#not to mention it's not his place to judge her behavior

[hugevanserrass]

thinking about the time rhysand said “nesta is… she’s illyrian. I mean that as a compliment, but she’s an illyrian at heart. so there is no excuse for her behavior.”

and that behavior is... playing cards at seedy taverns while spending the money rhysand owes her? if she's an illyrian at heart then maybe he'd prefer she go on a rampage and slaughter an entire village? rhys trying to pass this off as a compliment is also ridiculous because everything sjm has written about illyrians paints them as savage, violent monsters with bigoted/misogynistic beliefs. he is so foul for this

[uncannydevotion]

“ i'll love you 'til the day that i die! ”

a/n: this one is a mixture of dark content and light content so i really do recommend reading the warnings for this. the mh ones might be a little vague in canon bc it's been a little over two years since my last rewatch so!!

synopsis: realizations of love and what comes with.

includes: slenderman, jeff the killer, jane the killer, nina the killer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, nurse ann, eyeless jack, laughing jack, hobo heart, ticci toby, clockwork, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, the doll maker, zalgo, x-virus, laughing jill, candy pop, dr smiley, kagekao, nathan the nobody, zero, judge angels, kate the chaser, rouge the proxy, tim wright, brian thomas, jay merrick, alex kralie, jessica locke.

warnings: gn!reader, varying lengths, multiple mentions of unhealthy relationships, mentions of murder, blood, cults (zalgo), harm against reader (jane, nathan), reader death (dr smiley, alex kralie), obsession (nina, zalgo, dr smiley, nathan, helen), possessive behavior (zalgo, dr smiley, jason, zero, candy), references to a work on my old blog in the puppeteer's part, jealousy (x-virus), jay's death, numerous mentions of unhealthy co-dependency.

SLENDERMAN — does not understand the concept of love. this isn't to say it can't feel it, it just... won't be able to immediately identify when it starts to develop such an emotion for you. it goes through many experiences where it has a moment of 'you are... an interesting being' towards you, and those are like mini realizations. it won't realize it loves you until someone explains to it what love is.

and once it does understand that the strange feeling you made it feel was love, well... it's a bit hesitant to indulge, to be honest. slender has never felt something like this before. it didn't even know it was capable of such an emotion. it's something it always viewed as a weakness. it'll take a while for slender to accept its feelings for you, to be honest.

JEFF THE KILLER — realizes he's in love with you when he shows up at your place one evening to find you struggling to stay awake while waiting for him. it hits him suddenly, seeing you drifting in and out of sleep while staring at your phone. you hadn't realized he was there yet, and honestly, he doesn't want you to know. because if you look over at him, you'll see the disgusting fondness in his gaze.

he won't tell you he loves you for a long time. it's something that makes him feel weak. he'd always believed he had nothing to lose, and now that he does... it's just not something he was ready to acknowledge. those three words will only slip past his lips when he thinks he's about to lose you, because that's the only way you'd probably get him to admit he loves you.

JANE THE KILLER — only realizes she's in love with you when jeff threatens your life. you two were friends, and she cared deeply for you, but it was nothing more than that, surely. but then that rat bastard dared to hurt you, and suddenly she's a teenager again, losing everything she's ever loved. your blood on her hands is something she never wants to experience again.

but you survive, and jane is telling you that she loves you the moment your eyes open. you don't have to love her back, but she needs to get these feelings off her chest because it felt like she'd drown in them if she didn't. whether you reciprocate them or not doesn't matter to her, because jane will make a vow to ensure that no harm comes to you ever again.

NINA THE KILLER — likes to say she knew she loved you from the start, but that was just infatuation. nina is a bit desperate for a relationship, truth be told, so she's deeply invested in anyone who shows her an ounce of kindness because she thinks it could lead to something more. it's led to her being disappointed far too many times, and everyone had assumed it would be the same with you.

but as the weeks went by, her infatuation never went away. you didn't try pushing her away when she was around, and you always included her in the conversation. you went out of your way to make sure she didn't feel neglected. at this point, she doesn't care if it's genuine love or not. all she knows is that you and her are meant to be together, and she will stop at nothing to make sure that happens.

HOMICIDAL LIU — has numerous reasons as to why he doesn't realize he's in love with you until it literally smacks him in the face. he's busy trying to kill jeff, he's never been in a relationship before, he thinks he doesn't deserve the happiness a relationship might give him. just about all of that, all wrapped up into one giant mess of a ball. the way he realizes he's in love with you is sully literally screaming at him in his head and giving him the world's worst migraine.

even with this realization, he hesitates to indulge. once he does, he'll be baring all his flaws to you. you'll see every nasty part of him that he doesn't want you to know about, and you'll realize that he's no good for you. but when those words of love quietly escape him, and you smile at him and tell him you feel the same, he can't stop himself from being selfish. just this once, he decides. and if you ever want to leave, he'll let you go. he hopes.

SULLY — experiences something akin to love at first sight, actually. the moment he met you, he liked you. it was a strange fascination, one that had his heart racing when he was fronting. of course, he's not delusional enough to think it was actually love. still, it doesn't stop him from admiring you, and constantly telling you that he likes you whenever the chance presented itself. the moment it turns to genuine love, however, it's like this switch flips.

the playful glint in his eyes whenever he'd dramatically drape himself over you, the smug smile when he'd get you flustered, it was different. his touch lingered now, like he wanted to just be glued to your side. his smile was softer, like seeing you flustered was something more than a joke. his eyes held an emotion in them that was bordered on uncanny, like he wanted to devour you whole. his love for you could easily become twisted, if under the right circumstances.

THE BLOODY PAINTER — has absolutely no interest in romance whatsoever until you. helen's entire childhood revolved around being good enough for his parents, so he never had the opportunity to read romance novels or watch romance movies. now it's simply not something he cared about. the only thing that had his attention was his art. it was a part of his very being, after all. and the way you interact with his art is actually what made him fall for you.

he's used to people complimenting his work. empty words, things that meant nothing to him. but you criticized him. you pointed out certain things about his paintings that you didn't like, and highlighted the things you did. you were honest with him. and honesty is a quality he finds to be very attractive, apparently, because you end up stuck in his mind, the focal piece of all his work. his muse. something that bordered on obsession.

NURSE ANN — has a hard time feeling emotions to begin with, so she probably won't realize she loves you for a long time. her emotions are... dull, to put it simply. vague things that she struggles to identify. if it's not anger, then it'll take her a while to identify how she feels. it takes even longer for her to even articulate her emotions into something she can explain to you, considering she can't speak.

but ann realizes she's in love with you randomly one night, when you're not around. you're in her mind a lot more than she would like, but it's not something that upsets her. she spent a good chunk of the night wandering the halls of the abandoned hospital just... thinking about how she feels about you, and what the proper way to describe that feeling would be. she's not sure if she's ever been in love before, but she'd like to experience it with you.

EYELESS JACK — realizes he loves you in bits and pieces, over the course of your companionship. originally, he had wanted to eat you. but for one reason or another, he opted not to, and it led to a strange friendship blossoming instead. you took his demonic nature in stride, and never seemed repulsed by his less than human qualities. you appeared curious, more often than not. your curiosity is the first thing he finds himself falling in love with.

but the thing that solidified his feelings for you was when he paid you a visit one night, and you had excitedly guided him to this mini freezer you had bough a while ago. inside was just... numerous things of raw meat. animal meat, you had explained, because you weren't willing to dabble in illegal activities to get human meat. you just wanted him to be able to snack on something whenever he decided to spend the night, and he just... he ends up kissing you right then and there, yeah.

LAUGHING JACK — refuses to believe that he could ever fall in love with you. he's evil, he's cruel, he's never going to experience such stupid feelings like love. but it's like the universe is always out to make a fool out of him, because you come crashing into his life and suddenly colors start appearing again, and he hates it. he hates you, hates that you make him feel something after spending centuries feeling nothing.

and yet, he's somehow always finding excuses to be in the same room as you. he's stubborn enough to not admit that he's in love with you for a long time, but trust that his abandonment issues will make it known that he would kill you if you ever thought about leaving him. love him, hate him, he doesn't care as long as you're with him.

HOBO HEART — didn't think he could fall in love again after what happened with celina. he spent decades roaming the earth, taking the hearts of those who didn't deserve it, just to prolong his own existence before he met you. he could sense the purity in your heart, and it's what drew him to you to begin with. he was waiting for you to reveal your true colors, to give him a reason to kill you and take your heart but... it never came.

instead, you just proved to him that he could fall in love even without having a heart of his own. it's different from the first time he felt like this, and yet it was oh so familiar. the only possible downside to hobo being in love with you is the fact that he takes everything very literally, so anything you say is like the law of existence to him. he'll give you the hearts of hundreds of people to prove his devotion to you.

TICCI TOBY — realizes he's in love with you when he finds himself seeking out your presence. love is a scary thing to him, because he's not sure it's something he can handle. not anymore. he built up so many walls just to protect himself that it was... terrifying, really, how easily you were able to worm your way into his life. what confused him the most was the fact that he welcomed you.

it'll take him a while to actually come to terms with his feelings for you. he may even go as far as to avoid you entirely during the process, simply because you being around made it hard for him to focus. he never wanted a relationship, not that he can remember. being a proxy is all he knows, but now he's thinking about kissing you, and spending time with you, and wondering if you'll try talking to him today, and... it's all you.

CLOCKWORK — knows that she's in love with you when you don't distance yourself from her when you see her ugly side. her angry outbursts, her random breakdowns, things that she doesn't like people seeing. you've seen it all, and you've never let that change the way you viewed her. a part of her hates that you're so accepting, because it makes it so damn easy to get attached to you, and she's always wondering when the other shoe will drop.

natalie doesn't like feeling weak, but god... you make it so easy to just let loose, and it's a feeling she starts to crave when she's away from you for too long. i don't think she'll tell you she loves you, mostly because she's got this idea instilled in her head that if she does, you'll drop her immediately. if this relationship were to go anywhere, you'd have to take the first step.

JASON THE TOYMAKER — is telling you he loves you the moment he decides you're the one for him. he does this with all of his victims. but you won't be like the rest, surely. you'll stay, and never need anyone other than him. but he doesn't realize that he's truly, deeply, in love with you until it just hits him while he's in the middle of sewing up some random stuffed animal. jason loves you. it's a revelation that shouldn't shock him, but it does.

and the next time he sees you, the words are tumbling out of him mouth as he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly that you felt like you'd suffocate in his arms. you were the one for him. you had to be. nobody has ever made him feel like this before. the place where his heart should be burned whenever you were around, and it's such an odd feeling that he was becoming obsessed with. you can't leave him, and he won't let you even if you tried.

THE PUPPETEER — staunchly refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you for a very long time. he's always had a bit of a soft spot for you the moment he made you his proxy, but he ignored it. he'd even get angry if anyone brought it up, because no. he is not in love with you. you're merely a tool for him to use, nothing more. but as time went on, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the aching in his chest whenever you were around.

it all tips over when he catches you carefully tending to emra's injuries while he had been away. he's been known to be very possessive of his creations, not letting anyone touch them but him. but you hadn't known when he'd be back, and emra needed her hand fixed, and he just... you were being so careful with her, treating her like the masterpiece that she was. he'll never say the words, but you'll know in the way he's gentler with you. the way his touch lingers, and the way golden strings always seem to coil around you whenever he's near.

THE DOLL MAKER — seems like the type of person who will only truly fall in love with someone who is as passionate about his work as he is. the moment he catches you carefully moving one of his dolls around like it was something to be treasured, or if you decide to make little accessories to match the outfits he designs... well, the wedding is already planned out in his head and he's wondering when to pop the question.

in all seriousness, he'd take his time before he ever told you how he felt. vine isn't experienced in the world of romance, so he doesn't know when the right timing would be to confess his love. he just hopes that it's something that he's made obvious in his other actions. but when he does decide to tell you those three words, he hopes that you'll say them back.

ZALGO — similarly to slender, did not think he could feel such an emotion. he was a being that transcended human understanding, after all. he made people go insane with a single thought, so how could he ever possibly feel something such as love? the mere idea was enough to have him laughing. no. something such as that wasn't possible. but then you come into his life. a strange, curious human with far too much confidence around an eldritch horror.

zalgo will make you understand the horrors that come with having him love you. you became a deity in the eyes of his numerous cults, essentially. there's no telling how many people have been sacrificed in your honor. how many loved ones you've lost, simply because you had made a creature beyond your understanding love you. it's not pretty. it's cruel, and gruesome, and you will never be able to leave him.

X-VIRUS — is that slow burn sort of realization. honestly, he seems like he's the type to be oblivious to romance unless it's laid on thick. to him, for a long time, you're just a really close friend who sometimes helps him with his experiments. cody will only realize his feelings for you if you start spending time with someone other than him. your absence is something he becomes painfully aware of, to the point that it makes it impossible to focus on anything.

he's not the possessive type by any means, but there's this feeling of jealousy in his gut when he sees you with someone else. that's when it clicks in his mind, 'oh. i'm in love.'. i want you to picture a classic friends to lovers romance, with a side of medical experimentation and murder. cody would like to think his confession was super romantic and the greatest thing ever, but no. no, he stumbles over his words, he's nervous, and he's just hoping you'll reciprocate his feelings.

LAUGHING JILL — finds herself falling in love with you when she realizes she can feel when you're around. the usual bitterness and anger that she felt on a constant always seemed to die down around you, and that joy that she came into existence with bubbled to the surface. it was childish, almost, the way she got excited whenever you wanted to include her in something. no matter how small, she took any excuse she could just to spend time with you.

it's too the point where jill feels as if she cannot exist without you. you've become so intertwined with her existence that she feels as if she'll die without you. it's unhealthy, and she knows this, but she finds it hard to care when the happiness you bring with you was just too addicting for her to give up.

CANDY POP — wasn't the type to grow attached to people easily. he had friends, sure, but it had taken him ages to actually refer to them as such. to him, everyone is a toy for him to play with however he pleases. you were meant to be just that, and yet you somehow turned the tables on him and he ended up falling in love with you like a pathetic fool. it's a realization that has him reeling, because he didn't think love was something he was capable of.

candy tries to be the picture perfect suitor you could only dream of having, he really does, but if you're not reciprocating his feelings within the first week of him confessing to you, he's dropping the act and just taking you for himself. you lost all choice in the matter the moment he entered your life, actually. and if you're really adamant on getting away from him, then trust that he will not hesitate to drag you into the abyss he's tethered to.

DR SMILEY — won't realize he's in love with you until you're already dead. you were just a victim of his that he kept around far longer than he normally did, but the silence that surrounded him when you were no longer around was... haunting. he tries to replace you, thinking another victim crying and begging for mercy would fill the silence but it just wasn't the same.

they didn't make his heart race the way you had. he didn't feel that excitement he had felt when he was with you. he won't call it love, but it was a strong enough feeling that it had him gathering the pieces of your body. he's a doctor. he'll stitch you back together, and bring you back to him. and when you wake from the dead to see the sharp smile of the man who killed you, you'll realize that there's truly no escaping him.

KAGEKAO — isn't a stranger to romance. he's had his fair share of relationships, what with sadie and then realizing he's gay and the awkward breakup that came with that, plus the numerous flings and situationships. you were meant to be nothing more than another situationship, and maybe even a victim if he got bored of you, but... that boredom never came. and neither did the end of your weird relationship.

kagekao somehow always ended up at your place whenever he wasn't off tormenting some poor soul. then he started to pop up whenever he was bored, and he'd somehow always end up staying the night. there were times when he'd even bring over some cheap takeout and wine. he knew he was gone when you rested your head on his lap while you two were watching some silent film, and the movie suddenly seemed irrelevant to the feeling of you. ah... you'll keep him entertained for a while, he's sure of it.

NATHAN THE NOBODY — is so obsessed with finding the people who kidnapped his sister that he never has the energy to focus on anything else. anyone he perceived to be part of the organization was an immediate target, and that's basically everyone he meets. so you have to be real special right off the bat for him to even not think about killing you. and lucky for you, you were his sister's best friend. you weren't part of the organization, you were safe. you could be trusted.

so when someone tries hurting you, it's like the entire world narrows down to that person. crystal would hate if anything happened to you, and nathan... seeing your face contort in pain had this sick feeling in his chest. you were terrified of him, the blood on his hands sticking to your skin as he pulls you into a suffocating hug, his heart pounding. the thought of losing you had never occurred to him, and while he doesn't label the feeling as love, he definitely doesn't plan on letting anything happen to you. no matter what, he'll keep you safe.

ZERO — cannot feel love the way other people feel it. love isn't even in her vocabulary. her only interest in this world is to kill anyone she comes across, to revel in their pain and agony because that's just how she is. yet somehow, she took an interest in you. you can kiss your normal life goodbye, because the moment she decides you're worth keeping around, she's not letting you go until she wants you dead. in her mind, you belong to her now.

so it's not love. not a healthy kind, at least. it's a desire to own, a need to claim. don't worry, though, she'll make sure to take good care of you. anyone who causes you trouble is nothing more than another story for the local news, and all she wants in return is a simple thank you and kiss on the cheek. she loves playing house with you! she'll be a great girlfriend as long as you play along.

JUDGE ANGELS — is wholly oblivious to romance as a whole. her entire life, she was sheltered. even years after becoming the murderer she is today, she never formed any bonds with people. none that were positive, at least. but then you came along. someone that dina found herself getting attached to the longer she spent time with you. she didn't understand why her heart raced whenever you got too close to her, and the feeling was overwhelming enough that she ended up pushing you away because she thought it was something bad.

with enough time, and exposure, she'll come to realize that the feelings she has for you aren't bad. she'll always be worrying about doing something wrong that'll make you hate her enough to leave her. you're the first person she's ever loved, the first person to love her. she can't lose that. just promise that you won't leave her, even if you stop loving her.

KATE THE CHASER — shouldn't have fallen in love to begin with. her sole reason of existence was slenderman, so she shouldn't care for anything else. she kept herself distant from the other proxies for that reason, because she didn't feel the need to connect with anyone. she was fine in her solitude. she wasn't meant to fall in love, so why does she feel so alive when you spend time with her?

you were always accommodating to her, visiting her when it was dark out and making sure you never shined your flashlight at her whenever you two went on walks through the forest. it's a relationship that will never work out, because proxies aren't meant to be anything but a vessel for slender. and yet, as time goes on, her feelings only get stronger and stronger, and she wonders... maybe it's okay to be selfish and indulge in you.

ROUGE THE PROXY — certainly didn't think she would fall in love after everything she's been through, and yet here she is, hovering around you like a guard dog as you dealt with the target you were meant to kill. she knew you could handle yourself, you're a proxy after all, yet she stood there, waiting. even after the mission was over, she would linger for a bit just to make sure you were safe.

her feelings for you are no secret. every proxy, including you, were aware of the special place you had in her heart. yet your relationship with her was so vague. she hasn't asked you out, but you two already act as if you're dating. it's this really strange 'will they, won't they' situation that all the proxies have made bets on. she's content with how things are now, though, so it might take time for her to actually verbalize her feelings for you.

TIM WRIGHT — is a little more confident before the events of marble hornets, so if he realizes he's in love with you during that time period, he won't have too much trouble telling you. maybe he'll need brian to hype him up a bit, and maybe he'll be a bit awkward when he does tell you that he's head over heels in love with you, but he still manages to tell you.

but tim during and after the events of marble hornets? total opposite. everyone he knew and loved died, and it's all his fault. how could he ever allow himself the privilege of your love when it's something he knows he doesn't deserve? even if you were to try and take the initiative, he'd turn you down. you can do so much better than him. getting close to him is basically signing your death certificate, and he's already lost so much. he's not sure if he can bear the pain of losing you, too.

BRIAN THOMAS — out of the entire marble hornets cast, save for maybe jessica, is the most in tune with his emotions. the moment he developed a romantic interest in you, he was asking you out. when he wasn't helping alex with marble hornets or hanging out with tim, he was taking you out on dates and solidifying his interest in you. he had actually planned on dropping the love bomb after the filming wrapped up, but...

even though he can't remember, he knows you. the man in the hoodie feels something for you. it's different from the protectiveness he feels for tim. for some reason, he doesn't want you involved in this mess. the moment jay reaches out to you and drags you in, he's doing everything he can to get you out. there were cryptic warnings directed towards you specifically, and when jay or tim weren't around, you'd sometimes catch him watching. you were scared, but you had made a vow that you wouldn't back out until you find brain.

JAY MERRICK — didn't think he'd really fall in love with someone while investigating the tapes, but he did. hard. he had met you early on since you were the first person part of the marble hornets crew he was able to get into contact with. it's almost scary how easily you guys hit it off. before things went to shit, jay really thought you two would become good friends. and unfortunately, jay doesn't realize he's in love with you until he's dying.

his entire life flashed before his eyes the moment alex shot that gun, and all he could think about was you. you, who stood by his side throughout this whole experience. you, who desperately tried to keep him from getting in too deep. you, who he had carelessly shrugged off because the operator's influence was far too strong. he can only hope you make it out of this hell alive.

ALEX KRALIE — will never realize he's in love with you post-operator. the feelings will be there, but he's already too far gone to go deep into what they might mean. all he knows is that he's desperate to kill you first, to get you out of this mess early on. it's because you two are close friends, that's all. and the hollow feeling left afterwards if he's successful is a price he's willing to pay.

but pre-operator alex will find himself falling in love with you when you support his passions. the moment he talks about marble hornets with you, you're passionate about supporting him, and it had him getting all nervous. he'll even offer you a role in the project, either as an actor or just crew if you're not comfortable with being filmed. anything to be able to spend more time with you. he had planned on asking you out on an official date when filming wrapped up.

JESSICA LOCKE — is stuttering over her own words the moment she locks eyes with you for the first time, because she is just that captivated by you. it's not love at first sight, but she definitely wants to take you out on a date. it's only with amy's encouragement that she actually does, and you two just... naturally hit it off that it sorta became a casual thing.

but she realizes she's in love with you when all this shit with marble hornets has blown over, and you're the first person she thinks of. she'd been missing for months, and you probably thought she had ghosted you. it's a little mortifying, honestly. she can't explain what happened, but she hopes you'll be willing to let her back into your life. because she really really really wants to be your girlfriend.

