#that would literally be the ‘god i wish that were me’ ON ME

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.

Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.

A/N: Chapters one, two and three.

“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”

“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”

“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”

Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.

She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.

She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.

Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.

So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.

She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.

Her heart raced as another message came in from you.

“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”

She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.

The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.

Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?

She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”

“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”

She sighed in frustration.

“No.”

She shouldn’t be so curt.

“I wish I did.”

“Well. That’s very helpful.”

“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I want to know.”

“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.”

Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”

Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.

She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.

And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.

“Okay. Where and when?”

—————

Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.

When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.

Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.

“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.

“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”

You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.

When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.

“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”

Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.

“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”

You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.

“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.

Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.

"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.

"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”

You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."

Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.

“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”

Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.

“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”

“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”

You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.

"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.

"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."

She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.

"What do you mean? How so?"

Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.

"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.

Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.

"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.

Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.

"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"

Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.

"Yes."

She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.

"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.

"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."

Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."

Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."

"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."

Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.

She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.

"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."

"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.

"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.

"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"

Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."

"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."

Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."

"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"

Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."

You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.

"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"

Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.

"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."

"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"

"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."

"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"

Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."

Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.

"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."

She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.

She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.

By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.

"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.

She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.

"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.

Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."

You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."

Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."

"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."

Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."

You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.

"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."

Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.

"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."

You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.

"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."

Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.

"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."

Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.

"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"

Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.

"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."

"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."

That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."

"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.

Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.

"And it's one I intend to keep."

A/N: Next up…smut.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[amirasainz]

OH MY GOD! You literally gave us so much today. Actually, I'm in love with you and your page. I had an idea and I was hoping you could write it. Would you be a to write one continuing with dark Alex and Charles were it's been a year and reader it slowly feeling back in love and has a little but of Stockholm syndrome after being trapped with them, they feel as if you can doing anything without them. ❤️❤️❤️💗💗💗

Hii!! So I really tried to do my best here. I'm still pretty new with all of this dark scenario writing. I hope that this is alright

I also want to inform you guys that I am taking a break from all of the Leclerc!Reader stories. So if you have any wishes for the drivers, please send me them.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Part 2 from this

Bound by obsession

The air was thick with the familiar scent of lavender, a fragrance Y/N had grown to associate with the luxury and confinement of her life over the past year. The grand mansion was breathtaking—ornate and lavish, a place anyone would have dreamt of living in. But to Y/N, it was a gilded cage.

It had been a year since the day Alexandra and Charles, her ex- boyfriedn and girlfriend, had stolen her away from her ordinary life. They’d claimed they loved her, needed her, that she was the missing piece of their twisted puzzle. But what they called love felt more like possession, a consuming desire to keep her all to themselves.

At first, Y/N had fought. She’d screamed, begged, tried to run countless times, but their hold on her was ironclad. Slowly, the fight left her. She had no friends, no family—only Alexandra and Charles, who filled her days with constant attention, whispered promises, and suffocating affection. Over time, Y/N’s heart began to betray her, her mind slowly twisting into a version of love that felt like surrender.

---

“Darling, you look so beautiful today,” Charles murmured, his voice smooth like honey as he traced his fingers down Y/N’s arm. They were sitting in the sunlit garden, Charles holding Y/N’s hand possessively while Alexandra lounged beside them, watching with a predatory glint in her eyes.

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes meeting Charles’s warm gaze. “Thank you, Charles…” she replied, her voice quiet. It was hard to keep her emotions straight anymore; their constant attention had worn her down, their sweet words filling the void they had created.

Charles’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand, drawing small circles. “You’re perfect. Our perfect little doll,” he whispered, leaning closer to kiss her cheek. The soft touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she leaned into him unconsciously, finding comfort in the familiar warmth.

Alexandra watched them with a pleased smile, her fingers twirling a lock of Y/N’s hair. “You’re so good for us now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Alexandra cooed, her tone both mocking and affectionate. She tugged gently, guiding Y/N’s head to rest against her shoulder.

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling Alexandra’s fingers start to braid her hair. She’d grown used to Alexandra’s little rituals—the way she’d sit Y/N down and play with her hair, selecting clothes for her as if she were dressing up a beloved doll. It was infantilizing and degrading, but in a twisted way, it made Y/N feel cared for.

“You like it when I braid your hair, don’t you?” Alexandra asked, her voice almost teasing. Y/N didn’t know if Alexandra wanted an answer, but she nodded anyway.

“Yes… it feels… nice,” Y/N admitted quietly, her eyes fluttering shut as Alexandra’s skilled fingers continued to work. It was a simple pleasure, one she had learned to cherish in her captivity.

Alexandra smiled wider, pleased with the response. “Good girl,” she praised, securing the braid with a ribbon. “You’re such a pretty little thing when you listen.” Alexandra’s hand moved to Y/N’s chin, tilting her head up so their eyes met. “You’d never want to leave us, would you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N’s mind flashed with memories of her old life—freedom, friends, the sun on her face without fear. But those memories were distant, overshadowed by the warmth and security Alexandra and Charles provided, however twisted it might be.

“I… I don’t want to leave,” Y/N whispered, the words tasting both bitter and sweet on her tongue. She had told herself it was easier this way, that this was her reality now.

Charles’s grip tightened on her hand, pulling her back into his embrace. “That’s right, mon ange. You belong here, with us,” he said, his voice tinged with possessiveness. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering. “You’re ours.”

