very pleasing to my lizard brain, that's for sure. I need to sit with it for a few days, and I'll probably write something about my whole experience liveblogging this BB watch and my thoughts on some of the CHOICES made in the whole series. A sneak peek of few things that are marinating in my head are—

Pat associating Pran with home because he feels lost (I was only half-joking when I compared him to a lost puppy following Pran around).

The air of sadness around Pat that just goes unacknowledged for the most part.

Pran associating Pat with freedom because he feels burdened.

Pran feeling undeserving of Pat's love.

Like I said, I'll be thinking about them a WHOLE LOT.

Quick question: Were there any talks of a season 2? Because there are some easter eggs peppered throughout the series that deserve further exploration, and they definitely have issues they need to address and work through as a couple. This ending will only count as an HFN (happy for now) in my book. I'm putting this ending on par with the To My Star ending, and I adored To My Star 2, so there's that. Still waiting for To My Star 3, though that's a discussion for another day.

One thing I can say for sure is that I'm extremely grateful for the fandom that has welcomed me with open arms and engaged with all my ramblings each episode, because let's be honest, it was just a stream of consciousness.

I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun watching the series without you guys. I'll be camping out on the rooftop for so long that I'll be claiming squatters rights for sure!!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou, @tao-moonb, @fanatic-freakshow @desi-yearning.

#bad buddy #bb liveblog #thai bl

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