[rafes-slut]

Rafe x Pouge Reader request (pretty please)

He’s never made her feel like she does not belong in his world or by his side, but she slowly and slowly starts feeling like she has no place by his side and people make it known she’s not wanted there. Maybe Kook people ask these ‘’touchpoint’’ questions to see what her status is and when it’s revelaed everytime she’s a Pouge, the vibe/energy shifts and they longer are interested in talking to her, making passive aggressive comments about her clothes etc. Some gossip girl inspo but maybe a super old money grandma of Rafe’s straight up says like ‘’You don’t belong here. We may all speak English but YOU will never understand us. Do him a favor and let go of him. He belongs with girls like -------cue perfect rich girl’’. LOTS of angst and Reader storming out in tears, breaking up with him but he does not let her, not in a toxic way more like ‘’if you said you didn’t love me anymore fine, but I won’t loose you over this’’

Foreign Tongue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!You

Warnings: Angst, classism, emotional distress, social exclusion, elitism, tension, language, hurt/comfort, crying, protective Rafe, break-up attempt, possessive but not toxic behavior, mentions of alcohol, mentions of family pressure, insecurity/self-doubt.

You never thought they’d get to you.

Rafe had never made you feel like an outsider. Not once. Not when you showed up to Figure Eight parties in your thrifted dresses and worn-in sneakers. Not when he introduced you to his friends, his world, his life. You’d always felt… safe with him. Like you belonged.

But that was before you realized people were only waiting for you to slip. Watching. Waiting. Judging.

And it started slow.

Touchpoint questions, Rafe had called them once, laughing about how Kook moms gossiped. You thought they were harmless — until you noticed what they were actually doing.

“Where did you say you went to school again?”

“Oh, is that… on The Cut?”

“I’ve never been to that beach. That’s… interesting.”

And then it would come. Every time.

“So, you’re a Pogue?”

Like a record scratch. And you’d nod, because what else could you do.

The vibe always shifted. Eyes flicked over your outfit — cheap, wrong. Polite smiles turned into passive-aggressive digs. Conversations suddenly “had to be continued.” People walking away mid-sentence, leaving you standing there with your drink and a fake smile that started to feel like a mask slipping.

You tried to ignore it. Tried to tell yourself that as long as Rafe was by your side, none of it mattered. But it did. God, it did.

The final straw was the brunch. You shouldn’t have gone, but Rafe wanted you there, so you said yes.

It was all white linen tablecloths and laughter that didn’t feel real. You were just trying to make it through when she approached — his grandmother. The one with pearls around her neck and disdain in her eyes.

She sat beside you like a queen addressing a peasant, her words dipped in venom masked by a smile.

“You know, dear…” Her hand touched yours, ice-cold and unwelcome.

“We may all speak English, but you’ll never understand us.”

Her eyes, sharp and cold, bore into yours.

“Do him a favor and let him go. He belongs with girls like Katherine.”

You blinked.

Katherine. Tall, blonde, perfect. A girl who’d been circling Rafe like a vulture, smiling at you like she already knew you were temporary.

You didn’t stay long after that. You couldn’t. Your heart was hammering in your chest, shame burning your cheeks, vision swimming.

You stormed out, tears hot and fast, pushing past Rafe who’d been deep in conversation, unaware. He called your name, but you didn’t stop.

He caught up to you outside, grabbing your wrist, breathless.

“Hey—hey, what happened?” His voice was tight, scared.

You couldn’t look at him. “I can’t do this anymore, Rafe.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t belong here,” you choked out, voice breaking. “I never did.”

“Bullshit.” He stepped in front of you, forcing you to face him. “Who said that to you?”

“It doesn’t matter!” You yanked your hand from his. “Everyone thinks it. Everyone knows it. Your grandma basically told me I was—trash.”

His jaw clenched, rage flickering in his eyes, but he focused on you. “She’s wrong. They all are.”

You shook your head, backing away. “This is your world, Rafe. I don’t fit in. You deserve someone who—who understands it.”

His hands fisted at his sides, trembling. “If you told me you didn’t love me anymore—fine. I’d let you go.” His voice cracked then, raw and low. “But I’m not losing you because of them.”

You stared at him, heart breaking, torn.

He stepped closer, cupping your face with shaky hands, eyes searching yours. “I love you. You’re my world. I don’t care about them. Don’t let them take you from me.”

Silence stretched between you. The wind carried the sound of laughter from inside, cruel and distant.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you didn’t pull away.

And slowly, Rafe leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his breath shaky.

“I’m yours. Always. Don’t leave me.”

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

7: THE CAT’S APPROVAL

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Summary: Bucky invites you to his apartment for the first time, but it’s not just his approval you’re worried about— it’s Alpine’s. To your relief, the notoriously picky feline curls up in your lap, and even Bucky is taken aback. The two of you settle in for a quiet night, sharing coffee, memories, and vulnerabilities.

Warnings: Discussions of grief/loss, Steve Rogers mention, mentions of past emotional abuse/manipulation, light angst, introspection, and emotional vulnerability, fake dating shenanigans turning into real feelings, soft Bucky & affectionate Alpine

Word Count: 3339

“8 PM. MY PLACE. DON’T MAKE ME TEXT YOU.”

“YOU KNOW I’LL MAKE YOU.”

For the first time Bucky agreed to a meeting in his apartment. You were burning with curiosity to see inside. In the past, you’d barely gotten a glimpse inside before he would slam the door shut, so to have finally gained an invitation felt like a big win. Or at least it would have done if you weren’t feeling so anxious.

Bucky opened the door and you stepped inside and the voice inside your head piped up again. You tried to ignore it, looking around at the sparsely furnished living room, but it was getting louder than ever. This time it wasn’t about Bucky, in fact you’d actually started feeling quite comfortable around him— no, this was about Alpine. The small white cat’s approval felt like it carried an absurd amount of importance in your mind, even though you couldn’t quite explain why. Maybe it was because Bucky clearly adored her, or maybe it was because it was easier to think about impressing a cat than the man standing a few feet away. Either way, you took a deep breath and tried to steady your nerves.

“So,” you said, toeing off your shoes and padding across the room to the couch. “We’ve been dating for, what, six months now? Taking it slow, keeping it caszh. Have we said ‘I love you’ yet?”

Bucky shot you a deadpan look from behind his kitchen island. “Probably not.”

You grinned, making yourself comfortable and then leaned over the back to the couch to talk to him. “Come on, you’re a big ‘ole softie inside. I bet you’d be the first one to say it, too.”

He muttered something, but you couldn’t quite catch it over the sound of his coffee maker. You were just settling back into the couch cushions when you caught the soft patter of paws. You turned your head in time to see Alpine pounce onto the coffee table.

“Hi, Alpine,” you whispered, nervously.

To your shock and Bucky’s— judging by the way he froze on the other side of kitchen island— Alpine made a beeline straight for you. She pranced up onto the couch and into your lap with grace, kneading your thighs with her tiny paws. After a few moments, she curled up and let out a contented purr, promptly falling asleep.

Bucky stood in front of you, holding two mugs of coffee, disbelief etched across his features. “Well this is a first. She doesn’t normally do that.”

“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stroked Alpine’s back.

“I’ve seen her— normally she tries to scratch your eye out if people try to pick her up. She doesn’t trust people… not like that.” He tried to point at Alpine in your lap but only succeeded in making the coffee slosh round and spill over the edges. “Shit,” he mumbled before trying to wipe the streaks of coffee on the side of the mug with his sleeve before setting it on the table beside you.

Bucky sat down beside you, his eyes flicking between you and Alpine, as though trying to find an explanation for his cat’s behavior. A silence fell between you and you suddenly felt compelled to fill it. 

“So, how did you meet Sam?”

The question had sounded so innocent in your head. What Bucky said next was unexpected.

“I didn’t meet Sam,” Bucky started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he stared into his steaming mug. “He was just there… with Steve. Like a shadow I couldn't shake.” Bucky huffed a small laugh. “One minute, I’m waking up with my arm in a vice, Steve’s giving me the third degree, and Sam’s standing off to the side, arms crossed, looking at me like I killed his dog.”

You watched Bucky intently— Alpine still sleeping soundly in your lap— sensing that there was more to the story.

“Steve trusted him so… I was just supposed to. But the thing about Sam is that he doesn't hold back and he wasn’t afraid to tell me what he thought of me— which, spoiler, wasn’t much.”

“Sounds about right,” you snorted.

Bucky’s mouth twitched a little despite himself. “Then the next thing I know, we’re on the run. Steve’s dragging me around, trying to keep me out of trouble, and there’s Sam, tagging along like he’s somehow part of the package deal. He wasn’t thrilled about it. Neither was I. We didn’t exactly hit it off.”

“I mean, I can see his point of view.”

“Ever tried squeezing into a car with someone who thinks you’re a ticking time bomb? Let’s just say he wasn’t shy about letting me know where I stood.”

You giggled softly, trying to avoid moving and disturbing Alpine’s slumber.

Bucky softened a little as he went on. “But… he had Steve’s back, and that meant he had mine too. Even if he didn’t trust me, he showed up. Things got pretty messy and… he didn’t hesitate to fight for us. Even if he was really annoying.”

“Were you jealous that Steve had another friend?” you asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

Bucky froze, his mug of coffee at his lips, effectively hiding the change in his expression. He made a show of taking a sip before he answered you. “No,” he said flatly, not meeting your gaze.

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, leaning closer. “You weren’t just the tiniest bit jealous that someone else was playing sidekick to your best friend?”

Bucky scowled, but there was no real menace in his face. “I was… cautious. He wasn’t the kind of guy who I’d expect Steve to run with.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep contemplative breath. “Steve was my family,” he said quietly. “For a long time, he was the only family I had. So yeah, maybe it was… weird. Watching him find someone else to have his back. But…”

“But?”

“Sam’s a good guy. And… as much as I hate to admit it, Steve made the right call. He’s loyal. And stubborn. And…” His lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “He annoys the hell out of me. But he’s earned his place.”

You grinned. “Sounds like you actually like him.”

“Don’t push it,” Bucky muttered, but the shy smile and warmth in his voice betrayed his real feelings.

You looked down at Alpine, not at Bucky when you said your next words. They were quiet and careful. “How come you never talk about Steve?”

For a short time only Alpine’s soft snores filled the silence, the rise and fall of her little body grounding you while you waited for Bucky to respond. You glanced over at him and caught the way his jaw clenched as he stared at the television, his mind lost to the past. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said at last, his voice low, almost reluctant. “It’s that I don’t know how to.”

You remained silent, giving him the space to share further if he wanted.

“I spent half my life with Steve…” Bucky whispered, so softly that you could hardly hear him. “And the other half… not knowing him, or what he meant to me. The brainwashing… it took everything from me. And then by the time I got it back, there was Thanos and the Blip and I didn’t exist for five years and then he was just… gone.”

You could see his metal hand resting on his knee, the light reflecting off the gold as he clenched it into a fist. “Now when I think about him, the memories… they don’t… they aren’t what they used to be. And now he’s not here to remind me of what’s real and what I’m missing.”

Your chest ached at his words, but you didn’t interrupt. You just kept stroking Alpine’s fur, having something to focus on to stop your eyes welling with tears.

“I don’t talk about Steve because it hurts,” Bucky said finally, his voice rough around the edges. “And I’m scared that if I start, I won’t stop. That all the good parts of him will get lost in… everything else.”

You nodded, your chest tight with sadness for him. But despite this, you were burning with curiosity. The most you had heard was that Steve Rogers had retired, handing over the mantle of Captain America. There were hundreds of theories online about the whereabouts of Steve Rogers, including one absurd theory suggesting that he now lived on the moon. But the way Bucky spoke about him made you wonder if he was someone even further away…

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to talk about him if you’re not ready.”

This time he turned to you, his eyes glistening softly. “It’s not about being ready. It’s about…”

“Holding onto what you have?” you guessed astutely.

He blinked at you, surprised, before nodding slowly. “Yeah. Something like that.”

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you leaned towards him— slowly, tentatively, you reached over and took his hand— his vibranium palm, closest to you. The metal felt cool against your skin and for a moment you worried that you had crossed a line

He looked down with surprise but for once he didn’t pull away, letting his fingers gently close around yours, savoring the quiet moment of connection. Neither of you spoke, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable, the kind that was more meaningful than words could convey.

He exhaled, a slow steadying breath, and the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

“Steve was lucky to have you,” you said just as quietly.

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at the edges of his mouth. “I think it was the other way around.”

Before either of you could say more, Alpine stirred from her spot on your lap and stretched lazily, back arching before she stepped off you. You watched as she ambled toward Bucky, her fluffy tail swaying gracefully. She walked straight into his arms, her blue eyes fixed on his face, as though she could see everything he was trying so hard to hide.

“What’s up, girl?” he murmured.

Alpine didn’t answer, of course. She simply hopped up onto his lap, kneading his chest with her tiny paws before curling against him, her head nuzzled into the crook of his arm. It caught him off guard, but slowly he sighed and relaxed again, letting his right hand sink into her silky white fur. His movements were careful, almost uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure that he deserved her affection, but was grateful for it, all the same.

“She’s got good instincts,” you smiled, watching the way Alpine nestled into him, comforting him in her own way.

“You sure? I mean she fell asleep on you. That’s questionable survival skills, right there.”

You huffed a laugh, mock indignation betrayed by your smile. You didn’t take him too seriously, especially as he hadn’t let go of your hand.

Suddenly, Bucky cleared his throat, shifting in his seat so he could hold Alpine more comfortably. Reluctantly, you slipped your hand out of his but took the opportunity to curl your legs under you and shuffle closer to him. He watched you intently, surprised that you weren’t trying to run away from him. He cleared his throat, eager to steer the conversation away from himself.

“Yeah, I think that’s enough about me. What about you? Shouldn’t I know how you met your friends?”

“They’re the best,” you smiled as you thought of them. “So, Hanna and I met in middle school— we were on the track team together. And Aditi, I’ve known her even longer. We used to go to the same summer camp every year. She finally moved closer to us, and by high school, the three of us were inseparable.”

“Must’ve been nice,” Bucky said quietly.

“It was,” you agreed. “Things changed a little when Hanna and Aditi started dating, though. I mean, I was happy for them—they’re perfect together—but sometimes it made me feel a little... left out, I guess. Like they had this deeper connection that I couldn’t be part of. But they always tried to include me. They’re good people.”

“That’s gotta feel weird, though,” Bucky said, his voice thoughtful. “Being close to people and still feeling... I don’t know. Separate.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s not like they’ve ever pushed me away or anything. Things just… shifted. They became this ‘unit’ and I wasn’t sure where I fit anymore.”

Bucky tilted his head, his brows knitting together. He watched how you opened your mouth slightly and he could tell there was something else you were thinking about saying, so he stayed silent, giving you the opportunity to express yourself.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m alone… always will be.”

“What about your family?”

“My parents died really soon after I was born. My grandmother raised me but she… passed away a few years ago. I really miss her,” you said sadly.

Bucky looked like he wanted to reach out to you, but he didn’t have the confidence to move, so instead he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You took a deep, steadying breath. “That’s why Aditi and Hanna are so important to me. They’re the only people I have right now. They’ve always been there for me, even when I felt like I was intruding, like I didn’t belong. But I think that was more in my head than anything they ever did. They never stopped trying to include me, even when I was being stubborn about it.”

A faint smile crossed his lips. “Sounds like they care about you.”

“They do. They’re the kind of friends who’ll drop everything if I need them. And I’d do the same for them. That’s why this whole wedding thing has me all stressed out. I don’t want them to think I’m a complete disaster.”

Bucky snorted at that, shaking his head. “I think they already know you’re a disaster.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he added, a teasing glint in his eye, “if they’ve stuck with you this long, a little wedding drama isn’t gonna scare them off.”

“What if they’re disappointed in me?” you asked hesitantly.

Bucky tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading as he caught the shift in your tone. “Why would they be disappointed?”

You shrugged, though the weight of the thought pressed hard against your chest. “I don’t know. I guess... I feel like I haven’t figured everything out yet. They’re getting married, starting this whole new chapter together, and here I am, dragging them into this ridiculous lie because I couldn’t just show up alone.”

He watched you closely. “They love you, right?”

“Of course,” you said without missing a beat. “They’re my best friends.”

“Then they won’t care about any of that,” he said firmly, leaning forward slightly. “Look, I don’t know them, but from the way you talk about them, it doesn’t seem like they’re the type to judge you by whether you’ve got your life all neatly packaged up. And if they did? Well, then they wouldn’t deserve to have you in theirs.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. Taking a moment, you let his words sink him. “I guess I just don’t want to feel like I’m letting them down. Or... like I’m still stuck in the same place while they’re moving forward.”

“Maybe it’s not about keeping up. Maybe it’s about showing up.”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “You’re not a dumb as you look, Barnes.”

Bucky shook his head at you, going back to scratching Alpine behind her ears and a silence fell between you as you thought about your current situation and your friends’ reaction.

“Do you think I should come clean?”

The question lingered in the air between you. For a moment, Bucky didn’t answer, but you could see the muscles in his jaw working over time. When he finally spoke but his tone was cold, too casual. “I think you should do whatever makes this easier for you.”

You frowned, not missing the unease in his expression. “That’s not really an answer, Barnes.”

He shrugged, clearly not eager to push further. But then, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he asked, “Well, why did you feel like you had to lie to them in the first place?”

You shifted, uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. “It’s not like I planned this,” you said slowly. “It just sorta... happened. One little comment, then another, and suddenly, I’m the one with this perfect boyfriend no one’s ever met.”

Bucky tilted his head, studying you. “Okay, but why?”

You exhaled sharply, folding your arms across your chest. “Because... because it’s exhausting, alright? The constant questions, the pitying looks, the subtle digs. ‘Oh, you’re still single?’ ‘Maybe you’re being too picky’. Like there’s something wrong with me because I can’t find a suitable partner.”

His blue eyes softened. “So, you lied to avoid feeling like a loser.”

“Basically,” you muttered, feeling more ashamed now that you’d said it out loud. “It was easier than admitting I’m still figuring things out. Being with Leonard… what he was like… I—”

You missed the way Bucky’s expression darkened, his fist clenched when you mentioned Leonard’s name. He said nothing, letting you continue.

“I spent so much time trying to make it work with him,” you continued, feeling your voice falter slightly. “I ignored so many red flags, everything was always his way or the highway. He always made me feel like I was… less than. And for some reason, I kept excusing his behavior. He made me feel like he was being all honorable by putting up with all my flaws. 

“And then— when it was over, I just…” you shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess I was trying to convince myself that everything was back under my control… when it wasn’t. I’m still figuring out who I am without him around, and sometimes I feel like I’m failing at it. And I didn’t want anyone to see that. Not even Hanna and Aditi.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened further, but this time it wasn’t from anger— it was understanding. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment as he processed your words, his mind clearly elsewhere, in a time and place far darker than yours. Alpine burrowed further into his chest, sensing the change in him.

“I get it,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. “Having someone—  something— makes you feel like you’re not in control of your own choices, your own thoughts. Like you’re a puppet and someone else’s pulling the strings.”

His vibranium fingers twitched as if trying to push away the memory, but he was still lost in it.

“And you’re right,” he went on after a beat, his voice growing softer. “It’s easy to try to convince yourself you’re fine, that you have everything under control. Even easier to convince the people around you. But the truth is… sometimes it’s not okay. And you’re left trying to piece everything back together and you don’t even know where to start.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a strange sense of connection you hadn’t expected.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your voice cracking slightly. “I guess I just wanted to feel normal. Which is why I did it. Like, do you know what it’s like having these perfect best friends? With their perfect lives? And constantly feeling like a failure when you stand next to them? Like they have each other and it’s beautiful and incredible and you’re just standing outside of it… alone.”

Bucky turned over and looked you directly in the eyes and with a deadpan face said, “Sweetheart, both my best friends are Captain America.”

You looked back at him for a moment before you both burst out laughing, much to poor Alpine’s chagrin.

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Posting schedule will be Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays around 2.30pm EST / 11.30am PST / 7.30pm BST

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #5 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been an entire month since your argument with Toji. Neither of you had said a word to each other, not even when he comes to pick up or drop off the kids. He keeps his distance, not bothering to wait by the door with them, instead he waits on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to them when you open the door. It seems like the kids haven’t took notice of the hostility between you and your ex husband and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want them to witness anymore than they already have. Occasionally, Naya asks if she can go over Toji’s more often, growing an attachment to her father, but you always have to explain to her that he’s busy working during the week. It breaks your heart knowing that your children aren’t growing up with a fully family. You know deep down, they question why they have to go back and forth between houses just to see their father, or wondering why their mommy and daddy aren’t together like the other kids. But knowing how young they are, they wouldn’t understand a single thing. Hopefully when they’re older, they’ll learn from the mistakes you and Toji have made.

You and Nanami have been going strong recently, finding that he makes you forget about the hardships in your life. He hasn’t met the kids yet, which you don’t plan on letting happen anytime soon. He’s a nice guy, great intentions, but you want to take things slow before overstepping your own boundaries. He has took you out on two more dates ever since the first one, and each time he impresses you more and more. It feels like you can be open with him, comfortable without getting judged. He’s also a great listener, not saying a word and just letting you vent all of your feelings out until you feel better. He puts a smile on your face when he knows you’re feeling down or thinking about something that stresses you out. And most of all, he doesn’t mention what happened that morning when Toji showed up at your house. You know he heard most of everything and it was embarrassing to say the least. Toji embarrassed you.

“Mommy, can I go see daddy?” You daughter tapped your leg as you were cutting up her and megumi some fruit to snack on.

You looked down at her with a soft smile. “Tomorrow, baby. You’re gonna see him tomorrow.” You popped a raspberry in her mouth, her favorite fruit.

“Dad’s been drinking a lot.” Megumi walked into the kitchen, stealing a piece of pineapple off of the cutting board.

“What do you mean?” You immediately question, placing the knife down.

“Beer. He gets uncle Gojo to buy it for him and drinks a whole bunch,” he explained. Your lips pursed together, inhaling deeply before you let out a frustrated sigh. You shook your head in disappointment, trying not to show the anger flowing through you right now.

“So can we go see him? I’m worried!” You daughter batted her eyelashes at you, a small frown on her face. No wonder she’s been asking to see Toji so much, it all makes sense now.

“How about you guys call him to say goodnight, mommy isn’t driving right now. Plus, it’s late.” You picked up the knife, cutting more pineapple into smaller chunks.

“Please! Please! Please, mommy!” You daughter grabbed onto the hem of your shirt, nearly ripping it off of you with the way she was begging.

“Naya, cut it out! Mom said no!” Megumi slightly raised his voice, an annoyed look on his face.

“I wasn’t asking you, dummy!” Her brows furrowed in anger, her gaze now on her brothers.

“Shut up, idiot!” Megumi shouted back.

“Aye! Cut the shit!” You warned, sharing looks between both of them. Naya huffed, stomping her little feet over to the living room. “I don’t need you guys calling each other names, alright? Naya, I said no, and that means no. And Megs, stop being mean.”

“She called me it first!” He exclaimed.