The way he said it made Y/N’s heart flutter. She hated that feeling, hated the way she couldn’t help but lean into him, savoring the closeness. It was wrong—everything about this was wrong. But the lines had blurred so much that she couldn’t tell where her true feelings ended and their manipulation began.

---

Later that evening, Alexandra had chosen an elegant dress for Y/N—soft blue fabric that clung to her body in all the right places. Y/N sat in front of the vanity as Alexandra fussed over her hair, her touch gentle yet controlling.

“You’ll look perfect tonight, just like you always do,” Alexandra said, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “We don’t want you hiding away, do we?”

Y/N shook her head. “No… I’ll look nice for you,” she mumbled, staring at her own reflection. She barely recognized the girl staring back—she looked polished, cared for, but there was a dullness in her eyes that told the true story.

Charles entered the room, his expression lighting up at the sight of Y/N. “Oh, you look stunning, chérie,” he praised, moving to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. His touch was firm, grounding. “We should never let you out of our sight.”

Y/N felt Charles’s fingers kneading her shoulders, his touch sending sparks through her skin. She wanted to pull away, to remind herself that this was all wrong—but instead, she found herself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth and reassurance it provided.

“You’re always so sweet to me,” Y/N murmured, feeling a mix of gratitude and resignation. She had stopped questioning the strange bond they shared. It was easier to play along, to let them coddle her and make her feel special, even if it was all a lie.

Charles chuckled softly, his breath warm against her ear. “That’s because we love you, mon amour. You’re everything to us. We just want you to be happy.”

Alexandra finished braiding Y/N’s hair and stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Happy and beautiful,” Alexandra corrected, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. “And you are, aren’t you?”

Y/N nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yes… I am,” she said, and for a fleeting moment, she almost believed it.

---

That night, they lay in bed together, Y/N nestled between them, surrounded by their warmth. Alexandra’s arm was draped possessively over her waist, while Charles’s fingers intertwined with hers. It was suffocating, yet oddly comforting.

“You’re safe here with us,” Alexandra whispered, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear. “We’ll never let anyone hurt you. Never.”

Charles squeezed her hand, pulling it to his chest. “You’re ours forever, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And we’ll take care of you, always.”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the weight of their words settle over her. She was theirs—she knew that now. As twisted as it was, they had become her whole world. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

[waterfae]

Kill My Lord Husband [Part 3]

Summary: Your father has decided to marry you off – and to a Blackwood no less! But you want nothing to do with the famously known Bloody Ben, not when your heart already belongs to another. Your solution? Kill your lord husband.

Pairings: Benjicot “Davos” Blackwood x Reader, Aeron Bracken x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, adult language, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, house-neutral fem!reader, no use of Y/N, absolute nonsense, no beta

this chapter contains a fight scene and mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.8+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

Aeron’s words kept you up all night. You stared blankly up at the canopy of your four-poster bed as they circulated about your head like a fly that refused to leave no matter how many times you tried to swat it away.

Meet me by the Whispering Woods. Just outside of Mudgrave Market and pass the Widow’s Wash.

That’s all the message said. There was no flowery prose filled with apologies, grandiose love declarations, or a promise to take you away from all of this. Instructions. That’s all it was. He hadn’t even signed it. Yet, you were still overcome by the mere sight of his handwriting, satisfied to have received something – anything – from your beloved. Some semblance that you were still in his thoughts. Were you truly so desperate? You asked yourself as you gripped onto your sheets.

Yes, you decided, you were. Despite the fury that followed your tears once they were all shed – fury at his delayed response and fury at his audacity to dare request your audience after what that delay had put you through – the desire to see him was still there and it held steadfast. You wanted so badly to hold him, kiss him, and knock sense into that blonde little head of his – figuratively and literally. So, you chose to oblige.

You requested the wheelhouse from your father early the following morning after breaking your fast.

“Whatever for, sweet girl?” He asked as the pair of you walked through the halls.

“I wish to visit the nearby market.” You answered, trying your best to contain your nerves, “This will be my new home after all. A bit of exploration isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

“Hm…” He nodded contemplatively.

“Who knows,” You decided to add, hoping your next words would push him into agreement, “I might find something I could use for the wedding.”

Your father immediately perked up at the mention of your wedding. Oblivious to your hesitancy towards it and happy that you appeared to be taking your betrothal so well, he decided to grant your request, but not before adding, “You should have Benjicot accompany you.”

Your face fell and eyes bulged at his suggestion. Benjicot was the last person you needed to accompany you on this particular errand, so you quickly countered, “Is he not training this morning?” You paused, feet coming to a halt, “I would hate to interrupt.” You turned to face your father, a teasing – and fraudulent – smile on your features, “Besides, my future lord husband is a fighter. I doubt he would be of any help. Unless, of course, I were trying to procure weaponry.” You eyed his amused look before continuing, “No. What I need is the keen eye of a woman for something much more elegant. Atlanna will join me.”

It was all your father needed to hear. For when it came to you, Atlanna was one of the few people in all of Westeros that he could trust. With a kiss upon your cheek, he bid you safe travels and enjoyment during your trip to Mudgrave. You and Atlanna took off for the market town not long after, keen to get to the designated meeting place as quickly as possible. You couldn’t bare to waste even a second; you planned to squeeze as much time as you could from Aeron. As much as the gods would allow. You figured they at least owed you this.