“I don’t care who did it first! I don’t need y���all fighting. Naya, come here!” You shouted from the kitchen. “Eh, stay here.” You pointed at Megumi when he tried to walk away. He let out an annoyed sigh leaning against the counter. “Naya!” She turned the corner with a frown on her face, eyes watery as she looked up at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” As soon as you asked her that question she burst into tears. Before you could even place the knife down, Megumi picked her up and held her in his arms while she cried.

“Ny-ny, what’s wrong? I’m sorry I called you an idiot, okay? I was mad, but I shouldn’t have said that,” he said softly, rubbing her back as she cried on his shoulder. The little girl hiccuped softly, wrapping her arms around her brothers neck tightly. “Do you wanna tell mommy what’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her. He brought his hand up to her face, wiping the tears.

“Da…daddy!” She sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “I wanna see…daddy!” Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks as she laid her head back on her brothers shoulder. Megumi turned to look at you, and you could see that he was also worried about his father, even if he wasn’t as vocal as it. “Mommy!” She cried.

You reached your hands out, picking her up from Megumi and holding her to your chest. “You really wanna see daddy?” You asked, wiping off her tears with your shirt. She nodded, still whimpering and sniffling. She rubbed her puffy eyes, little fists holding onto the fabric of your shirt. “Okay, we’ll go see daddy then. Megs, put your shoes on.”

You held Naya’s hand as you walked up the steps with them. She had a little smile on her face, excited to all hell to see her father. Megumi rang the doorbell, waiting patiently with you in the cold. “You excited, huh?” You chuckled, looking down at your daughter.

“Who is it?” Toji’s deep voice spoke from the other side of the door.

“Dad, it’s us!” Megumi answered. You were a little nervous to see him, knowing that this was going to be an unexpected surprise, but you had a very valid reason for showing up here. Toji unlocked the door, confusion written all over his face when he seen you and his two kids standing outside in the cold. He barely had time to register the situation before Naya ran over to him and hugged him.

“Daddy!” She yelled followed by a giggle.

“Hey, peanut!” He picked her up like she weighed nothing, sitting her on his hip and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “What’re doing here so early, huh?” He asked with a smile.

“She’s been asking about you all day…all week actually,” you spoke. “She started crying cause she missed you so much, so I brought her over here,” you explained.

Naya fiddled with her dads lip scar, as Toji stood there and stared at you for a few minutes. It’s like he almost forgot how you sounded, it’s been so long. “Well, uh, would you like to come in or are you just dropping them off?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’ll come in.” The only reason you accepted was because you wanted to speak to him about his drinking problem that Megumi suddenly brought up.

“Hi, buddy.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair, giving him a kiss on top of his head. He closed the door behind you, your eyes immediately taking notice of the four beer cans that sat on his coffee table. A rush of disappointment came washing over you as you continued to stare at them. “Don’t mind the mess,” he awkwardly chuckled, quickly trying to clean up as he sat Naya down on the couch.

You stuffed your hands in your coat pocket, standing in the middle of the living room as he grabbed the cans and quickly took them into the kitchen. “I told you,” Megumi whispered. Toji walked back into the living room, looking at you.

“So, uh, she was crying you said?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “she…she was like full on sobbing for you. Scared me shitless at first if I’m being honest.”

“Ny-ny, you can’t be scaring mommy like that.” Toji walked over, pinching her cheeks until she giggled. You watched the scene in front of you, seeing the smile on your daughter’s face when she was with Toji made your heart swell. “If you want, I can take them early, and come pick up their stuff tomorrow. You look…tired.”

You shrugged. “Just a little. It’s been a long week.” Toji nodded in agreement, standing back up right as all you stood there in silence while the two kids watched whatever was on the tv. “Toji, can I speak with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s up?” He asked.

“In private.” You stared at him.

“Um, yeah. Megs, Ny, stay here, okay? Watch whatever you wanna watch.” He smiled at them.

“Megs, can we watch The Incredibles again?” Naya clung to her brothers arm as he grabbed the remote.

You followed Toji down the hallway to his bedroom. “How have you been?” You asked, shutting the door behind you.

“Me? I’ve been fine. How are you?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your eyes were locked onto him as you stood there by the door. Toji had a confused expression on his face. “Something wrong?”

“How have you been, Toji?” This time you asked with more sternly, clenching your jaw.

“I don’t get…I don’t get it.” He looked around the room as if he was being pranked, awkwardly rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Megs told me about your drinking problem. You got Gojo going out and buying beer for you all the time? Getting drunk when the kids are here?! I can smell it on your breath!” You yelled in a whisper, folding your arms across your chest.

“I only drink enough to get tipsy, okay? I wouldn’t get drunk around the kids, y/n,” he sighed, holding his head in his hands.

You scoff, “like that makes it any better. Naya keeps asking about you because she’s worried, crying her eyes out because of it, because she misses you. Megumi doesn’t say a word about how he feels, but I can tell he’s scared, Toji. You had four beers on the fucking coffee table when I walked in!” You exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m dealing with shit, y/n.” He rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor.

“We are all dealing with shit, Toji, but you gotta be there for our kids! I’m not here to argue with you, okay? I just want to know what is going on. The kids want to know what’s going on.” You looked at him with concern as he avoided your gaze completely, head still hung low.

“I can’t say it.” Toji looked up, finally locking eyes with you.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because it won’t matter, y/n. I’ve made mistakes, and I’m dealing with them. That’s all there is to it.” He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes.

Your expression softened. There was no need for Toji to explain what he was talking about because you already knew. He was talking about you guys, your relationship, your marriage, your family. “It wasn’t just you, Toji,” you spoke softly. “It was me too. We grew apart. It happens.”

He shook his head. “You were only acting that way because of how I was treating you. It’s not your fault so don’t say it was, please. I’m the one who fucked it up. Back then I fucked it up, and now I’m fucking it up. Every time I got something good going on I find a way to ruin it.”

“Toji…” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He stood up from his spot on the bed and walked towards you, his muscular and tall frame trapping you against the door. “I’m sorry. I miss you, I miss what we had, mama. You gotta understand me.” He cupped your face in his hands.

“No, no, don’t do that.” You shook your head, removing his hands from you.

“Do what, mama?” He asked softly.

“That, Toji.” You kept shaking your head at him. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“Why not? Hm?” He tried to catch your eye.

“I’m with someone else,” you bluntly said. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, almost deafening in your ears as you stood there against the door. There was nothing but silence from Toji. He took a step back from you.

“Is it him?” Toji asked. All you did was nod. He scoffed. “So y’all are really together?”

“Yeah, we are,” you answered. “He treats me good, makes me happy.”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” Toji questioned.

“I didn’t say that!” You looked at him in disbelief.

“That’s not what you said the last time we spoke to each other. What you said fucking hurt me. You hate me. You wish you never married me. Remember that?” Toji cocked his head to the side.

“I was upset, Toji.” You rolled your eyes.

“You just don’t say shit like that, y/n. Never once in our entire relationship together have I said some shit like that to you.” He stood there, waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! I came here because Naya was worried about you and Megumi told me about your drinking problem. That’s all I came to talk about! I didn’t come to talk about what we had going on, okay? So just fucking drop it. I’m happier, I’m better. I’m getting treated the way I deserve to be treated for the first time in my life." You snapped.

“For the first time in your life? Are you hearing how you sound right now? I know I wasnt perfect, but I did everything I could to make you happy. Yes, there were some things I could’ve done better, but I loved you like you were supposed to be loved. Why else would I marry you?” Toji walked towards you again.

“Then you should’ve showed that love. Just know I’ll be better without you.” You opened the bedroom door, walking down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Toji shouted. He followed after you as you ignored him. “Y/n!” He shouted again.

“Stop following me, Toji! I’m leaving!” You screamed.

Megumi and Naya looked over at both of you, seeing you two yelling. “I’m not done talking to you!” Toji grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“Well, I am!” You snatched your arm back from him.

“Stop it!” Megumi yelled, covering his little sisters ears.

You and Toji looked over at the kids sitting on the couch, Naya’s eyes watery, lip wobbly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Megumi shared looks between both of you, concern and fear written on his face. “Come on, let’s go back home. You’ll see daddy tomorrow.”

“I wanna stay!” Naya pouted.

“Naya, please, get in the car.” You sighed in frustration, grabbing her hand.

“No! No!” She started screaming, dropping to the floor and kicking around, throwing a tantrum.

“Get up, Naya! I’m not gonna ask you again!” You lifted her off of the floor, grabbing her hand again. She pulled away from you, running over to Toji, hugging his legs.

“Fine. Fine. Stay with your father. I’ll see both of you in a few days. I love you.” You grabbed your keys from your coat pocket, walking to the front door, slamming it shut behind you.

“Come here, baby girl.” Toji picked his daughter up.

“You two always fight! I hate it!” Megumi stormed out of the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, making Naya jump. Toji stood there in the living room with his daughter, a lump forming in his throat. He let out a choked sob, immediately hiding his face from his daughter.

“Daddy, don’t cry.” She wiped his tears away.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He sniffled. Your family was falling apart right in front of Toji’s eyes. Megumi is looking for a way out of this family at such a young age, indulging in video games and tv to drown out the real problems. Naya conflicted with her feelings, crying constantly because of the state both of you were in, affecting her. Nothing is like it was before. Toji hated this was happening. This is was last thing he ever wanted.

You sat in your car outside of his house, wiping your tears from how overwhelmed you were. You were at a loss on how to fix this. Each time you tried, it ended the same. You were fearful it was going to keep getting worse, worse until there was no way to reverse the damage done.

series masterlist

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[risuola]

▶ BOYFRIENDS — two is better than one.

contents: college+roommates!au, alcohol consumption, college party kind of situation, groping mentioned — wc. 845

a/n: you were voting in the poll and picked the stsg protecting the reader from the drunk so there we go! our boys making sure we're safe!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“C’mon cutie, it’s jus’ a dance.”

You’re far from being a mind reader. Sometimes you struggle with getting the point of something someone is telling you straight on, but this time you were sure it wasn’t a dance the man wanted from you.

A thick stench of alcohol saturated the air whenever he was leaning towards you, rendering the oxygen useless because you’d rather suffocate than introduce that toxic waste into your lungs. You were trapped, between the counter in a small, dorm kitchen and a guy you recognized from a sport’s team popular in your college. He’s not the top dog, average at most, but famous nonetheless and apparently such condition turned his ears deaf to any sort of refusal. The small of your back burned in the place where he glued his hand and it wasn’t a pleasant type of burn.

“I’m not gonna dance with you, get away, creep,” you scoffed, frowning upon the stubborn behavior and pressing the open palm of your hand against his chest, trying to put your strength against his own. No luck there, he didn’t budge the slightest.

“Hard to get, huh? I like that,” he grinned and next thing you noticed was a hand on your butt, squeezing the flesh like an orange. You flinched at the feeling, digging your nails into his forearm, doing about as much damage as a little kitten. That’s why you didn’t like college parties. “You sure are a feisty one, aren’t you?”

“Get. Off.” A groan left your throat and your fist clenched to your side. A knee itched to meet his crotch, a drink in your hand begged to be spilled over his stupid face and wash off his stupid smile, maybe even refresh his stinky breath a little.

You thought about violence, your body tensed and muscles contracted, getting ready for a strike, but then, you heard a hum. Soft, melodic, like a cotton and silk, soothing your nerves and making you relax. The sound made you stop; it made the drunk stop as well and your position shifted.

“Does my beautiful mochi have a problem here?”

You could physically feel how Satoru removed the unwanted hand from your rear and the wince on the boy’s face in front of you told you his grip was much heavier than the tone of his voice suggested. Then, your friend wrapped his arms around your waist, effectively pulling you out of the toxic orbit; your back met his wide chest and his chin dropped to rest on your shoulder. His bright blue eyes sized the guy in front of you from above the dark shades he wore that night and you noticed him smiling. It was confident, it was judging and so very challenging. You could tell he wished to get down and dirty with the drunk.

“And you are—?”

“Her boyfriend. Back off.”

“Boyfriend, huh? Bullshit,” the boy scoffed, clearly unable to comprehend the danger he put himself in. He hiccupped drunkenly and then found Suguru in the crowd, pointing at him. “That bitch told my friend her boyfriend is that guy.”

Satoru hummed again, amused, and then chuckled vividly. You felt his embrace tightening protectively around you and his fluffy hair tickling the side of your face. As if summoned, Geto made his way towards you and soon he joined your other side.

“Suguru, this guy over there called our girlfriend a bitch and dared to lay a hand over her ass,” Gojo painted the picture with a sweetly threatening tone and even pouted a little for the added effect.

“Oh yeah?” Brunette mused, raising an eyebrow and you heard a soft crack of his bones when he tilted his head to one side and then the other, stretching his neck. Oh, how menacing. “It can’t be.”

You watched as confusion washed over the features in front of you. The guy was drunk, but it seemed as if the dots were finally connecting in his brain, as if the message was reaching and realization was sinking in — very likely the sound of Suguru’s cracking knuckles made the process much more quick and efficient.

And he crumbled.

The boy shrunk under the set of gazes and tensed atmosphere. Mumbling something incoherent, he backed off, grabbing a can of beer on his way as if pretending to not be bothered when very visibly he was.

You sighed.

An exhale of relief made you wilt a little inside the protective embrace of Satoru’s arms. You felt your body relaxing.

“Thank you. He was damn persistent,” you addressed your friends, smoothing over the hands snaked around your waist and looking up at Suguru.

“Always,” brunette smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, while Satoru nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. Then he bit you, of course he did, but this time you let it slip.

“I’d be persistent too if I saw those tits unattended,” the snow-white mumbled, and Geto immediately nagged him, causing the dramatic roll of blue eyes.

You, on the other hand, laughed.

Those idiots.

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[glitch-but-ya]

04| THE ECHO OF WHO I ONCE WAS

"Let your memory of me be lost to time" IV

TAGS: Platonic!Xavier, angsty, drugging, alcohol, mentions of blood and violence, use of weaponry, self-depreciation, self-image struggles, mental health struggles. WORD COUNT: 6,571 words. TAG LIST: @withering-dream @moonlight-inthe-sea @tinyweebsstuff @vyntheria , @xxfaithlynxx , @just-a-shapeshifter08 , @stxrrielle , @napa-the-yappa

A/N: Sorry for the wait!! Been super busy lately. Anyways, somehow I pushed my boundaries and wrote double the amount of words from the previous fic. Expect it to keep increasing in the future! Hope you enjoy longer parts💕

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3 , PART 5

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear whilst your other hand fiddled with the hem of your gown. Your fingers intertwined with Xavier’s with fervor. Your eyes darted around, searching for the thousands of mocking gazes you felt were glued to you. Yet, nobody spared you a glance. Why? Your mere presence commanded unwelcome attention. The gown, although breathtaking, stood out like a sore thumb—dashingly elegant yet suspiciously innocent compared to the intricate needlework of the N109 zone. The gowns of the women here certainly did no injustice to their intimidating complexions. A simple flick of their hand or the subtlest crook of their eyebrows bore more authority than you collectively owned—if any at all. Their gazes were dangerous, their words reserved. To successfully imitate even one of their gestures would cost you half your lifespan. And unfortunately, the mission could not wait. Neither could Xavier, you assumed, judging by how swiftly he whisked you through the auction.

Xavier, in your eyes, was a determined individual whose focus could not be swayed from the task at hand. Or at least, that was the reasoning you came up with to justify the protective grip on your hand. Like a drill head, he pushed through the throngs of people, penetrating the densest masses and shielding the body behind him from whatever obstruction might arise. A part of you pondered whether it was instinctive protection. He was aware, after all, of the mental state you were in.

For a moment, you considered it—perhaps he didn’t hold onto you for the sake of the mission but because he wanted to. Because the thought of losing you among a crowd of foes unsettled him. But the part of you that left no credit to yourself denied the possibility immediately, smothering it beneath the weight of reason and insecurity. There was no way he cared enough to worry about your well-being. It had to be the urgency of the mission.

His grip on you was unfaltering. Even as you wiggled your fingers, he didn’t let go. Letting out a defeated sigh, you resigned yourself to scanning the crowd.

The auctioneer’s voice sliced through the air, overpowering the rustle of silk and the clink of wine glasses that pressed against your ears unremittingly. You watched as the prices climbed higher, your lips parting a little wider with each bid. The wealth and power radiating from the room bore down on your shoulders like an unbearable weight, crushing you from within. Everything felt unreal. You couldn’t believe such places existed—so abundant in greed and filth. Though the air reeked of nothing but luxury perfumes, you swore you caught a horrid stench beneath it all.

Heavy chandeliers glared upon you, forcing you to squint under their unfamiliar glow. You were certain your behavior was viewed as eccentric. No noblewoman shields herself from a mere arsenal of chandeliers. No woman of class envies the faces of those passing by. No woman grips her partner’s hand in a place she is supposed to call familiar. You hugged yourself tighter with your free arm.

You wanted to go home—to curl up, to succumb to your burdens, to bury yourself within your sheets while you wiped your tears on the face of your once-favorite crow plushie. If being the truest version of yourself was most desirable, why did it hurt so much?

You thought you could handle it. You thought you could endure the stares. But reality crashed into you like a tsunami at its might. You gripped the sides of your gown, tugging it down in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the world. You wanted to hide. To run away.

Your gaze wandered to the visages of the countless women attending the auction. They were adorned in rich colors—deep emerald, burgundy, and black being the most common. Many wore backless gowns, others dressed in garments with thigh slits and plunging necklines. Their feet were encased in piercing-sharp heels.

A group of them turned over their shoulders to glance at you. One woman held her gaze for a moment longer before turning back to her friends, snickering at what you presumed was you. A frown tugged at your lips.

Elegant, refined, opulent, and greedy—they were everything you could never imagine yourself to be. Yet, it begged the question: why chase a single soul when surrounded by women of similar class? What had made you so different in his eyes?

What made the cruel sorceress appealing to the lone dragon?

To you, she was no different than the women who stood here, carelessly sipping wine bought with their own blood-soaked money. So why did he like her?

Your muscles tightened. If you knew, maybe you could be her. You could weave together that picture-perfect facade meant to be glued to your face.

"Ouch."

A small voice broke you out of your trance. Immediately, you released your grip on Xavier’s hand. You muttered a quick apology, averting your gaze the moment his concerned eyes swept over your face. You could sense it—the curiosity, the worry. But you weren’t ready to give any answers yet.

Your relationship with Sylus was strictly confidential. Nobody—especially a skilled hunter—should know of your interaction with him. As if sensing your reluctance, Xavier pursed his lips.

"Did you sense any fluctuations in the area?"

You folded your arms over your chest and shook your head. "As we suspected, the real aether core is not here," you whispered back.

Xavier craned his neck to meet your gaze, placing a thoughtful finger under his chin.

"But," you interrupted his trance, your eyes scanning the hunter’s watch hidden beneath your sleeve, "I do sense slight fluctuations in one of the VIP lounges." A crestfallen shake of your head followed your statement. "Not strong enough to be an aether core, though. So I’m guessing it’s another high-grade protocore."

"I would be surprised if the actual aether core was here," he chimed in.

You nodded in approval. "We're here for leads. Let's keep our eyes peeled for any information beacons. Anyway, should we keep an eye on that room?"

Xavier hummed in thought before glancing at the entryway to the lounges. "I'll fish around for some information. You keep watch in the meantime. Keep an eye out for anyone slipping in or out."

"And don’t approach them, right?"

Xavier responded with a firm nod. "Wait for my return." He tossed you an extra gun.

The gun you’d caught yourself reaching for trembled in your hand. Why did he have to be here? You constricted your lungs, muffling yourself with your palm as you dissolved into the shadows. The auctioneer’s declarations dimmed in volume as the world around you distorted.

Our souls are intertwined. We cannot escape from each other. Your fingers tightened around the gun’s grip as familiar strands of silver hair flashed past, accompanied by whiffs of cedar. The thump of your heart crept up to your ears. Your forehead throbbed, and beads of sweat streamed down its sides. A lump of saliva pushed past your throat. Could it be that you were mistaken? That his lingering presence in your mind caused you to connect him with an unrelated stranger passing by? But the man’s identity was unmistakable. Tall with white hair, crimson eyes, and a deep voice you couldn’t forget. It was undeniable. The man before you—the man that had just passed by—was your past lover, Sylus.

"You’ve made quite the trip here, haven’t you?" a rich female voice remarked, swiping a black card against the modern card reader. Your legs trembled with anticipation as the door glided open with a beep. No, you told yourself, Xavier told me to stay put. "I happened to be staying nearby." "That’s good, then," the lady’s wide-brimmed sun hat dipped as she lowered her head and pushed the door open. She gestured toward Sylus, who stepped in without hesitation.

A slight pang flared in your chest. An array of thoughts began to flood your mind, but you swiftly shut your eyes. He’s not yours anymore. He’s a lone man, free to do anything he desires with whoever he pleases. It’s not your business.

It was wrong to feel this way. You knew jealousy was a destructive sin, both to the self and to those around you. But their mere interaction—the way he glanced at her beneath her hat, how he offered a calculated smile, and how he conversed so casually with a woman he was (at least supposed to be) on strictly professional terms with—awakened something in you that you couldn’t quite grasp. Something dark, painful. In a word, it was jealousy. You assumed she was something close to his type. Of course, you didn’t know her. You didn’t really know either of them. But the presence she radiated reminded you of her. Clad in an amethyst dress that draped down her legs up to her knees with an attractive slit on its side, she seemed powerful. Her long lashes, sharp nails, elegant hat, and extravagantly jeweled neck and fingers rendered her a perfect fit for Sylus. They seemed to slot in just as two oppositely shaped puzzle pieces would, forming a flawless picture—an unstoppable duo able to conquer whatever they pleased with ease. They shared a common prowess and were up to each other’s standards.

You scanned her form again, noting how the corner of her lip crinkled as she smirked. Was she who you were expected to be? A savage woman bearing a rotten heart swathed in prodigious amounts of greed? A woman whose ideals rivaled every philosophy you’d sworn to defend? You couldn’t forget all you’d stood by and believed in for the sake of earning a man’s approval. Even if God had decided one evening to swap your body with hers, and had forced you to spend the next 25 years of your (her) life in her body, you were certain you would inch no closer to fathoming her mindset. She felt so distant, just as the past version of you did.

At that moment, it felt as if your decision had reached solid ground. There was no point in yearning for a man whose heart already belonged to someone else. It was a fact—you could not understand her, much less be her. If there was something to invest in, it wasn’t Sylus’s love. Your mission stalled for none, and your goal remained firm. Once you solved the mystery behind your aether core and removed yourself from Ever’s hit list, you could settle into a lonesome yet tranquil life far from the bustling streets of Linkon. Somewhere new, for sure. For a new beginning. When that day comes, and you are to leave behind whatever mess you’ve made here, you would do so with your chest heaved high. Sylus was your equivalent of a short-lived high school romance fueled purely by hormones. It didn’t matter how you truly felt. Because from now on, the truth would be that your relationship with him was merely an ordinary fling and nothing more. Greater priorities had stepped in, demanding your full attention. You couldn’t afford to be heartbroken. Not in this broken world that raced incessantly. And besides, something assured you that this time, you had followed the right lead.

You watched as the door shut after the two, sliding into place with another distinct beep. You revealed yourself from the shadows shortly after and walked down the hall, imitating an ordinary guest. Once out of the cameras’ range, you immediately pulled up your hunter’s watch and typed a short message to Xavier. You ended it with your next location—"I’ll wait for you near the bar." If anything, you were ready to face him this time. Having 'overcome' your period of heartbreak, you were ready to commit to this task with him.

"A drink, miss?"

You shook your head and waved your hand dismissively. "No, thanks." The bartender's eyes narrowed visibly for a while. "Not much of a drinker, huh?" he pressed on. The small talk fell silent as you pursed your lips, unwilling to provide an answer. A conversation with potential spies was the last thing you needed while waiting for a belated meet-up. Speaking too much, especially in a place like this, was a fatal mistake that could cost you your life. You were well aware of the roles bartenders often adopted for a couple of extra bucks. They were subject to drunken confessions, after all, and they wielded the authority to alter your drink at will. Alcohol wasn't particularly something you were fond of either. You did wonder, though, whether refusing the drink had blown your cover more than you realized.

"We offer lots of non-alcoholic options as well, miss. Should I fetch you a French Bloom?" he offered with a simper, pushing on relentlessly with whatever his pursuit was. His words weighed heavy, marked with an undertone you couldn't quite grasp. His eyes, although seemingly modest, concealed bundles of ill intent. You didn't know what he wanted. You were unsure whether what he simmered with was lust or danger—a greater goal to sabotage your mission. Whatever it was, his determination was unwavering.

"Or perhaps you'd prefer a Virgin Mary?" he leaned in, his head tilting to the side. The air shifted. Your eyes darted about the room, scanning your surroundings in a manner subtle enough not to give away your nervousness. The laughter of guests surrounding the counter echoed persistently. It was as if your discomfort was imperceptible. Or, even worse, perhaps it was too insignificant to matter. Surrounded by people of class, by people of importance, you felt small. If anything were to happen, you were sure nobody would come to your aid.

Your jaw tensed. Your hands inched toward the opening of your purse, where your gun was. The room shrunk significantly, walls caging in to confine you in place. There was nowhere to run, no place to flee to. Xavier, your only savior at this moment, was nowhere near you. And it was too risky to attempt to contact him anyway. You were trapped. And the only way to escape unscathed was to play your cards right.

"Just some water, please." You turned to him with a cold smile. "Bottled."

The bartender's smile slackened notably. His gaze seemed to pierce into nothing with an indescribable intensity. His fingers curled around a glass, tightening ever so slightly. The space between you fell silent but remained heavy. For a moment, the two of you simply stared each other down, as if bound to compete on who would falter first. With one final cock of his head, the man stepped away.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. The tension dissipated as he vanished. Your hands sank back to your sides, and your back leaned against the counter. The walls slid back into place, releasing you from your confines. You'd won. For now, it seemed. Of course, you weren't foolish enough to believe you'd truly won. But you were more than willing to savor the temporary moment of triumph.

Your fingers drummed against the counter, your mind wandering off as you waited. It had been a while since the man wandered off into the back. So much time had passed, yet there was no sign of Xavier. You wondered if he had gotten caught up with trouble. You doubted it, though. You’d seen what he was capable of with your own eyes. If you could manage to avoid getting killed (although barely), you were confident Xavier could as well. Much better than you, in fact. If your suspicions were true, and he was indeed the renowned Lumiere, you had nothing to worry about.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender set a sealed bottle down on the counter. You swiftly dropped a few coins onto the counter and whisked away the bottle. The realization of how thirsty you were had just dawned on you. Your lips hadn’t kissed a liquid in hours, and the incident that had just occurred didn’t do you any favors by drying your throat up further.

Your fingers deftly twisted the top open. It was sealed. You smiled at the discovery, letting your shoulders slump. There shouldn’t have been any problems if it was sealed, right? There was no way he could unseal, spike, and reseal your drink in such a short time. Oh, well. You were too thirsty to ponder it anyway. You chugged the water hungrily. Some of it trickled down the corner of your lip, barely making it to your chin before you wiped it away. By the time you were done, the bottle was half empty. You fetched a tissue from your purse and gently tapped your lips. You winced at the bits of lipstick that had been absorbed alongside the excess water.

At that moment, your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice calling out your name.

Your head whipped toward the source, eyes brightening as Xavier approached. From afar, he shot you an apologetic smile.

“I got distracted. Did you wait long?”

As if reminded of his late arrival, a frown graced your lips. “Did you doze off or something? I—” You stopped. You didn't know what you were supposed to say or how to say it. Were you supposed to cry about how your mysterious ex, who just so happened to be the infamous leader of an illegal corporation the Hunter’s Association was after, had gotten himself involved with the lady you two were after? The fact that Xavier was unaware of the relationship in the first place made it worse. Furthermore, how were you supposed to relay to him how you felt like you were in danger? Would he not think of you as paranoid when you failed to provide any concrete evidence? Would you not be judged when you tell him how constricted you felt, even though the man had not actually posed any real threat? To add to that, your mental state was not the best, and you knew Xavier was aware of that. You would be dismissed as a newbie paranoid about her first real mission. It was useless. You were useless. He wouldn’t get it. He would misunderstand and criticize you without your knowledge. Not that he would be wrong to. You just didn’t want him to. Because it would hurt, nonetheless—true or not.

Just shut up and lie. That’s the most useful you could be anyway. You were sure you were onto nothing. No matter how many discoveries you made, Xavier would come in and throw it all out the window, proving it wrong or offering a better solution. You didn’t resent him for it. He was a professional, after all. Worthy of the delicate suit he wore, worthy of his title and reputation. In the end, people like him are the ones who get picked. They are loved, cherished, and looked at. They are the ones with healthy careers, blooming relationships, and a flock of friends, no matter their past. The rest are filth, like you, who will eventually be disposed of, discarded into landfills, and forgotten. All while people like him have their names displayed on pillars of strength. Whether it be notoriety or fame that got them to that place, regardless, they will remain at the top while the rest rot and wither away. That was your fate. So, you told yourself, it’s your place to shut up and remain quiet.

“I was just overwhelmed by the crowd.” Once again, you retreated into your shell, shielding yourself from prying eyes and good intentions. “Sorry.”

Xavier shook his head and leaned in, his eyes carrying a hint of worry. “No need to apologize. I shouldn’t have left you alone. But,” his eyes narrowed, “if you were overwhelmed by the crowd, why did you drift someplace more crowded?” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling sheepishly. Unsurprisingly, he'd caught you in your lie.

"Oh, I needed a drink," you held out your half-consumed water bottle. "Want some?"

He waved his hand dismissively. You shrugged and stuffed the bottle into your purse. It was small enough to fit, but the surface bulged subtly.

"You know," Xavier started, "you should avoid buying anything when undercover."

"I know, I know." You flicked your wrist. "I forgot to pack a bottle, so I was practically dying."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, but next time, be careful."

Suddenly, his eyes hardened, and he set out toward a more secluded place. You straightened your posture instinctively, trailing him as he walked.

"Liora Blackthorne. She's a relatively amateur merchant in charge of several trading guilds around the world," he whispered, glancing at you over his shoulder. So, her name is Liora.

"She's recently risen to fame. Got lucky, according to her competitors. The aether core has been her object of interest for a while now. She was probably scammed. I can't help but feel pity for her." He stopped, eventually coming to lean against the wall of a segregated corner. His eyes wandered off in thought. That was when you noticed it cross his mind—the thought you dreaded at the moment.

"I think," you started, "that it's still worth a shot. We could learn of the supplier and apprehend him. Besides, if she is after the aether core, she may pose a greater threat to us later on."

Xavier, whose thoughts you'd just interrupted, looked back up at you, his eyes regaining their familiar glow. He stared at you for a while, tilting his head subtly to the side as he scrutinized you as if you were a specimen behaving irregularly. Your breath hitched in your throat. Did he know you knew? Did he figure it out? Although you were enamored with both the softness and the power of his gaze, you resented it at present. Your instincts told you that he'd caught on and that you should just come clean now. But a part of you doubted your own judgment. Perhaps you're just overthinking it like you always do.

Xavier sighed, pushing himself off the wall. "Alright," he said, his voice indifferent. "I suppose you're right. We have nothing to lose, after all." He turned on his heels, as if ready to leave. A tide of relief washed over you. He hadn't noticed, and you'd successfully averted his focus where you wanted it to be. The thought of your fulfillment made you rejoice internally.

As you'd barely begun your celebration, Xavier's face approached yours. Placing both hands on his knees, he crouched down. His face was a modest distance from yours, but you felt suffocated nonetheless. You were pinned under his gaze, even though he was barely touching you. The intensity in his eyes caused your heart to thump with more fervor against your ribs, threatening to leap out. You were stripped bare with all your misdoings etched across parts of your body, open for him to see. For the first time, Xavier scared you.

"You know, I would prefer it if you didn't lie to me like that," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave lower. "Don't you think it's best if we place our full trust in each other?"

At that moment, your world shrunk. Once again, you were trapped.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Only a soft tremble of your lips followed. Xavier scanned your form again. His eyes softened as he noted your nervousness.

"I'm not mad." What a lie. "I'm sure you had your reasons, and I won't pry into them. But, please," he pleaded.

With renewed courage, your eyes met his again. You could tell he was being sincere. His presence radiated safety. Maybe telling him wouldn't be so bad.

And so you did. You began, narrating the events that had occurred so far. From Liora's appearance to the silent threats you received at the bar, you recounted everything in detail. You explained to him the bartender's obtrusive behavior, and all the while, he listened without a flicker of judgment or critique passing his lips. You'd left out Sylus on purpose, replacing him with "a suspicious-looking man who'd entered the room alongside her." And you were sure Xavier had caught on to your half-truth. But out of pity or respect, he did not pry. He only listened with a countenance you could not decipher. You could see the cogs turning in his head, processing the newfound information. And once you were done, Xavier's lips curled gently.

"You did a good job," he patted your head gingerly. "Your experience will be helpful."

You couldn't help but beam at his praise.

"But," he began, making your heart sink to the depths once more, "I'm a bit worried about that water he gave you. You drank it, right?"

You tilted your head and placed a finger on your lip. "It was sealed."

Xavier shook his head. "Bottled water can be spiked as well. Some prepare drugged bottles and seal them in advance."

You rolled your elbow, raising your arms as you did. "I feel fine, though."

"Let's just hope you remain that way."

You bit the inside of your cheek. Only now had you realized how imbecilic it was to let your thirst overwhelm you in crucial moments like these. You felt stupid. How dare you be so oblivious? Well, there was no point in beating yourself up over it now. If you were marked for death, you'd have died by now.

"You mentioned a suspicious man entering the room alongside her." Sylus. "Could he have been a lover?"

Your cheeks flared. "No!"—you blurted out faster than you could comprehend. Xavier's eyes narrowed, lingering on you for a minute. Okay, he was definitely judging you. You quickly readjusted your tone. "I mean, of course not! I already told you—it's a business partner!"

"You didn’t."

"Oh... Well, now you know." You grinned awkwardly.

Xavier cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think we should check it out. We could try eavesdropping. That way, we could determine whether it would be a waste of time to pursue her or not." Xavier suggested, to which you nodded in agreement almost instantly.

You placed your hand against the wall, leaning some of your weight onto it. You huddled closer to Xavier, who was listening to the conversation unfolding inside via a portable monitor. Apparently, in the long and grueling half-hour he had been gone, he had made time to access the room's footage through a hidden camera. Unfortunately, the footage was blank, leaving you only with distorted audio clips to extract information from. Whatever it was, it was enough.

"I’ve heard of your recent acquisition, Miss Liora. I wish to congratulate you in person." You perked at the sound of a rich male voice. It was certain now: it was truly him.

"An 'acquisition'..." Xavier mumbled. You chimed in, "I think it's the protocore."

The next bits of the conversation included a string of fabricated formalities. The two spoke in a formal tone with a proper accent and decent grammar. It seemed they weren’t so close after all.

You subconsciously leaned into Xavier's body, almost entirely releasing your weight onto him. The realization had only dawned upon you when he staggered forward uncomfortably. However, the moment you'd decided to move away, he wrapped an arm around your back and propelled you to your feet while supporting you.

"You okay?" He tilted his head, his eyes brimming with concern. You felt a pang of guilt in your heart. It was you who was bothering him, and yet, he was the one asking you if you were okay. Friends like him were quite scarce nowadays.

"I'm fine." You flicked your wrist dismissively. "Just a little weak in the legs. Haven't had a seat in a while, you know." With his hand still on your back, Xavier pushed you down onto the floor, crossing his legs and seating himself beside you. Your cheeks flared. "Xavier! This is embarrassing! What if--"

"I've disabled all cameras and doors leading to this hallway. Don't worry, we're safe here." He sent you a comforting glance. Something fluttered in your chest, causing you to feel soft and fuzzy inside. Your cheeks flushed as blood rushed to your face. You wanted to squish his cheeks, to pat his head aggressively until his hair was a huge mess. Seriously, how could someone as powerful as him be so adorable?

"This," the two of you relocated your focus back to the surveillance monitor, "is my key to the greatest success man can accomplish." A camera would have done you both a huge favor right about now. If you had one, you could see whether the object in Liora's possession was an aether core or something less trivial. You shared a knowing glance with Xavier. He was thinking the same. But a hint of something other than irritation crossed his face. His eyes deepened, carrying a resemblance of anxiety. His leg oscillated up and down as if he were trying to shake bothersome worms off his thigh. He wasn’t telling you anything, though. Not yet. That was until he turned his neck to face you fully. With a calculated voice, he began, "Hey, don't freak out, but I think--"

"And now, the only impediment in my evolution is you." You both held your breath. Your bodies stilled at the woman's explicit confession. You looked at Xavier, and he nodded. He raised his gun to his face, the barrel pointed upwards, and lowered his head. At his signal, you would make your move.

But you couldn’t help the way your legs trembled. It was not fear. You were certain you weren't afraid. It was as if all the blood had drained from your legs, leaving them numb and lifeless. You grimaced, feeling the sensation slowly begin to spread across your stomach. Picking up on your discomfort, Xavier pushed you back onto the ground.

"Wait here. I'll apprehend them both." You reached out to wrap your fingers around his sleeve. With a swift tug, you had him crouching near you. You brought your face closer to his, letting him look into your eyes. Xavier's lips parted.

"No," you adjured firmly, mustering up the fiercest look you could manage. "You won't last." And you were confident he wouldn't. Not against Sylus, if they were to find themselves in a face-off. You didn’t know who would emerge unvanquished, but it didn’t matter. Either outcome was unfavorable. Despite the falling out you’d experienced with Sylus, and despite the bond you shared with Xavier, you didn’t wish ill on anyone. If either were to wind up injured, you couldn’t forgive yourself. Xavier was unaware of the kind of foe he was up against and was consequently unprepared. You couldn’t let that happen. For the sake of peace, you couldn’t.

As the voices continued to play in the background, Xavier's eyes narrowed, but he did not protest. He knew better than to doubt you in moments of absolute seriousness. If you were confident, it was for good reason. He was aware, of course, that you had hidden the man's identity purposely. But it was only fair to let you keep your secrets close to your chest. He had locked his own away in a box, far from curious gazes like yours. After all, he wasn’t a hypocrite. But what both disgruntled and perplexed him the most was your abrupt declining health paired with your infuriating stubbornness. If a fight were to break out, you would fall first.

But before he could lay you down against the wall, you scrambled to your feet. With the copy of the keycard, you barged in recklessly. Xavier cocked his gun and followed after you. Once the two of you were inside, the door slid shut with a hiss.

With aching legs and a light head, you raised your gun, leveling it with the woman's head. You racked the slide. Click.

"Miss," you called out, your legs readily giving in. "Please stand down." You watched as Liora's eyes widened, as her grip on the gun faltered. Her eyebrows knitted menacingly. A crease formed at the center as she did. But a smirk tugged at her lips, replacing the frown the moment she picked up on your wobbling legs. You were trembling all over. This was only a minor setback.

In a rapid movement, she whipped her gun at you. Her finger tightened around the trigger. You instinctively tightened yours. The anticipation worsened your symptoms and caused your vision to distort. Your hands shook violently. Your focus drifted. Taking the chance, Liora launched a bullet from her gun.

The bullet froze mid-air. A dark mist wrapped around her torso. It extended past her body, wrapping itself around the bullet, which was now suspended mid-air. "Sylus... you! Why?! They won't spare you either!" she gritted her teeth. He said nothing in response.

Your head spun, and eventually, you lost your balance. Xavier was quick to come to your aid, using one hand to prop you up as you were about to fall. Your eyelids drooped, your vision blurring. Your head snapped to where Sylus was standing. You analyzed his features in a haze. He seemed angry. Was he mad you screwed up his plan? He must be. You failed him yet again.

"Xavier..." you mumbled, squinting. His grip on you tightened.

"Just hold on," he whispered into your ear. He raised his head from your scrunched countenance to shoot Sylus a nasty glare as if daring him to make a move. But to Xavier’s astonishment, he didn’t move. He simply focused on pinning the woman down with his evol, ignoring you as if you didn’t exist. As if you didn’t matter. It angered him further. What type of men were you involved with behind his back?

After a period of struggle, and despite Xavier's soft coos and pleas, at last, the world faded to black.

The following morning, you awoke on a soft, unfamiliar mattress. The scent of burnt eggs mixed with sandalwood permeated the air, filling your nostrils and offering you a (not so) warm welcome to your new room. The mattress squished beneath your weight as you lifted yourself off the bed. The scarlet velvet fleece draped around your body, bunching oddly with your movements. A fresh jug and glass were placed by your bed with the care you were familiar with. You were still dressed in your gown from before, the only difference being the absence of the itchy or uncomfortable upper layers. Your hair was undone, messy, and your neck lacked the jewels it once bore. Your face felt muddy, possibly as a result of lingering makeup. Despite the comfort of the grand bed, your head throbbed with vigor. Had Xavier wrapped up everything back at the auction? Did he capture Liora? Or did she run away? Did your negligence botch the mission? Had your identities been revealed? Are you on the run? Are you even in the N109 zone? And what about Sylus?

Your head ached in retaliation, urging you to rest, to shut your eyes and sink into the sheets again for a single moment of shut-eye. But something unpleasant stirred in your chest uncomfortably. Something fiery and bitter. Before you knew it, it spread to your veins and marionetted you onto your feet. You winced at the coldness of the floor. Your head followed the rays of peeking sunlight, guiding your eyes to a window. The darkness of the N109 zone swirled with Linkon's azure skies, forming a vortex of contrasting colors above. On your side, there appeared to be more blue than red. From that, you could determine you were somewhere around the border between the N109 zone and Linkon, but in Linkon nonetheless.

Each step you took caused bolts of pain to spike up your feet. The numbness slowly began to return, but this time as an aftermath of being drugged rather than a consequence. Comparatively, though, it was slightly more bearable.

You pressed your face against the glass, peering down at the land below. Your room offered an unimpressive view of a parking lot with rows of vehicles positioned in designated spots. You watched as a red car wheeled off the gravel road and attempted to line itself between two white strips, only to fail and bump into a wall behind it. You should've scrambled out of your bed in search of Xavier, yes, but your fragmented and exhausted consciousness demanded otherwise. No matter how many times you urged yourself to move, you couldn't. Your body betrayed your will.

"Oh, good morning." The scent and sizzle of burnt eggs drifted into the room, flowing past your nose. "How are you feeling? I'll get breakfast ready soon."

You turned to face him, although you didn't need to look to know he'd burnt the food he had been struggling to prepare. "You overcooked it."

He laughed sheepishly. Your heart couldn't help but melt at the sight. He was so adorable.

You limped toward Xavier, who was leaning on the doorway with a pan of charcoal eggs. "Don't move around too much. You're not fully recovered." He grabbed onto your shoulder to steady you before walking you back to your bed. He set the pan down on the bedside table. He pulled a stool and seated himself in front of you. "The drug has lasting effects."

You turned your head, fixing your eyes on the window again. He chuckled, a boyish sound. "Anything interesting out there? You've been staring at it for a while."

"Where are we?" you urged, but your tone bore no perplexion. Xavier's lips parted as if saying, Right, how could I forget?

"The man there." He bit his lip. "The man you seemed to be acquainted with. He helped us." You slowly turned your head back to him with an unreadable expression plastered on your face. He continued. "He didn't tell me his name. But he helped wrap things up there. He got rid of the evidence. We had been caught on a few cameras, and a couple of guests had picked up on our unfamiliarity. Including the man who'd ordered your drink to be spiked. He erased the footage, used his authority to shut some lips, and took care of anything else that needed to be put under wraps."

"And Liora?"

He paused. "The man... gave her up to us. She was dragged away by the association. Out of respect, I stayed silent and mentioned nothing about his existence. I simply claimed it was all my work. The protocore was, in fact, fake. Just another high-grade protocore. She'd been tricked."

You nibbled on the skin of your lower lip. "And about where we are?"

"He arranged a hotel for us to stay a night. He covered it as well."

"In exchange for what?"

He turned his head away. "That..." Your eyes narrowed, and you cocked your head, waiting for him to say it. A pregnant pause followed, and Xavier clasped his hands together and leaned in. His eyes hardened as he looked up at you.

With a sharp exhale, he began. "He demanded that I drop you from this mission."

[thedivineden]

Thin Ice

Summer Olympics Collab w/ @tetzoro

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: smut

words: 5k+

notes: dubcon, enemies, breeding, jujitsu kaisen au!figure skaters, slight mentions of sexual harassment from Gojo, obsession, controlling behaviors, jealousy, drugging, peer pressure, slight manipulation,

AN: I had so much fun writing this, you should see the notes I scribbled at work because we’re not allowed to have our phones! Thank you so much @tetzoro for allowing me to be apart of this lovely event. ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊

You and Gojo Satoru have been competing against each other since the day you were placed in the same class at nine years old. He was favored due to his family standing within the figure skating community but you had raw, unfiltered talent which shook him and his family to their core. Despite all your talent, he’s managed to win almost every single competition. You’d bet big money that it had to do with his family status but you don’t upset the balance until you’re both picked for the Olympics.