Once you arrived, the two of you parted ways; Atlanna to the market to pass time and wait for your return and you to the Whispering Woods to meet with your Bracken knight. It remained overcast during your little excursion and you wondered – while you traipsed through mud as you made it across the Widow’s Wash – if rain would ever fall. Atlanna had mentioned a storm brewing during your journey to Raventree Hall. You remembered her words, yet here you were still waiting for one to arrive.

Pass the bank and through a short field, you finally found yourself standing before the chosen site and cautiously entered through the trees. You needn’t venture too far when the sound of rustling came from behind you, which caused you to spin in your boots. Emerging from behind several low-hanging branches was Aeron, clad in his house color of gold with the red stallion imprinted upon his tabard. The moment you recovered from your daze at the sight of him, you immediately ran towards your knight and leaped into his arms, wrapping your own around him and burying your face into his tresses. He tightened his hold on you.

“Reckless fool.” You said through tears and nuzzling your face into his neck, “You’re usually more prudent than this. Crossing onto Blackwood land. And not even disguised!”

“Desperate times, my lady.” He whispered while caressing your hair.

“And yet you waited over a sennight.” You snapped back, untangling yourself from him and lightly striking him in the chest with a loose fist.

“It was not my wish, I assure you.” He said, desperately reaching for you again, “Once news broke of your engagement, my Uncle Amos had me closely watched.” You evaded his grasp as he attempted to explain further, “He knew of my wish to marry you!” That made you pause and you looked at him, heart pounding at his words. His uncle knew? That would mean he had actually spoken to Lord Bracken of his intentions towards you. It just further complicated your feelings, this newfound knowledge, and you weren’t certain if it was happiness or dread that made your heart race; happiness in knowing that his intentions had been true, dread in knowing that in spite of it all, you were betrothed to someone else.

Aeron’s voice cut through your thoughts, “I was only recently able to get away…for a moment.” He reached out to cup your face when you stopped evading him and brought you closer to press his forehead against yours.

“Only a moment?” You questioned, leaning into him, “Are you not here to claim me? To take me away from this place and make me your wife instead?”

He pulled away and looked into your eyes, worry etched on his features, “Do you wish to start a war?”

You shook your head in reply. Of course you didn’t want to start a war, but you also didn’t want this deplorable reality you were currently facing. You clung onto him then, his tabard scrunched up in the tightness of your grip, as you pathetically begged, “Fix this, Aeron.”

“How?”

Defeated, you gave no answer because you didn’t know either. Instead, you voiced what you had been wanting to say to him ever since your father announced your betrothal to the Blackwood heir.

“You should have asked for my hand.”

He did not even attempt to deny his failings, “I should have.”

“I should be marrying you.”

“You should.”

“If you weren’t going to do anything, why even come? Why are you here?”

Your ire had grown. It grew still when your question was met with silence. You stared up at him, searching his face for anything that might give away his thoughts on the matter. He appeared to be searching for an answer himself, so you gave him a few more moments in hope that he would find it. He looked increasingly lost as time passed and when the silence persisted, you felt your resolve wane and loosened your grip. Disappointment settled and took root in your heart. With nothing more to lose, you decided to say one more thing you had long kept within your heart.

“I know your uncle does not approve of me...because of my father’s friendship with the Blackwoods, but you could’ve at least tried to fight for this. For us.”

“It’s not that simple –” He began, but you interrupted him.

“Aeron Bracken, you are a coward.” Your arms dropped to your sides and allowed your eyes to fall away from him. Dejected, you repeated the words, “You’re a coward.” The tears didn’t fall, but they could be heard in your voice.

He called your name then. Once. Then twice. You could hear the pleading in them, but you refused to respond. He still held your face in his hands and that hold became more firm, urging you to face him. Aeron slightly bent at his knees to better level himself to your eyes and get you to look at him. He called your name once more, leaning in closer. You did not look up but instead let your eyelids fall shut. He leaned in further, nearly closing the gap between you two. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You could almost feel his lips on yours...

And then came the snap of a twig.

The two of you jumped, startled by the intrusion and quickly moved away from each other, but it was too late. You were already seen. Benjicot stood before the two of you with three other Blackwood men behind him, their eyes all on Aeron. You locked eyes with Benjicot when he turned his gaze towards you and were surprised to find that they were not he same stormy ones you were drowning in the day you had arrived. There was something else swirling behind them. It was not just a simple anger, it seemed...unhinged. Your breath caught in your throat once the thought occurred: this was not Benjicot who stood before you. This was Bloody Ben.

“You’re on the wrong side of the boundary stones, Bracken.”

You noticed Aeron’s hand go to the hilt of his sword. Ben must have noticed it as well because he immediately unsheathed his. Without much thought, you moved to stand between him and Aeron, shielding Aeron from his sword. Aeron grabbed onto your arm in protest, trying to pull you behind him, but you refused to budge.

Ben let out a laugh and gestured towards Aeron while addressing his comrades, “Fucking craven needs a woman to interfere with his battles.” They laughed along with him as he turned his attention back to Aeron, “Are you even truly a knight?” He did not give time for him to respond and then he acknowledged you, features turning dark with a frown, “You’re suppose to be at the market with Atlanna, according to your father.” He stepped towards you, arm outstretched with sword still in hand, “Is he the reason for your hesitation?” He used the tip of it to tilt up your chin, “Is he the reason why you’re so angry with the gods?”

You gulped, anxious of what his next actions might be, but you stood your ground, fiercely returning his gaze. You did not satisfy him with an answer. This displeased him even further, his knuckles turning white from gripping onto his weapon so tightly. His eyes darted from you to Aeron for several more moments, then scoffed, “I do not wish for a wife so sullied.” He paused to catch your gaze in scrutiny. You’d expected to see more anger in them, but were stunned to see nothing of the sort. What you saw instead was hurt. “Poisoned by House Bracken.” He added.

Your jaw dropped and let out a gasp. Firstly, at the accusation of somehow being damaged, despite your virtue being completely intact. Such allusions were a disrespect to you and a disrespect to Aeron and you were shocked Ben would say such a thing. And secondly, for the sting you had not expected to feel in your heart upon hearing him echo the words he spoke just last night of the great weirwood tree.

It was Aeron’s turn to unsheathe his sword, offended for you as soon as the words left Ben’s mouth. “How dare you?” He growled, pointing his sword at Ben, “I will not allow you to sully her name with such lies.” Ben’s men soon followed suit, unsheathing and pointing their own swords at Aeron as he continued to defend your honor, regardless of his disadvantage, “You’re betrothed is a proper lady. You will respect her.”

Ben smirked, more amused than threatened, “You dare point your sword at me?” He relaxed and brought his sword down to his side as he snickered, then motioned to his men. They lowered their swords and slowly stalked towards you and Aeron. Panic filled you as one of them grabbed onto your arm and began to pull you away. The others disarmed Aeron and with a few blows, brought him to his knees.

“Wait...NO!” You exclaimed, realizing what was happening. You struggled against your captor’s hold, who quickly wrapped his arms around your arms and torso, lifting you slightly to drag you a distance. “Stop it!” You screamed, upon hearing the sound of Aeron’s groans as they began to beat him. “Leave him alone!”

“Don’t worry. We won’t kill him.” Ben assured you in an upbeat manner, as if what was unfolding was a normal, everyday occurrence, “But he does have to be punished for trespassing.” He gave Aeron a swift kick to the stomach.

You continued to cry out, pleading for them to stop their assaults as they took turns punching and kicking at him. The sight of Aeron defenseless and bleeding sent you into a feral frenzy. With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you began to kick and thrash around hoping somehow your actions would lead to your escape.

“Mad bitch.” Ben’s gaurd said through gritted teeth, using every bit of strength to keep you in his clutches.

“LET! ME! GO!” You shouted in between snarls. You kicked your feet up into the air and brought as much force your body could muster, using your weight to swing back down to hopefully flip him over you. It didn’t quite work, but it did manage to force him to readjust his hold, which brought his upper extremities that much closer to your mouth and when the opportunity came, you were able to capture one of his hands between your teeth. You chomped down with all your might causing him to yelp out in pain; it only encouraged you to bite down even harder. He finally let go once you had drawn blood.

Free and with blood smeared across your lips, you let out a battle cry and charged towards Ben. He turned at the sound of your yells, but not fast enough. He caught a quick glance of your bloodied visage before your body collided with his, knocking the wind out of him and sending you both to the muddy floor. There would be no saving you from the mess this time and you honestly didn’t care as the two of you landed with a SPLAT, him on his back and you on top of him. You quickly scrambled to your knees, straddling him and grunting as you tried to pin down his arms.

He laughed.

“This fucking cunt.” You thought as the two of you grappled with each others arms. He was laughing. He found this amusing. It was maddening and angered you further to see his stupid grin on his stupid face. You wanted to be the one to smack it clean off. You continued to wrestle with him, your hair fallen out of its ribbons and your face covered in both blood and mud. He wasn’t even using his full strength and you knew it. He was mocking you.

Eventually, he managed to catch your wrists. With a firm grasp, he was able to pull you towards him, your faces mere inches from each other. He leered up at you, his smile leaving you perturbed. “There you are.” He whispered, licking his lips, “I knew you were still in there somewhere.” The comment caught you off guard, even more so when he repeated your own words from last night, “You and your uncouth behavior.”

You sputtered unintelligible sounds in response and it was enough for him to get the upper hand. He thrust his hips up, causing you to fall forward, and used the momentum to flip your positions. The mud squelched beneath you as he pinned you down. “You are already promised to me.” He said lowly, “Nothing is going to change that, so it’s best you stop fighting it.” He then released you and heaved himself up. He offered assistance with an extended arm, which you swatted away opting to help yourself up, despite being weighed down by your now wet and muddy dress.

Ben turned his attention back to Aeron, picking up his fallen weapon as he strode in his direction. He looked down at the Bracken – who was strewn across the woodsy floor, weak, bloodied, and aching from his beating – with the sword pointed his chest. He spat out a warning, “Do not dare cross the boundary stones again.” He said nothing more and spun on his heel, ready to leave the Whispering Woods behind.

You hastily maneuvered past Ben and dropped down beside Areon, lifting him as carefully as possible and cradled him in your lap. Tears began to fall from your eyes. Tears of anger. Of hatred. You looked up from your knight and stared daggers into the back of your betrothed.