And boy were you fuming. “I ALONE have went through hell and back to be where I am whereas he gets placed just because of his family name! It’s preposterous Shoko!” you’ve been ranting to your coach for an hour about the competition; how you didn’t believe that he deserved to be here and wish you didn’t have to compete along side him. “That spoiled brat doesn’t have a INCH of talent in his bones even if it was injected with a needle!”

“Aw do you really hate me that much? I thought we were friends?” You turn to the door to see the lanky white haired man standing against its frame smiling down at you. “Friends? Satoru please, you know I never enjoyed your company now leave. I’m having a discussion with MY coach or are you wanting to take her away from me too?” Shoko stifled a small laugh and stood up. “Gojo, don’t stress my prodigy out. What do you want?”

Gojo never took his eyes off of you; he saw your annoyance as just another game. You roll your eyes and say, "Well, I was just coming to check on my favorite figure skater but I don't think she was to see me." Despite your request to go, Gojo slips into your room and envelops you in his arms. "I'll break all ten of your toes in five seconds if you don't get off of me."

Gojo chuckles at what you've said because he adores your fierce personality and is confident that you will follow through. You lost a tournament at 15 after he "jokingly" slapped your behind for taking first place and your only recourse was to throw your ice skate at him. His parents complained to the judges and got you disqualified.

You were more concerned about scuffing your brand-new Eden Piano ice skates than you were about the blade nearly striking him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he said, "Aw, must you struggle so much, you know you love it, and I know you love me, why don't we meet up later? My room?” You're furious now and shove him away from you. You're about to charge at him when Shoko, sporting her signature side grin, stands in between the two of you.

“Shall we maintain the calm? Alright, sweetie?” The man behind her laughs audibly, saying, "Yeah, sweetie! Let's maintain harmony.” Even though you were angry, you wouldn't allow him or anybody else to sour your mood. "Shoko, you're right; I won't have to deal with him for very long. After the Olympics, I'm heading to Brazil, and I have no intention of returning to Tokyo.” That touched a nerve; your coach's gasp indicates to Gojo that she was equally clueless. You had no idea that your remark had the man fuming.

You? Leaving? The young man finds just such idea absurd. Ever since he first saw you in class, you have been everything to him. You were not impressed with Gojo's antics, even if he is accustomed to getting his way. No matter how many pranks and tricks he performed or how many gifts he put in your locker, his efforts were consistently disregarded.

The man continued to essentially harass you every day despite your denial. He would make harsh remarks about your body, clearly taking care to point out that you are curvier than all the other figure skaters in the class or that your ass is "so massive that you might tip over," which would ultimately be the undoing of you. You could not care less, and all he wanted was the thrill of having your undivided attention.

Gojo needed and desired you more than anything else, and this only made his fixation worse. Without saying anything more, the young man left the room, leaving Shoko to ask all the relevant questions and provide the information later. He's going to make sure that you remember him forever.

It took hours for the two of you to be back together again. You were seated close to each other for the opening ceremony. The opening ceremony typically features the entrances of the head of state or other official of the host nation as well as the president of the International Olympic Committee. The national anthem and flag are then raised and played. Then the tournament started.

You have a strong passion for figure skating, and when you're on the ice, it feels remote. Nothing could distract you from your quest for excellence in each trick, flip, and turn. Everyone in the stadium is quiet, appreciating your stunning appearance and captivating performance. Your candid feelings convey a tale of bereavement.

You jump off the backward outside edge on one foot, using your toe pick to help you get airborne, then use your other leg to reach across your body and back to pick into the ice. Gojo is an enormous admirer of your performances and would do anything to spend time on the ice with you.

You were actually quite flexible, as required by the biellmann spin. You spin on one foot, stretching the other leg behind you and above your head to make the shape of a teardrop, and Gojo is staring at you in astonishment. You release your leg and step off the ice again. You can turn the odds in your favor with just your pure resolve.

You release everything forward, shift your entire weight on your takeoff left leg, raise your arms, and release your right leg back at the same moment of takeoff. At first, it looks like a typical axel leap, but in order to complete the trick, you have to make four and a half rotations in the air. When you land perfect, everyone in the stadium goes crazy. Gojo was aware of the announcers' adoration for your flawless quadruple axel.

Interviewers are waiting in line to chat with Japan's figure skating prodigy as soon as you step off the ice. Gojo heard all of the inquiries: "Wow, it was incredible! "How long have you been practicing your quadruple axel?" "How long have you been training?" and "Do you ever see yourself performing routines in pairs with?" You were brisk even off the rink, graciously and enthusiastically responding to every inquiry.

Gojo is the next to go, but not before he interacts with you. "Looks like you're going for the gold, but we all know who's really taking it home." Your smile quickly disappears and is replaced by a frown. "If you already know you're the winner why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that I'm not?" You grin again and walk past the gaunt man before he can respond, heading toward Shoko.

God, you made him so hard.

Despite what you previously stated, Gojo is without a doubt the greatest for Japan, and his mesmerizing methods are hard to ignore. Every now and then, Gojo stretches out his palm and takes a tiny step forward, sliding across the icy rink with effortless ease. Not long after he picks up speed, he throws his right leg over his head and balances on his left foot. He spread his arms, almost making a T or possibly a K. Gojo never fails to demonstrate to his own nation and the rest of the world that he was a showman in addition to a prodigy.

He swung his body in fluid motions, bending his knees. He was able to move down the rink more quickly and farther as soon as both of his skates were facing in the same direction and parallel to one another. Watch as the man launches himself and lands on the back outside edge of the opposing foot. You see him use his free leg to assist with the takeoff. Gojo starts off across the rink once more; he has the appearance of a swan on a quest. Despite his solemn expression, he manages to pique the audience's interest by molding his face to suit his intended message.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a tap from another skater. "Hi!"You're — correct? The most beautiful man you have ever seen is revealed when you turn around. "Yes I am and you are?" Your smile was enough to break any man's heart, and it certainly broke Gojo's. His eyes caught you talking to the low-level figure skater during his back bend. To get your attention, Gojo slowly lifts his body upward while making sure to circle close to you.

You paid no attention to anything, not even when the crowd chanted his name. He saw you gazing passionately at the man, touching him, and grinning during his performance. He'll make sure that everyone is aware of your connection. Interviewers swarm Gojo as he emerges from the ice, asking him questions about the tournament, his emotions, whether he predicted Japan would win, and what he loves best about the Olympics.

He took great pleasure in watching you, even though you were hostile toward you. He enjoys watching you on the ice and knows that all of these eyes will be able to see and appreciate your beauty and brilliance, even if that's not a suitable answer to the question. “I had fun watching my girlfriend accomplish a quadruple axel on the ice, going above and beyond the norm!” The interviewers are going crazy over the exclusive insider information that Japan's Olympic candidates are a couple! “I'm very proud of her!”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Could you two come on my show to give more information about your relationship and experience in the competitive skating world?”

“Do you plan on marrying her?”

Gojo has a broad smile, but it widens when he notices you approaching from the corner of his eye. He ensured that there would be enough disturbance to draw in people from a 50-mile radius. He quickly puts his arm around your waist to hold you close once you are arms length apart.

He undoubtedly knows that you are extremely conscious of your appearance and would never intentionally make a fool of yourself in front of thousands of people. "Hello my darling, don't you want to tell them about how our love blossomed?" Even though you're terrified, you swiftly avert the interviewers' attention to the man by saying that he always tells story better than you. He makes fun of you and tells a made-up tale of jealousy, hate, and love. Gojo lets the interviewer know that you two are deeply in love, plan to be married, and want to start a family.

He knows when you get uncomfortable in his arms and knows it's time to finish the interview and express gratitude for the interviewers' time. Curses fly from your mouths towards Gojo the moment you two are out of earshot. You attempt to escape his hold, but it's firm and powerful, and he won't let go until he proves that you are his.

Because he would be pressed for time, he had everything set up before the competition day. After his performance, he asked to have a car ready for him so he could take you to the Olympic village, to his room, and finally to his bed. You sound even more enraged now that you're practically yelling at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why in the hell would you tell them that?”

"I just want you to realize how much I adore you, now hush and enjoy." Gojo hurries you into the back of the tinted Range Rover, entering on the left side. He signals the driver to shorten the route and closes the partition — his hand finds contact too high on your thigh and his look is exceedingly strained. "I'm not your enemy but you treat me like one, why?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his assertion, "You've been tormenting me since we were seven, and you think I have no reason to want you away from me?" When you look at him, his expression is one of perplexity. Torment? I used to put gifts in your locker, and from what I remember, you threw them out." Your face flushed from the accusation. "Well, I'd have kept them if you hadn't said anything about my physique. "Everyday, you said something demeaning which encouraged other people to say hurtful things. Now you all are in my shadow, I’m winning the gold ."

You turned to face Gojo and said this with the biggest smile on your face, but as soon as you saw the tear streaming down his hot cheeks, your smile fades. "What's wrong, you?" Even with a hint of worry in your voice, your countenance suggests dissatisfaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, but I'd like another chance." In all honesty, Gojo doesn't give a damn about earning your favor. All he wants is what any man would want.

To win.

Gojo makes sure to be the ultimate gentleman as he ushers you out promptly as the car arrives at the village. When he offers his hand to help you out of the car and opens the compound door for you, he can see you're nervous and cautious because you pause. To be honest, you felt anxious at every turn, and when Gojo came up behind you, his arm clasped tightly around your waist. You didn't know why you two were at the compound without your coaches, or what he wanted, but you weren't enjoying it.

When he arrives at his room, he stops at the entrance and looks at you intently. "I set everything up for you because I want you to know how special you've been to me," he says as he opens the door. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla greets you, along with the sight of candles and petals scattered on the corridor floor. Gojo releases his hold on you as his hand travels to your lower back and softly presses you inside his room.

Although your instincts are going haywire, the environment appears in the opposite way. When you step fully into his room the corridor floor is only the tip of the iceberg. Gojo, rather, the person he hired to arrange the space, created a lavish pallet on the floor and surrounded it with a heart made of flowers. accompanied by a bouquet of flowers and a selection of finger appetizers. There are images of you from previous competitions, including ones where you lost, hanging on the walls with the term winner printed on them.

"Do you Iike it?" The pleasure on his face is palpable. In a normal situation, you would do anything to erase Gojo Satoru’s smile, but right now, it would be bittersweet. The amount of work he put in is both sweet and a little alarming, given that several of the images on display were taken when he was alone himself in the booth. You feel the silence begin to take on an unsettling note, so you turn to nod your head at the man, a small grin on your lips.

“Sit down, try the foods. I’ll be back with drinks!” Gojo disappears down the corridor and out the room door leaving you and your rapid heart alone. Thoughts were swirling in your head.

You could just leave.

What does all of this mean? I mean he did give you gifts when you were kids but you just chalked it up to him trying to buy you and throw you off your game.

Does he actually like you? Could it have been your announcement about you leaving?

You sit down on the pallet allowing your weak legs to rest and distract yourself with the white chocolate covered strawberries. Halfway through the patch and uncontrollable anxiety, Gojo comes in with a drink tray with two bottles of martell cognac l'or de jean and two glasses. “I see you enjoyed the strawberries, I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch” he places the tray on the pallet and sits extremely close to you.

You take a seat on the pallet, allowing your ailing legs to relax, and use the strawberries coated in white chocolate as a distraction. Gojo enters with a drink tray with two glasses and two bottles of Martell Cognac L'Or de Jean halfway through the patch and uncontrollably anxiousness. He lays the tray on the pallet and sits quite close to you, saying, "I see you enjoyed the strawberries. I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch." He picks up a piece of beef and dips half of it in the homemade ranch.

“Open” you look at the man as if he grew three head and laugh. You try to take the meat, saying, "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," but Gojo pulls his hand back and gives you a stern look. Without a second thought you open your mouth to allow the man to feed you. Not only did you let him feed you once but the whole plate of beef along with the miso ranch.

Surprisingly, the beef is really soft, and when mixed with the miso ranch, it is exquisite. Gojo fed you the trend of white meal options, asking you what you thought of whatever he served you next and ensuring you finished at least half. You attribute it to his big ego, and he is still making whatever this is about himself, albeit in a minor way.

You begin to feel lighter, and your discussion with him has become comfortable, flirtatious even. Only when he places his hand on your thigh does your body react.

Your face is now hot, your mind is muddled, and his hand rubbing your thighs makes you want him to move his hand up higher under your skirt. You clear your throat and remind yourself who you’re with. "So, why did you actually do this? I didn't expect Gojo Satoru to be romantic” he hasn't taken his gaze away from you, but appears to be getting closer.

“Because you’re leaving and I know I won’t be able to stop you but I want to give you something to think about while you’re 17 thousands miles away.” It's the first time you've truly appreciated his appearance; he has subtle muscular physique. His lips appear smooth and plump, while his jawline is sharp. And his eyes? Women who testified about losing themselves in his gaze weren’t lying.

As your stare deepens, Gojo notices and seizes the opportunity to slide his hand up your leg and under your skirt. You pretend not to notice the precarious situation you've placed yourself in. Truthfully, all you want is for him to be beneath your skirt, to slide your panties to the side, and finger fuck you. Despite your increased heart rate and anxiety you don't stop him.

"Strip for me, princess," and your body becomes frigid instantly, making you appear almost ashamed. His eyes narrow as he leans in to whisper to you how much he wants you, how amazing you are, how he put this whole thing up for you, and how he begs you not to waste this lovely night. “You’re the one who let me put your hand up your skirt, don’t you want it?” You started to stammer and your pussy's heartbeat is becoming unbearable, but are you going to let this man defile you after he has attempted to humiliate you and make you feel inferior?

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs at your apprehension He starts to stand up, but your hand catches his arm and stops him instantly. "No, I think I want—" Before you can even finish speaking, Gojo covers you with his lips and hands. His thin fingers are hurrying through your clothing, admiring every inch of your body and snapping a mental image of your exposed breasts and pussy. His touch is light but frenzied and every kiss feels like it’s scorching your skin leaving an imprint on you.

Your body reacts beautifully to him which makes him hungry for you. Gojo is above you, staring down at you as you lie flat beneath him. Your gaze is locked on him, as though you're trying to assert your power and take charge of the circumstance in an effort to look less desperate and eager. He smiles and ask how much do you want it— with a cunning look on your face, you glare at him and repeat his question. The young man chuckles at you and pushes your legs apart by swiping his palm behind them.

Once your legs are spread, Gojo places his face close to your pussy, basking in its magnificence. "Is all of this for me?" He says before swiping his tongue through your slit. Your legs snap without warning, but his grip keeps you immobile. He revels in your flavor, the way your body heats up, and the way you try to hide your pleasure in your . This time, he didn't want to come up for air; he wanted to be buried in your wetness and hypnotized by your moans.

Your skin feels as like it is being scorched by every kiss and lick to your clit and hole. Gojo commands you to hold your legs up so he can stick two fingers into your dripping hole and curls them to give you the most ecstasy possible. He may be selfish, but he's definitely not when it comes to pleasure. You abandon your position to position your legs on his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his snow-white hair.

"Gojo~ I need- my head..I can't," you say as your legs start to tremble and your eyesight becomes white from the pleasure that has been building up. “You can take it princess, just hold on a little longer for me” he knows that he won’t stop until you've created a mess; you begin to urge the young man to stop so you can regain your breath, but he doesn't hear you at all. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and hums at the sight.

You have a face of pure bliss, your eyes are closed and your hair is starting to stick to your sweat covered body. Gojo has an unrelenting pace — you could do nothing but focus on releasing yourself on his blessed fingers. All he can hear after coming up is your ragged breathing which forms a smile on his face. “I would ask you how everything was but I can see you thoroughly enjoyed yourself”

“You fuck like a virgin who just got some for the first time.” Gojo smile is immediately wiped off his face. You sit up on your elbows but he pushes you back down and pulls out his angry throbbing member. “A virgin huh? Let me lose my virginity with you then” without warning he slides himself through your gummy walls. Now hovering over you, Gojo uses his hands to push one leg up and bend the other to your side. His face is beet red and you can tell he’s enjoying himself more than you are right now.

You want to fuck him, you can’t deny how he has you begging for him to move, yet everything feels forced in your mind. As your face starts to well up with tears, he notices and bends in to get near to your ear. "Aw, don't cry, I'll make it all better, okay?" you nod your head, and he replies "good girl.”

As much as he loves to tease you, he can no longer control himself. Although he intentionally uses deep, languid strokes, the louder your moans the quicker he thrusts into you. He's been saying in your ear all along how gorgeous, wet, and tight you are. How ever since he met you, he's been dreaming of this and wants to be the one man who can win your approval.

You become this lustful shell of yourself that just wants him to consume you, and everything begins to feel like an out-of-body experience. You cry out in desperation for him to go deeper and use you till he is unable to. When he lets go of your legs, you encircle them around his torso while wrapping your arms around his neck forcing his face into your neck.

Your mind is foggy and all you can think about is using your legs to drive him inside of you and lock him in place as Gojo takes advantage of this opportunity to leave as many markings on your neck as possible, intensifying the pleasure you're experiencing.

The young man is breathless at your actions and he makes a mocking tone saying you’re a desperate slut aren’t you? how about I give you something to remember me by”. He lifts his body up untangling your legs from his torso placing both of his palms behind your knees to extend them to the sides of your head, you whine at the lack of contact but he calms your hunger by pounding into you. Even if the action took you by surprise you start to moan and praise the man for fucking you so well.

The young man is breathless at your actions and remarks in a mocking manner, "You're a desperate slut, aren't you?" What if I gave you something to carry me with you forever? You whine at the absence of contact as he lifts his body up and separates your legs from his torso, extending both of his palms behind your knees and push them to the sides of your head. Gojo slams into you stifling your hunger. Even if the action took you by surprise, you start to moan and praise him for fucking you so well.

His climax happens quickly when you mutter, "I-I may just stay for you," in a breathless manner. He closes his eyes in an effort to continue for as long as possible considering he feels his balls getting tight. He desires to relish each instant spent within you, the way your walls enclose him, the firmness with which your hands clasp his arms, and the volume with which you utter his name. Gojo leans back toward you abruptly, giving you a passionate kiss and cums inside of you. Though you're mentally panicking out about the lack of protection, you quickly forget about it as he releases your hold on your limbs and turns you onto your tummy, telling you to lift your ass.

"That fat ass has to get love too, princess, don't be shy." Your embarrassment is the only reason for the heat that is starting to appear on your face. He scoops you up by your hips and slams into you, rolling his eyes at your hesitancy. He is aware of your sensitivity, but you wouldn't be aware of Gojo's struggle to endure the pain in order to prolong this time. Your ass jiggling with each thrust has him spellbound, and as he slides out of you to slam into you again, his dick is drenched.

At this moment, your pussy is hurting and you're crying, but the heatbeat is becoming worse. Then it dawns on you that he is the only one who can stop the excruciating feeling underneath. Your mind is immediately repulsed by the idea. Gojo Saturo, of all people, fucking you senselessly is shameful, but the young man wipes that notion away as soon as it occurs by grabbing your hair with one hand and playing with your clit with the other around your waist.

You were too high and fucked out to realize that Gojo had taken the remote and turned on the television before seizing you. You were so overstimulated that your legs were trembling, and your tears were blurring your vision. "Gojo, please, I just can't handle it any longer." The teleprompters are now announcing the male single winners, “Just let them announce the winners pretty, if you win I’ll give you a present okay?”

Your body became heavy and you can feel your thighs become wet from your climax and hear his win being announced. All he could hear from you now is sobs begging him to give you a second, this is what he wants, for you to break down on his dick. It goes without saying that Gojo takes home the gold, he saw the camera move to his coach; who was very upset over his absence and had a stone-cold expression on his face.

He didn’t want his movements to be soured by the display and leans his head back in bliss. He’s beyond sensitive and doesn’t want you to see the tears coming out of his eyes to. Not only did he win literally but he’s achieving his life long goal of ruining you. His next words are winded, “make sure you come back in nine months for your next present princess.”

Leaning his head back in delight, he didn't want the event to ruin his moves. His sensitivity is immense, and he would prefer that you not see the tears welling up in his eyes. Not only has he literally won, his lifelong ambition to ruin you has been achieved. He continues, "Make sure you come back in nine months for your next present, princess," in a taunting manner.

You continue to sob as Gojo bullies your overworked cunt, cumming again coating your tantalizing walls in white. He lets you go and once you hit the pallet your world goes black. Waking up you notice the space around you is pitch black, you attempt to get up and survey the surroundings but your body is incredibly sore.

You sob on and on as Gojo abuses your overworked cunt and once more covers your alluring walls in white. After he lets you go, you strike the pallet, and everything goes dark. When you wake up, you discover that the space is pitch black. You want to stand up and take in your surroundings, but your body hurts so much. From your head to in between your legs, you look and feel around for a light or at least your phone.

You jump back and scream as soon as you feel warmth and skin when you reach to your left. Your head is throbbing and you try to recollect the last few hours, but when you discover you can't, it just makes you feel more anxious. You stand up despite the fact that your legs are weak and sprint to the closest corner to make yourself appear smaller. Your final recollection is leaving the ice and talking with the interviewers. Besides that, you don’t know where you are, why you’re naked and who that is laying next to you.

“Why are you yelling princess, it’s late.”

Princess? When you hear the voice, your blood starts to boil, and you start to remember what transpired. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GOJO SATORU YOU WAKE THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED," the man gets out of the duvet and moves across the room to turn on the light. He can't stop laughing when he sees you in the corner. "Princess, get up. I got you something."

The man walks to the nearest dresser, throws you in the shorts and shirt, and walks to the bathroom, seemingly unaffected by your outcry. It's amazing how calm someone can be when he's clearly done you some harm. But you get dressed immediately, grab your stuff from his room, and run out of there. "You sick bastard, I hope you know that I'm going to the authorities." A flurry of flashes from microphones and cameras jammed against your face greets you as soon as you open the door.

Questions about why you were in Gojo's room, whether you were actually unwell or if you skipped the rest of the competition to spend time with him, and why you were leaving in his clothing suddenly burst out of the seemingly small gathering. The sensation of his arms enveloping you, his naked chest resting on your back, and his murmur in your ear, "Gold winning Olympian misses her win to share intimate time with her new boyfriend," further intensifies your feelings of overwhelm. “I believe that is a catchy headline.”

Gojo got what he wanted, attaching you to him forever, hopefully in more ways than one.

[katerinaaqu]

Why did Helen choose to torment the Greek Warriors inside the Trojan Horse? (An Odyssey Analysis)

Okay so here is a conundrum that seems to be quite interesting in homeric poems. One of them seems to be Helen's behavior before the sacking of Troy. Menelaus informs us and Telemachus on the events of the night before taking Troy and speaks on the moment where Helen knocks on the Trojan Horse and calls upon the Greek warriors inside imitating the voices of their wives.

Three times you circled the hollow ambush and out of the best of the Danaans you called the names and all the Argives heard the voices of their spouses. Nevertheless I and the son of Tydeus and the godly Odysseus heard you as you called out and while we two were eager to rush out and act to our sudden urge, Odysseus though held us back and restrained us despite our eagerness. Then all the other sons of Achaeans endured apart from Anticlus wanted to respond to your call but Odysseus placed his hand upon his mouth non-stop and strongly and thus saving all the Achaeans until Athena Pallas led you away

(Translation by me)

So basically here we see a very cruel act right? Helen knows the Argives were away from home and their wives way too long, over a decade so why would she play such a cruel game to them and call upon them by using the voices of their wives? It seems unnecessarily cruel at some point especially since she did express the need to go back to her husband already a year prior during the events of Iliad.

So here are a couple of explanations for it.

So for many I would epxect this would be something one might consider inconsistency at writing which leads many people to turn to the "different writer" trope. Quite honestly I can see why and as a hypothesis is really valid or maybe if one takes the hypothesis that Odyssey was witten way after the Iliad that the author himself changed his mind on some stuff or reconsidered his sources etc.

However let's hypothesize for one second that this is a logical continuation of the story and character development (yeah I am not convinced on the different writer theory, fight me! XD) and let's just think for a second the context of the scene based on what we know from the Iliad and the Epic Cycle in general.

We know that Helen lived in Troy a decade (yes for the "20 years theory" I have answered an ask here). She knew these people for a long time. We also know from the Iliad as she stood next to Priam, giving him information about the Greek leaders and kings and we know that she was not judged by him or any other of the Trojans. If anything she was blaming herself quite a lot for it. Even in the funeral of Hector she expresses her love for him (not romantic love guys) and her respect for him. She had no real hate for the Trojans even if she already had a change of heart or Aphrodite's spell on her had weakened. For the reasons why she stayed I also answered another ask right here but apart from that reason we know she wanted to go home so why did she do that to the Greeks? Well in the same scene Menelaus seems to be excusing his wife and he presents this very interesting explanation as to why she did it:

And then you came there: called by some god, no doubt, who wished to extend the glory of the Trojans

(Translation by me)

Menelaus seems to be excusing his wife once more and presents the hypothesis that Helen was inspired by some god or goddess (δαίμων) to go and disturb the Greeks inside the horse. Helen doesn't deny it but doesn;t confirm it either. In fact Telemachus speaks soon after and Helen orders the slaves to prepare stuff. The conversation on this subject seems to end there. So the one explanation could be that indeed Menelaus is correct and that Helen was once more either coersed or blackmailed by a god, potentially Aphrodite again, even if not mentioned, and went to the Greeks and tried to lure them out for the sakes of that god that wished better for Troy. It stands as an explanation as well.

However let's make things more spicy and let's assume that Helen was not influenced by divine intervention by the gods and instead it was her own free will to do what she did. If yes then why? So here's a hypothesis. Before in her narration Helen talks about how she met Odysseus and recognized him in his disguise. She also mentions how Odysseus informs her on the plan to take Troy:

And then he entrusted me everything he had in mind for the Achaeans

(translation by me)

How much he told her is not clear. Did he already have in mind to make the horse so he tells her that? Maybe he warns her on the one day that the Achaeans shall enter the city without speaking on precice details? Either way Helen would know Odysseus was up for some ploy and she knew she had to act fast. Menelaus also mentions how Deiphobos was with her at that time (how Menelaus knew? Well probably Helen told him). So immediately if Helen had a reason to do what she did, we have two reasons;

She wanted to persuade Deiphobos on her loyalty to Troy. Arguably when Odysseus escaped, as Helen said, he killed many Trojans on his way out. Most likely her loyalty must have been questioned at that tensed time thus being accompanied by her new husband all the time. By doing this, ellegedly tormenting the Greeks, was showing to Deiphobos her loyalty to Troy (manipulating him into believing that she was on their side) plus showing him like "See? Nothing here. No danger whatsoever". She probably knew already Odysseus would be inside and he wouldn't fall for her trick and she trusted him and her husband to hold the rest of the Achaeans inside the horse so they wouldn't cry out. So not only did she show to Deiphobos that she was on Trojan side but also manipulated him into believing indeed there was no danger.

Two, this part is the best, in my opinion, she was signaling to the GREEKS inside the horse. She called them all by name by immitating their wives. More or less tells to them that she KNOWS and that she knows EXACTLY who they are and who their families are, and that she could have betrayed them at any moment if she wanted to but she chose not to because she was on their side. Like that she would have more hopes not to be killed by vengeful Greeks during the siege of Troy or her daughter by Paris, Helen, and ensure her and her daughter's safety. Also signaling her change of heart in person to them.

Conclusions:

Like I said before I do not believe Odyssey was written by a different author altogether and Odyssey itself gives us some very good explanations on Helen's behavior. I am actually willing to side with my second hypothesis. Perhaps Menelaus was talking literally when mentioning a god but I tend to believe he was more like metaphorical. In an essence "what's gotten into you?" manner. However I tend to believe that regardless of whether there was or wasn't a godly intervention in Helen's behavior, Helen is extremely intelligent and she knows that after the fuss Odysseus caused (literally a Greek spy in Troy, possibly two if we count Diomedes too) that got in, stole the Palladium of Athena and killed people on their way out might as well throw suspicion on her and she needed to make sure she would continue have the love of Priam, which was literally her shield of protection at that moment. Two she knew that her husband was coming for her and that he was potentially furious and if it wasn't him, some other of the Greeks would be or they would get battle-drunk with their success. She wasn't going to rely only on Odysseus's silver tongue that he persuaded the Greeks on her change of heart but she wanted to make sure that they knew on her talents and power and the way that she could literally give them away at any moment and that she chooses not to because she is Greek like them and because she had a change of heart!

I hope you find this analysis interesting! Let me know in the comments below! I'd love to hear your thoughts! ^_^

[sunflowersinthedirt]

AFTER SHOW | PAUL MCCARTNEY 🎸

Where Paul really wants you and can't stand hiding it anymore OR where you have low self-esteem and don't see yourself as feminine and beautiful enough to attract anyone's attention.

female!reader, fluff.

| mentions of alcohol and pot, mature language and reader not feeling feminine enough. Written in first person. |

english is not my first language and gifs are not mine.

—

1965.

Nothing could have prepared me to see Paul being interviewed after the tenth show of that tour in the hotel by this girl. Sure, it was a usual scene, but she… She was beautiful. Red-haired, medium height, and rosy-skinned. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls people order for decoration. Delicate, polite and apparently funny. The hazel eyes of the english singer were solely focused on her, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

It made me sad in a way. But my mind couldn't figure out if it was because Paul was close to such a beautiful woman with a courteous smile for so long without me seeing him next to a woman, or if it was because she was everything I was not: Too beautiful.

The truth is it was always like this. I always had to compare myself with every woman who got close to the boys. I had been working with the Beatles for almost four months and had yet to see any erratic behavior from them towards me or any woman - They´are flirty, but not disrespectfull. Far from me wanting all of them, but sometimes a doubt would light up inside me: Am I pretty enough for a Beatle to notice me? Of course, not just them, but any man.


I walked down the hotel hall to my room, not wanting to notice anyone's presence there and hoping they wouldn't see me either. I went up to the corridor of the rooms so quickly that not even a camera flash would catch me if someone photographed me there. I heard footsteps behind me and felt a tap on my arm.

— Where are you going in such a hurry, luv? — It was Paul. His warm touch sent an electric current and a shiver through my stomach. I felt my face heating up too, but it could have been the wine Brian offered me earlier at the after show. — To my room. — I replied, a bit intoxicated by his scent and how close he was to me. Either I was too tipsy for having had two glasses of weak Chilean wine with Brian Epstein, or Paul's eyes had a different sparkle that night.

— Can I be your company? — He asked boldly and irresistibly. — I want to get out of here too.

I nodded positively. Paul and I walked down the room corridor, and I felt drained by the energy of the place. Paul seemed tired and high... His eyes continued to disturb me. I couldn't judge him because I was this high too.

His eyes shone and disturbed me in an attractive way, of course. After seeing him with the red-haired girl, I started comparing myself to her automatically. I wasn't unkempt, but I didn't feel feminine enough either. It was always a battle to get ready and force myself to see myself as a feminine woman. And being in Paul's company that night had a strange atmosphere.

Why would he prefer to stay with someone like me, so clumsy? He was my best friend... But what could I offer him if we were seen together? In my mind, we simply didn't match. Paul and I were closer because we had similar tastes. I adored him, and he was totally my type. A Liverpool gentleman, contrary to the thoughts of people who had prejudice against Liverpudlians. He liked photographs, good music, and had accompanied me (when he had time) to cinemas and theaters.

When I entered that room, I had almost forgotten he was my company that night. A cold, electrifying air passed through me, and my body shivered. I felt small in the vastness of the night of the tenth show of that tour. I was too lucky and knew it, knew that girls my age would die and kill to be in my place and work with the Beatles.

— What's wrong with you? — He asked, breaking the silence. A tone of concern was perceived. — You seem too quiet today.

I threw myself onto the double bed in the room. It was soft, comfortable, and had pocket springs. I heard the springs' noise, and my body wobbled a bit with the impact of my lazy throw onto it. I wanted to stay in that position forever if possible.

— It's nothing. — I lied. I didn't want to worry Paul. He and the other guys had an incredible performance at the show today. Brian was proud and trusted me blindly to accompany them in all this madness. — Just tired, and I drank too.

Paul threw himself on the mattress next to me, very close to me. Now we both stared at the white ceiling of the hotel room.

— Darling, stop it. I know when something is wrong with you. I didn't even see you smile today. — Paul commented, now turning to me. He knew, he knew me well... And I kind of hated myself for making it too obvious. It took me a while to turn to him and take my eyes off that ceiling.

Not because the hotel room ceiling was more interesting than Paul but because I could commit a big madness being centimeters away from his face. I could blame the earlier glasses of Chilean wine or realize that I had been in love with Paul for a long time and stop hurting myself so much. I knew this would end our friendship in a bad way.

— I smiled when you guys were on stage. — I didn't look at him. I could feel Paul's gaze burning my cheeks.

— I didn't see... — He said, his voice huskier, whining. Almost a moan. — Look at me, love. Tell me what's going on, hm? — He pleaded. I felt butterflies in my stomach. The wine's effect seemed to be affecting me more than it should.

I started to wonder if there was something more in the wine or if I was drunk intoxicated by Paul.

— Paulie... — I whispered his name, finally looking at him. I wanted to laugh nervously, so I bit my lips. Paul looked at me with the most needy expression in the world at that moment. Either that or I was going completely crazy...

Shit. He's beautiful, and I really liked him.

— Hm? — He murmured softly in response to me calling him. His eyes were low and dark, a look I had never seen in all this time working with the Beatles. — If I ask you something, would you be upset with me? — He asked, his voice low and firm.

— You know that I can't be angry with you. Just.. go ahead...— I blinked quickly, trying not to appear intoxicated by him.

— Can I? — He sounded nervous. — I mean, can I kiss you, darling? — He asked me. His hazel eyes locked on mine.

I took a deep breath, trying to process what I had just heard. It wasn't possible, was it? He wanted to kiss me. He. Wanted. To. Kiss. Me.

— Paul, I-

— I'm sorry. — He interrupted me, and I felt like an idiot. His eyes darkened, and the boy's face now had a sad expression. He sat on the bed with his back to me.

— Paul, I...

— It's just that I'm feeling different. I don't want to mess up our friendship. — He interrupted me again, and honestly, I couldn't be mad at him for interrupting me. I sat on the bed. Paul looked at the lamp, his long and curved eyelashes making a perfect drawing on his eyelid. I confirmed that even his profile was beautiful. — I'm kind of tired of this. And you keep disturbing my thoughts, you know? I can't sleep without thinking about you. — He finally confessed, now looking back at me. His thick lips moist and shining with his saliva.

My heart felt like a philharmonic band. He was driving me crazy.

— Y/N, I don't want to lose your-

I interrupted him and did the craziest thing. I silenced him with my lips on his. Paul gently held my face, his thumbs relaxed on my right cheek. I wanted to go fast, thirsty for him, he wanted to go slow. He tamed me like no one else could that night, tilting his head to deepen the lazy kiss. I felt like I would melt there... His mouth was warm, moist, the taste of wine sweetening my mouth. It was intimate and moved me like no man had ever done. The need for air became apparent, and we pulled apart, Paul still daring to steal a peck. Our lips swollen and red.

Suddenly, I felt shy. I had indeed kissed him, caught him by surprise. He had too, he kissed me back... Unbelievable that he reciprocated me and my repressed feelings.

— Paul... — I whispered, intoxicated, feeling my lips moist with his saliva. Our faces were still close but not close enough to be strange.

— Shh... — He gave me a long peck. — I know. Me too, darling.

And then nothing else mattered in that room but him and me.


[petitprincess1]

I've probably talked about this before, but this thought is even more solidified with Lucifer's behavior. But I adore how opposite the Deadly Sins are to their Sins:

Lucifer is meant to represent Pride, yet he has everything but that. He completely regrets giving people free will and is disgusted by his own subjects. Not to mention, he has depression and most definitely dislikes himself.

Asmodeus represents Lust, yet is in a romantic relationship with Fizzarolli. He also values consent and caring for your partner, considering Iglehart revealed that every partner shouldn't solely care for their partner on Valentine's. Also, he has Val's antennae in a vase, so he certainly does not care for abuse of any kind.

Beelzebub is supposed to be Gluttony, but her "lava lamp" stomach is constantly burning calories making her hungry. However, despite that, she makes sure her people are well-fed while making sure that they don't overindulge. This is backed by her bringing attention and concern to Blitzo getting too drunk at the party.

Belphagor works in Healthcare, which anyone would know is anything but Slothful. Essentially, she creates medications and hospitals so others can relax before her.

Judging by Wrath Imps, they're in charge of farming and providing food to Hell. That is a job that requires a lot of patience and care. Not only that, but Wrath Imps seem to reserve their anger only for when the time comes...or the festival lol. Satan, no doubt, is the same.

Mammon is greedy, don't get me wrong. However, he also still has to swindle and cheat to launch his projects. Hell, the man easily can make his own theme park, yet chooses to create a bootleg Loo Loo World. And it's an incredibly cheap-looking place, as well.

We haven't seen Envy yet, but judging by Glitz and Glam, it seems like the two are always performing. Even as their simply walking the carpet, they still are mirroring each other and posing. It's like their image and talent is more important than anything else. Plus, the stage ends up collapsing around them, and yet they are still more concerned whether they won Mammon's praise or not.

This is all so incredibly well thought out and makes what the Seven Virtues would be like

[bloodlineslut]

The Law of Obsession (Ch. 4) | Roman Reigns

Pairings: Roman Reigns x black! OC

Warnings: slight mention of violence, heated make out sesh

Word Count: 2.7k words

A/N: oouuu i'm trying to build this up so good ya'll. i am planning to have little glimpses of Roman's overprotective/toxic behavior towards anyone that wrongs Laila. But you know our lover girl not gonna see it lmao. delulu if you will.

On the drive to the club, Naomi talked to Jimmy with Jey butting in every few seconds, leaving Roman and Laila with their close proximity and inner thoughts.

She sat beside Roman with her body slightly angled away from him, trying to not be all up on him, but it seemed like no matter how much space she tried to put between them, he just took up so much room.

She kept catching whiffs of his cologne—it was a mix of marine accords and wood.

‘Oh my God, he smells so good.’ Laila thought to herself.

She could feel the warmth radiating from his arm that was mere centimeters away from hers. Every time the car hit a bump in the road, their arms rubbed up against one another’s, but she wasn’t complaining.

She heard the other three’s voices, but she wasn’t listening to their words. Her mind was filled with the burly man sitting right next to her.

“I’m just saying,” Jey’s voice spoke out. “You always say you ‘Big Jim’ but man, with Naomi you turn into ‘Baby Jim’!”

Naomi laughed at the nickname, covering her face with her hands.

“Aye shut up fool!” Jimmy shot back, pointing at his twin. “It ain’t my fault that you still single and don’t have nobo-”

“Nah nah! I got options, don’t get it twisted.”

“Okay, okay.” Jimmy put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Ya’ll argue too much.” Roman let out a low chuckle at the twins’ usual back-and-forth banter. “Jimmy can be a baby with his wife if he wants to.”

“Thank you! Somebody gets me!” Jimmy clapped his hands.

Jey huffed out and smacked his teeth. “Whatever, uce. Roman when was the last time you was all soft over somebody?” Jey knew what he was doing, judging by the death glare Roman gave him for a split second.

“That’s what I thought, uce.”

“They’re a little crazy…” Laila whispered, shifting her head towards Roman.

He scoffed. “Yea, try growing up with them. Everybody thought we were triplets.” He remembered that when they were younger, the twins would switch places and pull pranks on their family members, teachers, coaches, and even strangers.

“That’s hilarious.” Laila giggled, just imagining Jimmy and Jey being wild little boys.

In the midst of her thoughts, his resonant voice spoke again, gently to her. “How was school?”

Her lips upturned into a smile before she knew it. “It was good! A little boring, though. I actually had an exam today.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised, wanting to hear more. “Well, I know you aced it.”

Laila shrugged her shoulders, never getting her hopes up too much for tests in case she was disappointed. She was always that way, yet she can count on one hand how many times she’s ever failed a test.

“Hopefully…we’ll see,” she concluded.

She looked to her right, gazing out of the window as they passed all the buildings.

As Roman’s driver pulled up to the curb, the thumping of the LIV nightclub’s music could be felt in the chest of everyone.

Of course Jey was the first person to get out of the car before everyone else. When everyone got situated in standing on the sidewalk, Roman did a quick scope of the scene. He was used to doing this everywhere he went.

The bouncer caught sight of Roman and told the people who were next in line to wait, while he waved the group over.

“You guys are good to go on in to VIP.” This bouncer was actually one of Roman’s cousins that handled some people for him every now and then. He was skillfully trained in sharpshooting, and you can imagine why Roman kept him around.

“’Preciate it, Dwayne.”

“Anytime.”

The group crossed the threshold of the extravagant club, following Roman to one of the VIP sections that was adorned with long couches in separate sections.

Naomi pulled Laila close to her and she took a bunch of selfies as soon as they got settled on the couch. Laila would soon find out that Naomi loved to take pictures at every hangout the group did.

“Aye excuse me miss! Can we get some Tequila shots with lime and that salt around the rim?” Jey called out to the nearest waitress that was walking by with a tray. She turned to look at him and confirmed she’d be right back with the order.

As she sashayed away, Jey’s eyes followed her figure. “Damn…She bad as hell.”

“Jey, you don’t even know her.” Laila spoke up, feeling more comfortable.

He didn’t even turn to look at Laila as he replied back. “I’ll get to know her.”

She and Naomi shared a glance and giggled at Jey’s boldness, which only gets emphasized with the liquor.

Now that Laila was seated, not only did she get a chance to take in the scenery of the night life, but she noticed that Roman had left to go somewhere. Everyone was dressed to the nines, almost every girl in some height of heels. She saw everything ranging from girls dancing on each other to people full-on making out.

Roman’s presence returned to her side on the long couch as he sat down and manspread his legs, which Laila couldn’t help but notice every time he did so.

“Where’d you go? You missed Jey trying to shoot his shot with this girl.” Laila filled him in on the funny ordeal.

Roman turned his head to look at her. “Oh, I had to go talk to Dwayne about some…business.”

Laila’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Wait, he’s the bouncer right? I think you said his name before we walked in.”

He nods in confirmation and softly smiles. “Yep. He’s my cousin too.”

“Damn, are ya’ll related to everyone?”

That actually makes Roman let out a hearty chuckle, showcasing his pearly white teeth. “Pretty much, baby.”

The nickname doesn’t go unnoticed. She looks down at her lap and shyly smiles. Roman loved how he could make her all shy and flustered. It made him feel like only he mattered.

That’s exactly what he needed and yearned for.

To protect her.

From any and everything.

By any means necessary.

He shook away those thoughts that were beginning to creep into his mind if anyone tried to harm her.

The waitress that Jey was trying to holler at came back with a tray full of the requested shots and limes.

As she placed everything on the table, Jey was giving her the full treatment of a guy shooting his shot at a girl.

“That’s my uce man.” Jimmy said lowly to them, making Naomi just playfully roll her eyes.

Apparently whatever he said worked because soon, he was putting his number in her phone. After they exchanged a few longing glances, she returned back to work.

“Whew! Aye, let’s toast to that!” Everyone grabs a shot glass and a lime, doing the traditional method.

Laila almost couldn’t bear the bitterness of the Tequila, but Roman downed it like it was water. He put the shot glass back on the table as he took note of Laila’s inquiring gaze.

“Been doin’ it a long time. It’s an acquired taste for sure.” He answers her unspoken question.

She nods in understanding.

The DJ then changes the song to Whatever You Like by T.I. and Naomi stood up, grabbing Laila so they could go to the LED-lit dance floor.

As the two danced to the catchy lyrics, they held hands, spun each other, and danced on each other.

Roman’s eyes wouldn’t dare leave Laila’s figure. Even in jeans and a top, she was still the most beautiful woman in this club.

He was imagining his lips on hers, slowly taking over her with his love as she could do nothing but take it and moan in his ear, begging for more.

He’d buy her anything she could ever desire; clothes, shoes, purses, cars, a house, he didn’t care what it was. Though he could tell that she’s the type to not be materialistic.

“Noo, Roman that is way too expensive!”

“Baby, please I bought it for you. Don’t worry about the price.”

A smile was starting to creep onto his face but was swiftly wiped off as a different waitress set a drink down.

But it wasn’t the fact that she set a drink down. It was what she said as she did it.

“The gentleman over there sent this for the lady in the white top and jeans. Enjoy!” She said then walked away.

He followed the line of vision that the waitress was referring to until he laid his eyes on a pathetic piece of shit.

The man was looking, smiling at a dancing Laila, saying things to his friends around him.

Roman’s eyes narrowed and his jaw started twitching.

He could just picture it. His large hands around the man’s throat, watching him struggle and plead for help as the life slowly drains out of his perverted eyes.

He rubbed his beard, trying to calm himself down, but it wasn’t helping much.

Jimmy and Jey silently gave each other a look, knowing what Roman was thinking.

Roman couldn’t hear the sad excuse for a man, but he could damn sure read his crusty lips. “I would fuck her so good,” is what Roman made out.

The anger that was building up quickly inside of him was unreal. It was a different type of anger this time. He let his teeth scrape over his bottom lip as he contemplated beating the man to a pulp.

That would scare Laila, though and he didn’t want that.