How you longed for literal daggers.

a/n: I’m on vacation right now and headed for Japan tomorrow, so I apologize if it seemed rushed, especially at the end. I just wanted to get it out before then. This took longer than I initially intended because rather than editing, I ended up practically rewriting the whole chapter. lol. I'm still not completely satisfied with it tbh, but this version was much better. Please enjoy! Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

taglist: @pantheonofbeauty @cregansfourthwife @spicyteaandcrumpets @accidentpronedork @cococrazy18

@witch-moon-babe @a-romantic-twst @flusteredmoonn @nixtape-foryou @flowerprincezz

@trouble-sistar @username199945 @claire-loves-music @lady-dragon-rider @spider-stark

@moonnicole @hardkiddonut @xlittlefiend

[lailawinchesterr]

—✧ you’re jared padalecki’s non-actor girlfriend

liked by jaredpadalecki and others

yourusername our vacation was two days and look what i caught him doing @/jaredpadalecki

view comments…

jaredpadalecki best vacation❤️

yourusername bro you wouldn’t even know

urbsfusername hottest couple out there

yourusername that’s me & u

urbsfusername no because you’re so right👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

randomacc i can’t believe he’s still with her?? how long have they been together bro what is this

otheracc even worse they’re not even married and he doesn’t post her

anotherone it’s literally been like only two years. chill the fuck out.

liked by jaredpadalecki and others

yourusername best dinner, i love you. (and to whoever took the first pic thank u)

view comments…

friendusername wow you’re so fucking lucky oh my god jared is gorgeous

jaredpadalecki i agree, who took that pic??

yourusername i wish i knew i found it when i came home and wow

jaredpadalecki because you look gorgeous

yourusername ugh love u

urbsfusername that pic’s unholy fuckkk so pretty

— liked by yourusername

jpadacc he’s so cute with her

randomuser he literally never posts her and her entire feed is about him it’s pathetic

jpadacc jared hardly posts anything that’s not spn/walker/work related anyways, it was the same when he was dating sandy

randomuser yeah but at least sandy had dignity and didn’t keep posting about him she’s definitely using him

liked by gencortese and others

yourusername this week i got to work on the set of walker and see my incredible boyfriend put to work + i made my first youtube video, as highly requested, me and try gfs cooking. thank you for all these amazing opportunities and celebrations, i’m so grateful to have you in my life, honey — and for everyone else for enjoying my journey💗 @/jaredpadalecki @/gencortese @/urbsfusername @/friendsusername

view comments…

jpad love seeing her thrive, about to go watch the video right now!!!

urbsfusername so happy for you baby

jaredpadalecki you deserve it and so much more sweetheart, i’m endlessly proud of you

friendusername getting drunk was my fav part of this

yourusername getting high was mine

fanusername like the fucking icon she is‼️

gencortese you were amazing!

randomacc great now she’s posting him with other girls? she’s so shamless

userone he’s literally an actor for a living, and it’s a cute pic leave her alone

usertwo me personally i would not post my boyfriend and the girl he kisses on my insta

yourfriend that’s one way to admit you’re insecure in your relationships.

userseven your so pretty

— liked by yourusername

violetbrinson loved having you on set

yourusername miss u already baby girl!

liked by yourusername and others

jaredpadalecki @/yourusername took these scary photos of me for her week on set and the video. so proud of you sweetheart, you did an amazing job! don’t forget to tune in to walker on saturday.

view comments…

yourusername i love you so much

— liked by jaredpadalecki

gencortese the cutest couple!!

danneelackles can’t wait to see you when you come back 🩷

yourusername can’t wait, de!

randomacc fucking finally at least we know he isn’t embarrassed of her

jpad jared loves her so how about we stfu

userone debatable, he didn’t even respond to her comment & i can’t wait to see the episode she’s literally never acted before how is she going to be good?

jpadfan y’all are assholes fr

jensenackles can’t wait to get to set on walker, better bring her when i’m there😂

jaredpadalecki as if i would miss the chance, miss u guys so much!! — not jared

jtwofan we’re getting jensen on set with her? wow she’s really getting everything while doing nothing

liked by jensenackles and others

yourusername happy birthday jay, i love you and i’m so grateful to have you in my life, my biggest supporter and best friend💗

view comments…

jaypad him carrying her is so jared

violetbrinson happy birthday jared, honestly the nicest person i’ve ever met!

—liked by jaredpadalecki

jaredpadalecki love you forever🤍

yourusername 🤍🤍

gencortese happy birthday, forever the most fun person on set

—liked by yourusername

liked by jensenackles and others

jaredpadalecki birthday dinner with my girl @/yourusername

view comments…

yourusername we should go to dubai for ur birthday

jaredpadalecki i second that

danneelackles miss y’all

masterlist

idk what my obsession with birthdays is, it’s just so easy to do. so um, yeah i kinda like this, hope you enjoyed it!! + inspired by @gibson-g1rl !!

i’m probably gonna do middle eastern gf next cause it’s such a need to self insert AKA the birthday trip is my next post.

violet brinson THE FUCKING LOVE OF MY LIFEE and how the fuck is she older than me? idk i genuinely want her so bad it makes me want to write for stella (i actually might)

tags: @anu-piyakya97

[blindmagdalena]

Hello!

Wonderful "Eat Your Ego, Honey" got me wondering:

what would happen if Homelander was interested in a stripper?

She's known for her dancing and, he sensed, her secret superpower/-s. Would he be furious that a girl dances in front of some "dirty" men? Would he torture her for being afraid of him? Would he be uncomfortable with the smell of her sweaty body?

I literally see scene of meeting: she's dancing to gothic metal in the dim lights of the room; Homelander is freaking out, jealous and horny (because he feels like she's having a blast dancing).

Thanks for your fanfics, I adore it! Because of your headcanons I fell in love with Homelander and decided to watch the series...

anon. the absolute RABBIT HOLE you sent me spiraling down with this ask is genuinely insane. firstly tho, thank you!! i'm so happy you enjoy my work and have been inspired to watch the show! i hope you love it as much as i did.

okay, now, onto the meat of this. i can't imagine Homelander ever being in a strip club, but i absolutely can see Vought having a dancer supe who performs at shows! and then i started thinking about what kind of powers she might have.

(this got long. strap in.)

and okay. bear with me here. i have the FAINTEST memory of a kids show (something like goosebumps or are you afraid of the dark) where they told a monkey-paw type story of a girl who wished that everyone would like/love her. and of course this turned out to be a fucking nightmare. people were obsessed with her automatically to a scary degree and she was eventually swarmed and maybe killed by the aggression of the adoring crowd? i don't remember.

but that made me think about her power being something of that nature. a chemical that compels people to adore her. when she sweats, and that sweat evaporates off of her skin, it fills the air people in the vicinity inhale it. it's what makes her dances so incredibly popular! but too much exposure to her powers can cause, uh... scary side effects in people. make them deranged. obsessive.

she hates it. it's destroyed all the relationships in her life. it's pretty much inevitable that she'll eventually effect the people around her, and it either freaks them out to the point they break contact with her or creates a completely inauthentic infatuation with her. it's impossible for her to know if anyone actually likes her, or if they're just under the influence of her powers.

she, like Homelander, would know what it's like to be "loved" in the most hollow sense of the word.

how cut to Homelander who's present at one of these shows where she's dancing and oh my god something smells incredible. downright intoxicating. it calls to every fiber of his being and he follows the scent of it until he's close enough to the stage, and it shocks him to his core to realize it's a person.

except! Homelander is so fucking chock full of V himself that he's not wholly affected by her... idk, pheromones? whatever you want to call her aura of effect. but he IS intrigued by it. by her. by the way her body moves and how she seems to have cast a SPELL on the entire audience.

he expects he'll be able to get a chance to speak with her after the performance, but bafflingly, she gets the FUCK outta there as soon as her set is done. naturally he has to follow!!!!

and okay i just had so many ideas for this! i even thought of One Single Friend she has who's a fellow supe and, due to his own powers, he's immune to her effect. i haven't figured out how exactly. maybe he doesn't breathe the way normal humans do. or he has some kind of innate filtration that makes him immune to gasses and things. his supe name is something stupid like... The Filtrator.

speaking of which her supe name would probably be like. Enchantress. something that alludes to the charming effect she has. but her friend knows how her powers work and he playfully calls her The Perspiren. perspiring siren. 😭😂

anyways i think they could have a lot of really interesting parallels! and of course Homelander would be intensely possessive of her, but he's also a HUGE exhibitionist and i think he would get off on knowing how badly everyone wants someone that's his.

he wouldn't ever physically hurt/torture her, but he would of course become violent if his possession of her were challenged or threatened in any way. if anyone touched what's his, or presumed they could take her. anyone she showed interest in would definitely wind up dead.

can you tell that i thought WAY too hard about this.

idk if i would make this an oc or a reader fic. i feel like this could definitely work for my first proper supe!reader fic! it's got a ton of potential. thanks so much for sending this!

[girlsneedff]

NSFW- Minors and Ageless blogs please dni

Nepo-baby!Gojo x f!Reader, Gojo’s a loser/desperate, Modern AU, Masturbation (Gojo), slight public masturbation (tbh it’s just Satoru being down bad)

Word count: 4.5k

Author’s yap: Ok ok ok so- I started this when the lack of AC in my dorm was frying my brain, and it gave me an idea. Now I’m freezing my ass off and fantasizing about the heat. This isn’t too smutty, but if I’m still into this, I might expand… Enjoy pooks <3

Dive In!

It’s hot as shit outside, and you know what that means: the college rec center pool’s gonna be packed.

Every god-forsaken year, the Earth teeters a bit too close to the Sun just around the time that students are moving those obnoxious highlighter-colored carts up and down the streets carrying their belongings. Everyone’s wiping their foreheads, a content sigh when they step into the lobby of the dorm building. This doesn’t last too long, unfortunately. Because as soon as you step onto a resident floor, let alone an actual dorm room, it’s like Satan pulled apart his ass cheeks and sandwiched you right in between ‘em.

Hot as shit and there’s no AC, so for the very unlucky majority who didn’t bring a fan (as instructed by housing, who don’t live under these conditions, mind you), they’re stuck sizzling in their dorms, hopelessly opening their dusty windows for wishing for any semblance of a draft to come in.

It’s miserable. But luckily, there’s a solution! And no, it’s not fighting someone’s mom for the last desk fan in Target.

It’s the university’s recreational pool! Open to all students, it’s like a gift from Heaven (or a college alumni). Everyone, and I mean everyone, is there.

It’s like a big pool party (albeit indoors)- everyone’s got some sort of appendage in the water, trying to cool off. A few girls have their towels set up on the side, lying on their stomach as they scroll on their phone or read a book. A couple of people brought a beach ball- tossing it around. You're sitting on the side chatting with your roommate, Shoko, kicking your feet into the water, as she leans on the rim of the pool, hair up in a clip.

“I don’t get why they haven’t installed any AC units- or even central air.”

“If they even think about renovating, G. Hall will literally fall into smithereens.”

Shoko jokes, resting her chin in her hand as she looks up at you, tiredly.