He wanted her to run to him, not away from him. He pulled out his phone and sent Dwayne a text describing the man and the section that he was in, stating that he needed basic information on him.

Roman looked to his left to see Jey talking to his new girlfriend or whatever, but Jimmy was just sitting by himself.

This club was honestly never Roman’s favorite, but then again no club was his favorite. He’d much rather be in his home in sweatpants, surrounded by Laila.

“Jimmy, you ‘bout ready to go? Looks like Jey got a new girl.” He motioned to the girl who was damn near on Jey’s lap as they were talking and laughing about God knows what.

“Yea uce. At least the girls had fun?” He motioned to the two stumbling back over to their section, out of breath and huge smiles plastered on their faces.

Jimmy could tell. He stood up, gently grabbing Naomi’s face as he looked into her eyes. “You drunk, ain’t ya? And you was talking about me and Jey.” He took her hand in his and shook his head.

If Naomi was drunk, then that means so was Laila. It still surprised the boys how quickly those two became so close so fast. It was like they were childhood friends or high school best friends.

Roman stood up, towering over Laila as she followed his concerned eyes. “Yea, you’re drunk too huh?”

Laila coyly shook her head, smiling at his strict gaze. “No…”

Roman raised his eyebrows in disbelief and amusement. “Alright princess. Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed her hand as the now 6-membered group walk outside to Roman’s driver.

They all got in their seats in the stretched interior, continuing their own respective conversations.

One thing about Laila was that…off the liq’ she tended to let her desires rush past the gates that usually kept them in line.

She wanted to feel his lips on hers, longing for that intimacy with him. She’d only ever kissed one guy and it wasn’t even that good, so she knows with Roman it would be an indescribable experience.

It seemed as though time was moving faster because next thing you know, they were pulling to a stop in front of Jimmy and Naomi’s house.

“Thanks man, 'preciate you always!” Jey shook the driver’s hand before wrapping his arm around the girl he met—who none of them still knew her name.

“Come on Jessika, so you can show me uhhh—what you was talking about at the club.” Jey rambled, leading her to the front door and finally revealing the girl's name.

Next was Naomi and Jimmy’s turn to exit the Escalade. “Aight uce, maybe better luck next time?” He was referring to the rather boring and uneventful night.

“Ain’t no next time.” Roman responded, but smirked regardless.

Naomi and Laila then hugged each other goodbye, but before Naomi walked farther up the driveway, she held her hand up like a phone to her ear and mouthed, “Call me tomorrow.”

10 minutes later, the driver pulled to a stop in front of Roman’s luxurious condo. “This is your place?!” Laila gawked as she looked out of the car window.

Roman chuckled getting out and holding the door open for her to get out as well. While she was busy staring in awe at the building, Roman thanked his driver again before he drove off.

The sound of the car engine slowly fading away caught Laila’s attention. “Hey big head. How’d you know that I wanted to come to your house?” She sassily folds her arms over her chest.

“You know, you’re bold when you’re drunk?” Roman puts the key into the lock and twists it open, allowing Laila to enter first.

“Hmph. Maybe I am.” She replies back coolly. He leads her into the guest bathroom. “Stay right here, don’t move.”

Despite her confident nature at the moment, she does just as he says and he re enters with a T-shirt and sweatpants.

“You can change into these to be more comfortable. I’mma get you some water.” He walks down the hallway to his kitchen, getting her a nice cold glass of water.

He noticed her now in the living room, his clothes on her body. It was so attractive. He knows that she could smell him on the clothes.

Walking to the couch she was sat on, he handed her the glass of water and watched as she nearly gulped it all down, wiping her mouth after to catch any drops.

He knew he had to do something.

Do something to let her know that she was his and no one else’s.

That little stunt that idiot tried to pull tonight? Never fucking again. From here on out, everyone would know that she’s his.

They were now staring at each other, looking deeply into one another’s eyes, not saying a word. Both of their breathing was more pronounced, quicker, louder.

“Laila.” He breathed out, slowly leaning in closer to her awaiting lips.

As soon as his mouth came in contact with hers, he knew there would never be another woman out there for him.

He took the lead in the kiss, his lips overtaking hers as his hand came up to rest on the nape of her neck.

Softly kissing her was like heaven and then he added tongue to it.

Roman’s tongue sensually licked her lips, asking for permission to enter. She was a puddle of submission to him as he hooked his hand under her thigh to drag her to straddle his lap as they continued to make out.

Laila’s hands were in his hair, it threatening to fall from his bun, as she sat there and let the man sensually and sloppily kiss her.

There was strings of spit between their lips, their desire physically showing. But that wasn’t the only thing that was physically showing.

Laila moved a certain way and felt the bulge—the huge bulge—in Roman’s black pants. This snapped her out of her reverie and she pulled away.

Roman knows exactly why she pulled away, he noticed everything about her. He knew she hadn’t gone that far with a guy before.

He was the perfect gentleman, not even making a big deal out of it. He just simply kissed her forehead and her knuckles, saying that she could sleep in his bed and that he would take the couch.

As Laila laid in his king-sized bed, it should’ve been the best night of sleep that she got in her life, but the thoughts and flashbacks of the heated actions earlier were enough to keep her awake for an hour before she could actually succumb to sleep.

taglist!: @duhitzkay380 @emotionalhottiee @minsingular @potatosackk @vebner37 @lov3rla03 @romanreignsbae

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[avifaunaa]

i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ] [ pt.4 ]

Authors Note: my head hurts and it is not because rio is holding a gun to it. i was not entirely happy with how this turned out so pleaaaase be gentle. did i forget anyone in the taglist? i hope not.

MORE useless facts? More likely than you think:

Elvis Presley had his first song released on the radio in July of 1954 but he himself wouldn't reach popularity and fame until 1956

Adding to this -- he was considered a bad influence to the teenage youth of the time because his genre of music was Rock'N'Roll which most of white society believed to be "devil's music" and had extreme racist connotations to it.

The fifties was full of wackie things but some of my favorites include their slang. It actually wasn’t too entirely far off from modern day slang and we still use some of it [ example 1: a popular girl / woman in the fifties could have been called a queen in slang — we use this term today to describe anyone in general who we hold in high regard or who has a certain aspect of note ] [ examples 2: ankle-biter was used to describe small children, and dreamboats were used to describe cute guys, and “what’s the big deal?” was asked in place of, “who cares, man?” lol ]

Reader is notably pointed out to be somewhat terrified at being caught with Rio and it’s mentioned that their reputations and lives could be ruined. This was entirely too true, but it was also very unfortunately illegal to be homosexual in the United States during their flashbacks and was extremely tricky in theCivil Rights world. The Lavender Scare prevented [ suspected ] homosexuals from working for the federal government when it was enacted in 1953. It took years to unravel this mess and it wasn’t until 2003 when Lawerence v. Texas ruled that the “homosexual conduct” law was unconstitutional and therefore decriminalizes homosexuality in general and helps create a new stepping stone into legalizing gay marriages. The LGBTQIA+ laws have always been finicky in the U.S.

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FIVE | PART SIX

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Life becomes something you know longer had control over in your small enclosure in which Rio kept you. She seems to be hovering more and leaving you alone less, adding to your lowered temper and a heightened protectiveness she can't reign in. Her lack of watchfulness catches the eye of someone who seeks out Death for themselves . . .

Content Warnings: Still dark, that will not be changing soon -- flashbacks that contain period-typical homophobia and views on gender-norms, threats of violence [ rio receiving, as always ], misuse of magic [ rio ], manipulation, disassociation [ reader ], PREGNANCY and symptoms associated w/ it: morning sickness, cravings , fatigue, etc. [ r ], forced housewifeism[?] [ reader ], possessive behavior, more intense Stockholm Syndrome, dub-con bordering on non-con [ r!receiving ], fingering [ r!receving ], first time lesbian sex, rio using sex and r's naivety to avoid being called out lmao, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES

Word Count: ~6.3k

1954

The kiss was everything you've ever wanted and nothing you should ever have thought about in the first place. Rio had promised nobody could have seen it, the way she held you so gently with softer hands than any man could ever have.

But even when you both exited the Ferris Wheel ride at a proper distance, you could not help but glance around with paranoia buzzing around your brain. What if even one person saw? Westview was large enough to not know everyone but small enough to know enough people that gossip and news would cause a deep rift.

Nobody was looking at either of you -- or acting as though there had been a whisper of what you had just done in that car where the stars were your only judges.

Your lips still had a tingle to them and there was a taste that remained in your mouth -- one you knew would be remembered for the rest of your life. It was wild and free and so Rio and that is why it was so wrong.

The bustling of the fair soon became background noise as the two of you and many other patrons were making your way out of the fairgrounds toward the fields where Rio's car was. You held your duck prize in your arms -- the only other witness to your damning kiss.

You could feel her eyes on you during the trek to the car, a weight you would not address until you were inside and away from overhearing ears and busybodies that had nothing but snooping to fill their time.

Rio opened your door for you and waited stubbornly until you got inside. She smiled sweetly as you bent low to get into the passengers seat and shut the door before rounding to the other side to the driver's seat.

The car started up and the radio followed -- in the middle of a brand new artist that your mother warned you to not take to.

Elvis Presley had a nice voice and his music was fresh -- even if many of the older generation feared it would lead their children down the wrong path. You quite liked his song even if your neighbors mumbled about wondering where the world was going.

Rio didn't start to drive off after the car started, instead letting it run as she held her hands flat on the steering wheel and clearing her throat. "Are you okay?"

“You shouldn’t have . . . “ you started, stuttering out like a bad engine as your throat felt dryer than it had been when you were thinking of what to say, “. . . Why did you . . . You shouldn’t have,” you repeated, deciding the question was not worth trying to seek an answer for.

Rio, however, didn’t appear to agree. When you mustered up the courage to look — actually look — at her, she had some sort of expression on her face. An expression that puzzled and scared you.

“Why not?” she only asked eventually.

Two simple words that formed an entirely too difficult question. Why not? she asked, as if you had told her no, no going out for dinner tonight.

Rio had kissed you. Publicly and without hesitation or an ounce of concern for what consequences could have followed should you have been seen.

“It isn’t right, Rio,” you told her.

“Whose word claim that it is not right for me to kiss you?” she pushed. A hand was covering yours, cooler on contact but comforting all the same. “You kissed me back.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away, ignoring the way she pointed out the facts and tried to reveal your true self.

“You can’t even look at me in the eye when you tell me it isn’t right, Angel,” Rio continued softly — so softly that you trembled in place. “That tells me that more than anything, it was exactly right and you’re too scared to embrace it.”

“I am scared,” you whispered, “and perhaps that is what you should be as well. They are warning people about . . . About homosexuals, Rio. They’re teaching society how to spot them and . . . I simply cannot fall into this affair with you. I could lose everything.”

A soft pressure applied to your hand, forcing you to turn your head to her. You didn’t mind if she saw your tears — she’s seen them countless times after the death of your husband.

“The world cannot tell us how to feel, Angel,” she stated firmly, eyes hardened as she reached over with her empty hand. You flinched — and she only paused briefly — before she continued to reach out and brush your tears away. “They fear what they do not understand and they only understand what they think they know. What they know is very little, and thus rebirths a cycle of the same thing.”

You sniffed, lowering your face into her swiping thumb as her fingers made light strokes that captured any wayward tears.

“I don’t have anymore room for pain, Rio,” you rasped finally. “I am at my threshold.”

“Then trust me one more time,” the woman murmured, not quite begging but coaxing and sweet as she moved the hand on top of yours to play with your hair, “I would never hurt you.”

A million things could go wrong — you were thinking of so many right now alone. What if your neighbors happened by and peeked into the window? Your parents inquired too deeply and you couldn’t keep a secret? The gossip mill began to burst into flames because too many eyes caught you and Rio too many times in different ways?

Soft lips to your forehead ripped you away from spiraling, and that kiss alone made you feel like everything could be okay . . . Even for a moment.

“Okay,” you whispered as you tipped over the edge of caution and into dangerous waters, “I trust you, Rio.”

2024

There was sweat collecting on your forehead and sticking to the back of your shirt as Rio held your hair back for the fifth time this morning. It started around three A.M. — startling awake and bumping your shoulder roughly into the wall to get into the bathroom.

“How do you have anything left in your stomach?” Rio wondered as you spit the remnants of bile into the bowl.

Your fingernails bite into the rivets of the tile, keeping yourself curled over the opening. Another shudder rippled over you, the nausea painful this time around.

But Rio brushed fingers against your temple and then the nausea was gone.

“No magic,” you rasped. Your nausea was gone but the you throat burned and you had an awful aftertaste remaining on your tongue.

Snot was collecting on the ends of your nostrils and you reached up to wipe it but Rio was already there, toilet paper dabbing away the mucus.

“Don’t . . . Don’t touch me,” you hissed meekly.

Rio snorted softly, hand returning to the back of your neck and massaging gently. “Want to get in the shower? Or do you want a bath with some lavender salts?”

I just want you to leave me alone, your hindbrain murmured, but you moved your gaze toward those dark eyes. They were concerned and her nose had a wrinkle to it like she did when in thought.

“The bath, please.”

Gentle fingers sweeping your hair back, tucking behind ears. Warm lips on your damp temple. “A bath it is, sweetheart. Think you can stand?”

“No.”

Rio helped you to lean against the back of the wall while she started the jacuzzi style bath, adding the bath salts and some dried flower petals for good measure. You watched her exit the bedroom, too tired to suspiciously ask her what the hell she was doing. She returned with a few items — a plate of chocolate covered strawberries drizzled with chocolate icing, your water bottle that magically had fresh ice and water, a book you were currently reading through, and a box that you couldn’t read the label of.

You closed your eyes and wrapped an arm around your stomach in an attempt to prevent the room from spinning. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you relax.”

You didn’t respond until you heard her approach you again and balance something light on your knee. You opened your eyes and moved them to what she was trying to give you.

A store-bought pregnancy test.

Your brain-fog cleared very quickly — replaced by a rush of frustration and an unexplainable emotion.

“I don’t need the fucking test and we both know it, Rio,” you started, hating how unlike yourself you sounded. You quickly bit the inside of your cheek until you could taste blood. Why must she rub in the humiliation and helplessness further?

"You told me no magic," Rio reminded you dutifully, but with a sprinkle of some sort of warning that the animal in you couldn't seem to ignore. "This is how we get the confirmation without the use of magic."

Your lip curled in reaction to her words as she balanced the box on your knee precariously, palm keeping it steady while her fingers became weights against the skin of your knees.

"You used magic when you . . ." You could not bring yourself to speak your thoughts out loud, afraid of what it might mean to have it in the open. "You know I don't need it," you spat.

"This isn't a punishment, Angel," she replied, tone softening the blow of her words as her other hand made home on your ankle. "This is a way to understand that my magic only did so much and your body did the rest. If nothing else -- would it not settle your mind better having the physical proof instead of feeling like you're going crazy?"

White-hot anger replaced whatever numbness had taken root in your heart -- a common experience in the time Rio had recaptured you. "I didn't get the choice, Rio. You took that away from me, remember?"

Something in her eyes muted -- like a flame being extinguished or headlights being turned off suddenly. It was swift, and she did not dwell on it as she removed her hand from your knee until the box dangled until falling into your lap.

"Just take it," the witch told you, reaching forward to stick some hair behind your shoulder. "It will answer many questions you've been unable to stop repeating in to yourself over and over. It will also put an end to the cycle of anxiety and what-ifs in your head. We will deal with the aftermath later."

She says that so fucking confidently, like she just . . . knows you.

She does.

Then you reel back on the last sentence of what she said and stared blankly in her direction.

The aftermath . . . the fucking aftermath. Rio knew the results already and still insisted on you taking it as though she fucking cared that it would ease some of your worries. The relief of getting a confirmation of the sickness you felt would be replaced by the endless gaping hole of realization you'd be trapped.

You took the box in hand and clutched it like a lifeline, nearly crushing it as you stared daggers at the woman face to face with you.

“Get out.”

Rio eyes you momentarily, debating on whether or not to listen to your demand. Eventually she does, and shuts the door behind you. You remain in place for five minutes longer and then slowly get to your feet and peel open the box.

You take the test and set it in the sink before undressing for your bath. Rio did make it look so inviting and you didn’t miss the chance to sink deep into the bath water, a breath escaping deep from your nostrils.

Your hand drifted down to your abdomen where so much of your turmoil currently lies and yet . . .

The way Rio had looked at you was both emotionally taxing and empowering and perhaps that was the most significant aspect of it all. She was clever in her ways — her slow, slow, invasion into your life the first time and how quickly she adapted the second go around.

You do not read your book even though you desire to. The bath overtook your senses and your mind not long after sinking into the tub. Your hair was pulled up and your thoughts were slowly beginning to drift from the worry and frustration into contentment that you chose to embrace while it lasted.

You fell asleep — at least, you were sure you did — because Rio opened the door and startled you. You blinked and rose upward against the slope of the tub and watched the witch move toward you with bleary eyes until she was on her knees, arm resting on the edge of the tub.

“Feeling any better, Angel?” she asked. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was concern in that question.

You were too tired to fight, too tired to put up a front. Your anger and dismay were a coiled, rigid ball inside of your soul and it was exhausting trying to unwind it and make it a weapon against Rio.

Your fist rose to your chest and you let out a shallow breath, rubbing the spot where those emotions remain dormant until you reached inside deep, deep, deep . . .

“Angel?”

You flutter your attention back to her. She’s frowning and the lines along her lips give you the impression of a woman with the daily stressors — a mortal that knows her time is limited.

You hated that she gave herself those details, that she made herself look so fucking human.

You breathed out again and let your hand fall back into the lavender scented water. “I’m fine, just tired,” you told her truthfully. “I think I dozed off.”

Rio let out a half-laugh, quiet and cut off as she softened her smile with adoration that gave you this twisted feeling of affection you remember once freely giving.

You wished you could hate her more than you were growing to love her again — but Rio knew exactly what she was doing and you had no defenses to prevent it.

And now your exhaustion and anxiety were tearing apart the last vestiges of your resolve. She reached her hand over and stroked your bare shoulder tenderly, and goddamnit you cracked under the touch. The gentleness and how your body became relaxed.

“Let’s empty the tub and get you showered,” Rio murmured, offering the kindness of suggestion rather than ordering you, “and then we can go downstairs and watch a movie.”

Piece by piece she removed your carefully crafted exterior, hardened by years and yet easily broken by her intricate mindset alone.

“Okay,” you agreed, watching as she shifted down the large tub and dipping her hand inside to search for the stopper. You stood up and crossed your arms over the front of your body, head swimming.

Rio held out her slender hand to you, palm upward and locking eyes with you. It was an offer to help you step out of the tub as if she knew you what you were feeling -- because of course she did.

You took her hand and she was so gentle as she curled her fingers through yours and guided you out of the tub and toward the large shower.

"You look green," Rio murmured as she slid open the door and guides you to sit on the tiled seat inside of the shower. "Wait right here, okay, Angel? I'm going to get undressed and I'll help you."

"Rio . . ." You crossed your ankles and watched her back out and begin to remove her layers. "Rio I can shower on my own. The dizziness is wearing off."

"I'd rather not take that chance, sweetheart," the black-haired beauty countered as she finished undressing and stepped back inside and began fiddling with the handles of the shower. You tried not to stare at her as her pale form moved passed you like a ghost.

You were sure your skin was turning red from the sheer embarrassment of her being naked and so close . . . the last time that happened it wasn't in your favor and it tainted the memories that were once good.

Fighting was tiring, and being trapped here was difficult. You were scared and traumatized but something Rio never did was harm you -- not like she couldn’t if she truly desired to do so. You have seen the damage she and other witches can do.

Perhaps it was time to just . . . Find a middle ground. Somewhere where you don’t have to rip each other open whenever you crossed paths.

Would that end better? For both of you?

She must have felt your eyes on her because the water turned on and she turned around. Droplets soaked into her skin and she leaned back against the wall, watching you while you watched her.

“You’re very quiet which means you’re thinking heavy,” Rio regarded, not a question but rather an observation from the woman who has known you far longer than people usually know one another. “Wanna share?”

You blink at her through the rain shower-head and slowly lifted one of your hands and extended your arm. It crossed into the falling water just as Rio’s eyebrows shot up into her damp hairline.

“Help me up?” you said to her. Not a defeat, no shame. You ensured to bury your hatchet behind a certain line and she would need to tread it close.

She pushed off the wall and slid her fingers into yours, leaning down to pull you up until you were pressed together under the heat of the showerhead, breasts touching, noses brushing.

“Are you okay?” she inquired, seeking out something that she wouldn’t be getting. You were burying apart of yourself so deeply that not even you would likely find it again — but that was fine. She didn’t need that part of you and nor did you.

You allowed a smile to cross your features, timid and true as you felt in that moment. “I think so. Just tired and scared.”

Rio breathed out a heavy sigh and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug that surprised even you. Rio wasn’t much of a hugger even if she was touchy. But you rest your chin on her shoulder and close your eyes as bullets of piercing water seep into your skin, washing away the ruins and remains of who you used to be.

1955

You and Rio had your own New Years Eve celebration with some of her colleagues from the drugstore. You were initially hesitant to agree to the party due to the suspicion and questions it would raise, but Rio was on the opposite end of the scale from you.

“Do you think you could make those creamed peas and onions that you seem to get perfect everytime, Angel?” your . . . Partner? was asking you as she adjusted her work outfit for the day in the bathroom mirror.

“I wouldn’t see why not, but Rio —“

“Chicken pot pie would be the main dish to go well, I think,” she continued over your attempt to question her as she came out of the bathroom, makeup applied.

“Rio.”

“Lemon pie for desert,” she was saying, and you clenched your fists in your lap.

“Rio!” you shouted, overwhelmed and frustrated at being ignored.

She dropped altogether and eyes you, pausing whatever it was she had started doing. “I do not,” you said, in a shaky but lowered tone, “believe it is in our best interests to host any sort of party. Have you flipped your lid?”

Rio huffed at your verbiage. She wasn’t fond of using slang that seemed to be growing popular as the years progressed, but some of it was getting its hooks into you — and no amount of her kissing you could stop you from saying them to her between fits of giggles.

But you weren’t joking right now, and she could see how tightly wound you were physically. Your hands curled into your nightgown and your eyes darting nervously around the room like you were afraid something would leap from the shadows.

Rio had to remember that her ideas of what seemed okay were too far along compared to yours — she had thousands of years on you and that put things in perspective for her that you had yet to see.

Such as giving a shit what society thinks about you and her in the privacy of your own home.

She decided her best course of option was to deescalate and comfort before you reverted back into that part of you she still hadn’t been able to penetrate.

“Aw, Angel,” she said as she glided over to you and sat down next to you on the bed, sweeping up one of your hands in hers. “Is that’s what got you all busted up?”

Your lips pursed, but you notably did not jerk your hand from hers or move away. Good, you wanted her comfort.

“I meant what I said when we first started . . . Doing this,” you told her, adding a hint of firmness for good measure. “We have to be careful, Rio, we could be arrested.”

“I will not let that happen,” your partner said in a tone that had an edge to it, one you’ve not heard from her before.

“You won’t be able to stop it if we get caught and reported!” you shouted again, too strung up to sit still. You got to your feet and tucked your hands in your underarms as you shuffled to the windows to peer out into the leaking sunrise. “We don’t have the privilege of being like the Cassidy’s or the Cook’s, we have to remember what happens to people like us.”

Rio stayed where she was and rubbed her face. “I know you’re concerned — and I can see how it might create the fear of being caught, but I don’t think we’re under suspicion.”

“You don’t think?” you asked, turning on your heel. “You — you have to be sure. If you doubt . . . If you falter in whatever this is for one second, we could never find jobs, never live a normal life. . .”

“I’m not the only one who needs to remember that,” she retorted, not unkindly but pointedly, eyes sharp like a lioness.

Anything else you wanted to say died in your throat. The two of you stared at one another like you always did, the silent communication that held more words than most of your actual conversation.

Your eyes dropped bashfully and you understood she was right. Everything you felt was new and scary and wrong. But if you were experiencing those things, it should have occurred to you that perhaps Rio was too.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her after a brief, pregnant silence. “I shouldn’t have shouted.”

You heard the bed groan as Rio’s weight shifted off of it, the soft barefoot steps across the carpet. Then a hand cupping your cheek as she guided your face to peer at hers. She was so beautiful and she was everything that made what you knew your soul to be content.

The turmoil you fell into about this affair — was it an affair? — was so brushed away when she touched you like this. It burned you like a hot pan and healed your deepest wounds that no surgery would ever manage to fix.

In that alone — you knew she was who your being was drawn to. What the instinctual, animal side of your brain desired even though gospel and presidents warned of the dangers of these desires.

“When you shout it means you’re showing me something that you don’t normally reveal,” Rio admitted as she held you in the rising light of morning, “You lower that perfectly trained woman of etiquette and though she’s just as beautiful, I can’t help but want to see more beneath just her.”

It was a surprise — not because Rio had said it, it’s Rio — mostly due to the fact that you were never to give into the ugliest of your emotions.

“Shouting isn’t . . . Well, I shouldn’t do it. It’s not becoming and you didn’t deserve my anger," you deflected, averting your eyes as best you could. You did not keep your gaze away for long -- you felt drawn to peer at her again.

Rio was smiling once again, this time more mischievous and probing. “Oh, Angel. I don’t need you to pretend to not feel around me. I want it all — down to the very last drop of anger and resentment you hold.”

“I have no resentment, don’t be silly.”

A lie so terribly spoken that she grasped your chin and dragged you close, lips brushing. “Oh, yes you do. You have so much of it built up and it’s mixing with those other painful ones, too. Anger. Despair. Oh, it makes for the loveliest cocktails.”

You swallowed at the look in her eye, how she peered right through your skin and all the barriers you managed to keep solid for so long. Your heart rushed so quickly that you swore you heard it in your ears.

“It is ugly,” you insisted in a quiet breath, grasping her upper arm for balance as she wrapped her other around your lower back. “I am ugly under everything, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for how I feel when I’m happier with you than I ever was married to that husband I had. I hate myself for needing to seek out the acceptance of our neighbors when you don’t seem to give a penny how they feel. Mostly, I hate that there is so much about you that seems hidden and I haven’t been damned to uncover it.”

Rio kisses you them, a rough one compared to your first and the ones that had followed many times since. She pushes you against the window, her arm cushioning your bounce against the surface.

She pulls back for air briefly and pries your hand off her arm so she can run her fingers up the crevice of your neck.

“Nothing I have seen is ugly, and for that reason I dig for more until there is nothing left of you that I cannot know,” she whispered as her lips began making ghost brushes under your ear.

“I know you’re lying to be about so many things,” you stutter out between her kisses and feather-light touches to your burning skin, “and maybe I should have listened to my mother when she told me to run.”

“But you didn’t,” Rio purred, sending vibrations through your jaw and neck. You shivered from the ministrations as her fingers started to go lower, lower, “You’re ignoring every part of your primal instinct that orders you to run, to get away from me.”

“I feel safe with you. I want you. I need you. And I don’t know why,” you got out, blinking tears away until they left tracks on your flushed cheeks. “You saved me and doomed me the second you appeared at my door and I love you for it.”

“My Angel,” Rio murmured as she found your heat, tracing just outside and finding you disgustingly wet there. You turned your head away in shame and she nipped your skin. “Don’t you dare look away from me. Your pleasure is mine and it means you adore me so.”

“It is wrong.”

“You can say it as many times as you need to make you feel better,” the woman promised as she sank her index finger into you and brushed her thumb so gently over the bundle of nerves above your pussy.

You knew how to find pleasure and the way it made you feel -- but it had been so long since you had experienced it. Your marriage failing first, the death of your husband second . . . and what was self-pleasure good for? It was unbecoming.

Your husband -- before he was ever that, when he was good and charming and who you thought you could live that happy existence with -- had been somewhat of a clumsy boy during your youths. You fooled around and looked for places on one another that were just simply taboo but it wouldn't matter later, you had planned to spend your lives intertwined and so what harm would getting to know the body of each other do?

Two years into the marriage fresh out of school, him working long hours and you figuring out how to care for a home . . . it broke you both and turned him into something inhuman.

“It won’t make your feelings any less powerful, nor will it turn me away," your lover continued, breath hot against you.

You felt as though cotton was being stuffed violently into your ears until your brain was no longer functional the more she spoke and touched, and aggravated your lust.

"Who was your husband, Rio?" you whispered out so quietly that for a second, you did not think she would hear it. Your throat was dry from the heavy gasps and moans she'd drawn from you, adding to the difficulty in speaking.

She pressed her front against you, getting better leverage as she started to move inside of you in the same sweet way in which she held you and kissed you. Your head leaned back when her thumb started making circles in a way that you’ve never managed to do properly to yourself. Is this what feeling good was?

It felt . . . this was better than everything you've ever had done before. One man you'd known since teenagers and things had gone to shit, but Rio wasn't inside of you to seek out her own release. She had no cock and only used her fingers expertly as though she did this perhaps to herself often.

"Rio," you whined as your forehead fell forward onto her shoulder, unable to keep your eyes open and on her as she'd requested. Touching yourself was never this fast and never yielded such quick results, but Rio was --

"You're so pretty like this," she told you in a cracked tone as the thumb on your clit started to speed up in movement as your demeanor started to become weaker. "Unable to hold yourself in that strong, perfect way you do to protect yourself."

There was a nagging prod in the back of your lower head and it was an instinctual knowing of importance. But your senses were overwhelmed and you felt so good right now -- how could anything else matter until you let such things pass?

“Rio Vidal has a completely blank canvas, sweetheart, and I’m afraid that means that no records indicate she was ever married, much less to a man in the service.”

Your eyes flew open suddenly just as the rush of your orgasm crashed against you. Your mouth had dropped open to question Rio again but only broken mewls and moans came out as she eased you through the devastating pleasure. You heard how her finger mixed with your fluids as she cooed in your ears and kissed down your neck.

She pulled out of you gently and held her finger up her mouth. You watched as she licked her finger clean of your shame and closed your eyes again, unable to watch your failure to once again confront her about these uneasy doubts that she was narrowly avoiding.

She presses a kiss to your forehead and sealed your fate into your skin.

2024

Rio settles you downstairs in the living room and patters around like a fussy nursemaid. She dims the lights and draws the blinds shut, followed by the airy curtains [ "Rio, the curtains are fine and won't make a difference if the blinds are closed," you told her from your spot. She ignored you, of course ].

She brought you some hot chocolate foamed with strawberry soft top, remembering one of your favorite ways to have the drink. One by one, little by little, she was tearing apart your defenses and you had no resources to rebuild them and fight her off.

Not in your state.

Tommy lay next to you in the crook of your curled legs, head resting on your thigh and intelligent eyes following every move Rio made with unnerving focus.

"I don't want him on the furniture," the witch told you as she sat down a plate of assorted snacks -- meats, cheeses, sweets, and crackers. Only a few nights ago you were both violently fighting one another and now she was doting on you.

You lifted a hand and stroked the dogs' ears. They were warm and velvety under your hand and provided an anchor when you were at risk to float away from reality again. "He stays," you replied without adding a bite. You didn't want an argument with her and in the past you would have even agreed with her if you'd have pets together.

Circumstances had changed and thus your views on even this. Tommy gave you back some of your lost defenses and you think Rio knew that -- because she decided dropping the topic was better than fighting you as she shook her head and took the spot on the other side of the couch with you.

"You're cleaning up his shed," Rio murmured as she wrapped an arm around you and picked up the remote to the television on the armrest.

Your only response was running your fingers through Tommy's sleek coat, dragging up loose fur onto the cushions as you did. Billy was laying under the coffee table batting at Rio's socked feet while she entertained his little game.

It was so fucking domestic.

You hated it.

You loved it.

"What do you feel like watching?" she asked, as she tugged her socked foot back to no avail. Billy had one of his claws hooked into the fabric and he seemed to be ready to tackle her ankle if she wasn't quick enough.

You took the remote from her and browsed her list of streaming services. "I have pretty much any streaming app, available at your leisure," she said as Billy tugged her sock off and kicked it with his hind leg. "You little shit."

Billy went after her other sock next as you flicked through until you found the service that had the reality TV show you'd been watching before you were taken.

She drew her foot up to rest against the edge of the couch as Billy pounced to capture it, his fluffy tail flicking back and forth and pupils thinned to slits. Rio looked mildly irritated.

Your lips quirked upward in a smile and you rest your head on her shoulder as you find the season and episode you had last left off on. "I don't remember you being into reality TV," she commented, palming Billy's face until his paws wrapped around her hand and he dug his teeth in.

"You get bored and branch out after centuries of having the same taste," you merely said as the intro to the show started playing. You brought the mug of hot chocolate to your lips and made to focus on the TV, trying to keep yourself settled for as long as you can until the panic returned.

"I will turn you into a fucking duster," Rio hissed at your cat as she shook him off. The cuts and marks from his rough play had healed instantly, not even drawing blood.

"Leave him alone, Rio."

"Are you kidding--" she started, but glanced over and stopped. You were content -- more than she'd ever seen you in a long time. Considering she had not seen you in a long time . . .

She pulled off her other sock and threw it for the tabby feline. He left Rio to chase it and the witch returned her attention to you, pressing a soft kiss on your head and listening to the murmur of the show you were watching.

Two episodes and some snacking later, it was disrupted. A ring at the door was startling and had Tommy's head shooting up, gaze staring hard at the archway that led to the entry room.

He was stiff even when you ran a hand across his back to soothe him as Rio got to her feet and spread the blanket she had magicked in across you. "I'll get it," she told you. "It's probably just a girl scout."

"Thin mints," you said easily, still stroking Tommy even if he was not responsive to your attempt at comfort.

Rio made her way to the door cautiously and prepared herself. She believed you were almost ready to entertain your high-end neighbors but she had not completely let up on the magic that had them forgetting to come greet the new neighbors yet.

She opened the door and plastered a confused but friendly expression on her face and stopped in her tracks at who she saw.

"Hi," the woman greeted politely, her own smile rising a little sheepishly on her face, though her eyes had a darker sparkle in them. "I'm your new neighbor, a few doors down, and heard you recently moved in too. I thought I'd say hello. My name is Wanda."

rio and reader will return in part five

PART FIVE

my often forgetful taglist: @dandelions4us , @flow33didontsmoke , @girlsgotissues

[circlebuttons]

Rafe on Love Island US

-super duper short blurb

The social media challenges will definitely target Rafe.

It only makes sense that the producers would pick a tweet that is a personal testimony to his behavior on the outer banks. Rafe has already explained to you that his past isn’t anything to be proud of, making promises to show you his real record when you get outside, and openly answering any questions you have. You’re confident that you know the real Rafe and you accept every version of him. Therefore you’re not phased when another islander reads from a card how ““blank” is a conman that “blank” has fallen victim to since his rich family paid to have majority of his record cleaned. Can’t wait for her to find out the truth about the man she’s fallen for”. Since Rafe is the only guy who comes from a notably rich family the two of you are the only people it could be about. You watch as Rafe hardens up a bit at the comment and when the host asks for a response you throw your arms around him and say, “I’m already aware of everything. I think he’s done a lot of growing and if anyone else here had the ability to remove every bad thing about the themselves from the public they probably would too.”

The game moves on, but you hate how Rafe seems bummed out for the rest of it. You wait until everyone arrives back to the villa before you bring it up. “You know I don’t think you’re evil right?” You ask him quietly, while the two of you lay on your backs up in soul ties.

“I know, it’s just- like what are your people gonna think about me?” Rafe has opened up to you before about a lack in self worth. He’s open about how having such a dark past compared to you makes him feel undeserving of you and going back to the outside to meet a family who thinks the same is his biggest fear.

You role over to your stomach so that you can look at him, “My family is fucked up in their own ways, trust they have no room to judge”

“I should grow my hair out and make sure to meet them wearing my best polo, maybe bring them a pony” he comments with a dramatic sigh.

You swat at his shoulder, “Stop, they’re gonna see that I like you a lot and nothing else will matter”

“A lot?” he questions looking down at you with an exaggerated eyebrow.

“A lot” you admit, shying away from him until he reaches over to pull you on top of him. He has smile on his face for what seems like the first time all day. The two of you lay together for a while talking about everything there is to do on the outside like different dates and trips. You love listening to the way Rafe plans for you to come see the outer banks, he only mentions a few people he really wants you to meet, but wants to show you a thousand different places and you just sit pretty on his chest agreeing to any and everything.

[nxuvillette]

thoughts on best friends brother!hanma? how he’d act with the sneaking around to avoid your best friend? 🥺

❥- note : hi nonnie <3 this made me go kinda crazy because i love something secretive with shuji :> !! i hope you enjoyed this tehe.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, reader is best friends with hanma’s sister, mentions of hookups, brief car sex mention, teasing, secret relationship, use of pet names (babydoll , doll), praising, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, multiple orgasms.

hanma never imagined that he’d end up messing around with his little sister’s best friend.

you and hanma had met after your best friend took you over to her house. she mentioned him many times before, but you weren’t expecting him to be so fucking hot. hanma was six foot four with these delicious tattoos on his hands that made him seem intimidating from the naked eye. he was charming, too. he had this sultry tone in his voice that would make it difficult for you to even look at him and his honey eyes.

there would be lingering glances between you two, and there were even a few instances where you would both end up alone with each other. there was always something in the air whenever you two were in the same room. thankfully, your best friend never noticed. you would hate for her to get the wrong idea about your friendship. 

hanma eventually caved into his desires for you and messaged you one night. despite it being almost two in the morning, you decided to go and see him. you both ended up hooking up in the backseat of his car. it was some of the best sex you had ever had. it was like hanma knew your body already. he touched, fucked, licked, all of the right places that made you melt in his fingers. it was clear that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, judging by hanma’s behavior towards you after your first initial hookup.

it was difficult to hide your secret from your best friend. that was her older brother. it would mean lots of betrayal if she were to discover what was going on. 

but, you just couldn’t stop.

whenever she was working, hanma would have you come over and you would both fuck for hours. he would put you in all kinds of positions and leave your cunt stuffed with his cum. it was just the way he liked it. 

sometimes, he’d play a dangerous game and touch you whenever she was in the room. he’d brush his fingertips along your waist or get a little too close to your ass whenever he was walking by. he’d just smirk and give you that look that said it all. he loved to see how much he could work you up until you were a needy slut for him in bed the next time you met up.

it was risky, but that’s why he loved it so damn much. 

it was later in the night. your best friend had gone to some frat party that was about an hour away, and you were lying in hanma’s sheets with your legs on his shoulders. his cock was drilling into your pussy, creating sloppy noises with every rut of his hips. your cunt was always crying for him. he loved to see how wet it could get. 

“like that, babydoll? fuck.. look at you.. taking me so fucking well..” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, revealing some of your teeth. 

you whined when hanma’s cock reached your g-spot. the tip was relentlessly pressing against that button, making your vision become hazy. you were so lost in bliss. any stress you had could be taken away by him. “yes, h-hanma! i love it so much!” you cried, your eyes becoming glassy from the tears that formed at your lash line.

he changed his angle so he was now reaching further into your hole. hanma caught your lips and began to kiss you slowly. god, his kisses were just too fucking good. your fingernails then threaded through the strands of his dual colored hair, bringing him closer to you. you were already on your third orgasm, and your body was reaching its limit. hanma didn’t show any signs of halting, though. he needed you so badly. he hated that he couldn’t see you as often as he wanted.

the kiss was broken between you as hanma pressed his forehead against yours. his golden eyes that were like the sun stared into your own. “can’t get enough of you, doll.” he mumbled against your puffy lips. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re pregnant.. with my baby..” 

the thought alone made your pussy squeeze his cock, which hanma gladly took note of. you were a bit surprised to hear such a proposal, but nonetheless did it turn you on. “yes.. please!” you put your arms around his neck, leaving sloppy kisses on his lips.

he smirked, then began fucking you at a brutal pace. his balls smacked against your clit from how quick his thrusts were. hanma could only think about fucking his cum into you. he wouldn’t care if his sister was pissed. he wanted you.

sin wrapped around your throat. hanma clenched his teeth as he finally released into you. thick ropes of cum filled your womb. he practically emptied his balls inside of you, and he fucking loved it. he loved how great it felt. no other guy would ever dare to do such a thing to you, so he felt proud of himself for doing so. you deserved it all from him. 

he leaned forward to kiss you passionately. you felt so full. there was a mess, but neither of you cared at all. “what do you say.. round four?” he chuckled.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[nocturnalrat]

Hear me out…

1610! Miles comforting reader after she get jealous because of how much he’s been around Gwen and he’s just touching and kissing her in all the right places and makes sure that reader knows that he loves her and only her 🙈💕

Thank you for the great prompt! I had lots of fun writing this. :p <3

---

It was truly infuriating.

You hadn’t seen each other in a week due to school work keeping you busy, and there had been a surge of criminal activities in New York, which is why Miles had been occupied most of the time as well.

And now, when the two of you were finally able to hang out again, he kept talking about someone else entirely.

You were lying on the bunk bed in his dorm room, listening to him ramble on about the adventures he had lived through last week.  

“You should have been there, the way Gwen incapacitated the guy was like something out of a movie.” He gesticulated frantically with his hands as he vividly described last night’s care chase.

"That sounds really fascinating," you grumbled.

After hearing your unfazed (and slightly sarcastic) tone, he looked up from his chair. "You don't sound very impressed, though."

How could you have told him that his constant stories and songs of praise about Gwen were starting to annoy the heck out of you?

Jealousy was an ugly emotion. To confess to it was shameful, exposing; you wanted to be the easy-going, cool and confident kind of girlfriend, but Miles was making it really hard for you to not seethe with anger and discontent.

"Everything okay?" he asked, and you avoided his gaze. Lying was easier when you didn’t look him into his eyes. They always were too honest and seemed to notice too much.

"Sure," you said.

He saw through your charade immediately, and climbed onto the bunk bed to be closer to you.  "There's something bothering you. I can tell."

"You can't tell shit," you said before you could stop yourself. There was anger in the pits of your stomach threatening to take over.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Yes.

"No."

"Then why are you frowning like that? It looks like you’re ready to kill someone. It better not be me."

Fuck. Were you really scowling that obviously?

"You and Gwen get along great, huh?”

"We certainly do." He tilted his head. You recognized that look on his face – it was the same one he had when struggling to solve complicated math problems. "Why’d you bring her up?"

"Why do you keep bringing her up?" you snarled. "We weren’t able to have a single conversation in the last few weeks without you mentioning her a dozen times. Not to mention the fact that you spend way more time with her than you do with your actual girlfriend.”

Shoot. Now you had done it; you had shown weakness.

Miles stared at you incredulously. "Wait a minute - are you jealous?"

You crossed your arms and looked pointedly at the ceiling.

"Absolutely not."

"Nuh-huh. That's why you're pouting." He grinned, and his lighthearted reaction only intensified the nauseating feeling of jealousy. "You know, part of me wishes you could come with us when we're patrolling, just so you could witness how much I talk about you when I'm with Gwen. But the other part of me is terrified of you being with us, as it would be incredibly dangerous for a civilian.”

"Yeah." Biting sarcasm. "I'm sure that's what you talk to her about."

"It is!" He scrambled over to you and leaned in close. "You don't have the faintest idea how important you are to me, do you?

"Can’t be that important, judging by your behavior.”

"Not that important!" he repeated indignantly. "I think about you all the time. How you're doing, what you're doing, if you need anything - always. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep!"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it,” you mumbled.

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?” He brushed an unruly strand of hair from your forehead, and the gentleness of his touch loosened the knot in your stomach the jealousy had caused. You had only recently started dating, so every little touch of his felt all the more exciting.  

You looked at him, and his wide eyes were filled with worry.

“Do you guys have to hang out so much?” you asked reluctantly. “How would you feel if I suddenly spent all of my time with an attractive guy who was single?”

He furrowed his brows. “Well, I wouldn’t be thrilled,” he began slowly. Then he shook his head. “Okay, scratch that, I’d be really pissed.”

You almost laughed. He was just like you.

“Then you know exactly how I feel.”

He kissed the corner of your mouth. "You really have no idea, do you?"

The almost-kiss had distracted you, and it took a moment for you to reply. “No idea about what?” you asked, a little breathless.

"About the things I'd do to make you happy." With a tender gesture, he took your face in his hand and caressed your cheek. "I love you more than anything in this world." The kiss that followed made any doubt you had disappear in an instant. He was telling the truth, that much was evident. “Next time, you can just straight up tell me what’s bothering you. Although I have to say, I kind of like it when you’re acting all jealous and cute.”

“Fuck off,” you said, but it was with a smile. You playfully tried to push him off of you, but he buried his face in your neck.

He was stronger than you, and his weight was pressing against you in a way that made it impossible for you to escape. Not that you wanted to - not when his lips had found your neck and left a sensation so new and good that you couldn't help but let out a sigh of contentment.

“I love you,” he said, His voice was so full of affection that it warmed your heart. “Only you. Always you. I won’t be patrolling with her as much in the future, I promise.”

At times, you wondered how someone as great as him had ended up with someone like you. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmered with an amber-like hue; the smile that graced his face was a breathtaking image.

He appeared radiant in the sunlight, and in his presence, you felt a profound sense of peace and trust overcome you.