“As if the Gojo clan wouldn’t be able to donate more money for a renovation. That’s pocket money for them.” You yawn, drained too. The heat is tiring. Especially after the two of you just finished setting up your dorm together for the third year in a row- this time, without your parents to help y’all. Y’all were burning up, and you needed to cool down- real bad.

You do a scan of the pool. Some familiar faces, others not so much. The school’s big as shit, and you keep to yourself and your group- you don’t need to know everybody. Yuki’s in the water with her boyfriend, playing chicken with some other people. She’s got a death grip on his pigtails, almost as if she’s steering him around, smothering his face between her thighs. A guy named Kento- your study partner from last year- is over by the stairs to the pool- wanting to be in it, but not completely submerged. He seems to be enjoying his time by himself. Ino and his boys are the ones hitting around the beach ball, splashing around in the extremely crowded pool.

“Look at all of our sorry asses…” You mutter, sighing as you sip on a drink you brought.

“When I didn’t want summer to end, I wasn’t talkin about the heat. But whatever. 2 more weeks being in the 8th circle of hell, and it’s back to our regularly scheduled progra- oh my-” Shoko stops mid sentence, her eyes glued to something as she hits your thigh profusely.

“What- what? Yaga in a jock strap?” You finally turn and see him (Shoko side eyes you- why would you want to look at Yaga in a jock strap). The man, The myth. The… nuisance.

“I thought he was too good to come here and hang with the common folk.”

“Maybe he wanted to cosplay as a broke college student like the rest of us for a day.”

Satoru Gojo- ultimate legacy, trust fund baby, nepo spawn, and just all-around spoiled brat. And he’s proud of it. Wearing blue Versace swim shorts and his sunglasses indoors, which only works for him with his scary ass eyes, he saunters into the place, expressing unbelievable childlike wonder at the sight of the pool.

“So this is what a public pool is like!”

“You don’t have to sound pretentious.” Suguru quips, walking in front of his best friend to scan the area. It’s crowded as a bitch in this place.

“I’m just- amazed, that's all. And you come here by yourself?”

“No. With other friends. Because I’m likable.”

Satoru frowns at that, shifting his beach chair under his arm uncomfortably.

“And it’s not like you’d come.” This was true. Under normal circumstances, Satoru wouldn’t step foot in this place. The water wouldn’t be good for his skin. But, when his pool’s getting renovated, he figures that he has no choice. He thought that there would be 5, maybe 10 people there. Well, he now knows he was wrong; almost all of JJU: Tokyo is here. And he’s now also made aware of the fact that most students don’t have AC.

He follows behind Suguru as he leads them through the crowd of bodies, the heat radiating from them all damn near breaking Satoru out into a sweat.

“Here- and lean that chair up against the wall or something. It’ll take up too much space.” Suguru says, as he hunkers down on the floor, scooting up to the clearing at the rim of the pool. He smooths the back of his hair up, readjusting his ponytail, sighing when his legs hit the water.

Yea… Satoru’s not doin that. He brought this chair, and he’s gonna use it, spatial awareness be damned. Ignoring all of the dirty looks he gets from people, he sets his chair right next to his friend (who is pretending not to know him) and sits, reclining with a dramatic sigh that only Satoru could argue was authentic. He crosses his legs and puts his hands woven behind his head, looking up and basking… in the industrial light.

“You can’t tan under this IKEA lighting.” Suguru says, not even bothering to look in Satoru’s direction.

“Yea- well, what do you propose that I do?” Satoru can feel himself getting slightly irritated with this public pool shit.

“Get in the water. That’s what we came here for, right.”

Satoru clumsily folds up his chair, not even bothering to go lean it against the wall in fear that he’d lose his sliver of access to the water (he doubts that Suguru would save it for him right now to be honest). Slowly but surely, he eases himself down into the water, holding his breath. He can already feel that he’s goin to need several bubble baths (extra bubbles) after this. He even closes his eyes, wading in the water and trying to get comfortable.

And then Satoru jumps into something. With a slight jolt, he looks over his shoulder and he’s gobsmacked seeing you look back at him, glasses threatening to fall off his dripping face.

He quickly gathers himself, pushing his glasses up then running his hand through his hair. And then he subtly recoils, realizing he just let that filthy shit in his scalp.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Shoko’s got a shit-eating grin on her face, as you look at this man, somewhat horrified. Never did you think that you would ever meet this man face to face, but here he is- back to leg. And he’s hot- I mean, not in the physical way (well, you don’t think he’s bad looking but-) he’s quite literally hot to the touch. It’s abnormal- his body temperature’s like magma.

“Sorry.” He gives you a faint smile, the right dimple he has showing slightly.

“No worries.”

There’s a period of silence, and you take this opportunity to try and turn back to your friend, but he pipes up.

“I’m Satoru, by the way. What’s your name?”

You turn to look at him, gears turning in your head as your decide whether or not you want to give him a fake name or-

Yuki calls your name from the center of the pool and you almost curse at the timing.

“Wanna hop in this round?” She calls, Choso’s hands on her thighs to steady her while her hands are cupped around her mouth, calling out to you. Choso brings them closer.

“No, I’m ok. I don’t have a partner-”

“I’ll be your partner.” Satoru practically has stars in his eyes. "If... you want me to be, though. I'm a stranger, so- so stranger danger…”

Oh brother, he’s rich and a fuckin loser.

"So you wanna play, rich boy?" Yuki asks him, completely neglecting the shudder that both you and Satoru do in response to his whack ass comment. Shit, even Choso winces in response, trying to regulate his usually very expressive face just in case Satoru sees, tells his clan, and Choso’s scholarship ends up revoked.

Satoru manages to stammer out a yes, though followed by him saying he understands if he wasn't invited to play.

"This is not kindergarten- you can play with the big kids." She jokes, hopping off her boyfriend's shoulders and into the water.

"I'll be your partner for this round, if that helps. I’m good at it, don’t worry." You're absolutely elated that Yuki offered herself- you're not sure if you would have been able to team up with Satoru. You and Choso are cool, exchanging a grin as you hop off of the ledge of the pool, plowing through the water over to him.

"Ok...."

"..."

"How do you play chicken?"

Good grief.

“I’ll teach you, then.” Yuki wades over to Satoru, and his lips contort into a nervous grin. He just prays that he doesn’t embarrass himself (anymore than he already has) in front of you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Satoru ain't shit at playing chicken.

“I’m best friends with a bubble boy…” Suguru mutters under his breath, running his hand painstakingly over his face as he watches Satoru look like a cat in water.

Any splash to his face, and he's completely selling, allowing Yuki to fall off (much to her dismay) or giving you and Choso enough time to make y'all's way over to them to attack. It was to the point that your body was completely dry, save for your feet. Slowly but surely though (after like, 5 rounds), he begins to get the hang of it, getting over his disdain for this rancid water touching his face and accepting the fact that he'll have to do several deep cleanings of his pores when he gets home.

He's actually starting to have fun- settling more into the atmosphere and letting his competitiveness show. And you're not minding it. You were dreading having to interact with him at first, let alone play a game with him because you thought that he would be a dick, but you were wrong. Well, not exactly wrong- but he was less dicky than you thought.

“Ok- time to switch for the next round!” Yuki says with a smile (which looks slightly elated, in your opinion) as she hops off of Satoru’s shoulders.

“Hm? We don’t stay with the same partners every round?” Satoru asks- something you were also thinking. For once you too seem to be on the same page about this game.

“No! We switch every round.” What a goddamn liar. She’s just tired of losing because the pretty princess is scared of getting his face wet.

This means that you’re stuck with the pretty princess. Fuck.

You slowly climb down Choso, who is simultaneously welcoming his girlfriend with open arms. Satoru’s mind is moving a mile a minute with every little ripple of water to inadvertently send in his direction.

You make your way over to the ledge of the pool, hoisting yourself up, and by Heaven- Satoru can see your ass jiggle out of his peripheral and he almost seizes. You turn around, and sit on the ledge, just looking at him. And he swears he’s getting closer to going into cardiac arrest with every second of him being the center of your attention.

“Come here-” You beckon, motioning for him with your hand. He nods helplessly, trying not to look too desperate with how fast he’s moving to you.

“Now I’m not as good as Yuki, so if we lose, it’s not entirely on you this time.” You smile, scooting up, placing your legs over his shoulders. Good lord does this man smell… expensive. It’s good. I’m not talking played out Dior Savauge, I’m talking Hermès, Dolce and Gabbana. You’re a sucker for a good smelling man. Even if this one is quite literally the most dramatic man on Earth.

“I’m not good at all, so anything you do I’ll watch with awe.” He places his hands on your thighs- jeez, his hands are big.

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. He’s not.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You shift nervously on Satoru's shoulders, while Satoru is quite literally in Heaven- though, he would prefer it if his face were the other way. He has never been this close to a woman outside of his family, so this entire interaction was rocking his small little world. He's keeping his hands on your thighs while his mind is completely mush, his ears are flushed. It’s like as soon as you got on his shoulders, his ability to comprehend anything said to him was decimated.

“Satoru- Satoru!”

You call to him as Choso and Yuki splash towards you, Yuki’s face wearing a huge smile now that she’s got the upper hand. You call him again, and all this bumbling buffoon can manage to say to you is “Uh-huh, u-uh-huh.”

(Shoko runs to the bathroom, almost peeing herself from laughing too hard.)

Fuck it- thinking quick, you grab a hold of his hair, trying to Remi-Ratatouille him around. And surprisingly- it works!

Left you go!

Right- to the riiiighhhhhhhhttttt-

Satoru has no fuckin idea what’s going on right now. He’s just happy to be here, a grinning mess while you pull him around the pool, narrowly avoiding Yuki, who’s maniacal laughter trails behind the two of you. 

It’s like riding a horse the way he thoughtlessly follows your pull.

“Satoru- are you ok?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at your opponents. You’re hoping that your teammate will stop being so useless, gain back consciousness, and help you the fuck out.

Getting desperate, you palm the side of his face, shaking it. Suddenly, he stops moving, and it’s like his breath is caught in his throat- a sound was caught in it? You don’t know what happened, because the next thing you knew, Yuki and Choso came crashing into you, causing you and Satoru to fly into the water. 

Gasping for air, you paddle in the water, eyes burning profusely. Satoru comes up soon after this, and you glare at him. 

His cheeks are flushed, as he lets out deep, heavy breaths. “Sorry..” Is all he could seem to muster out, giving you a nervous grin.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Satoru’s starting to get the hang of it. Ok maybe not really- but he’s more active at least. You appreciate that, as well as the banter he’s contributing. His socially inept demeanor is slowly dissolving, and he’s flinching less and less at the water.

You’re actually having a lot of fun with him.

“You guys can’t keep running forever!” Yuki yells, getting kind of frustrated from how the two of you keep slipping out of her grasp.

“Oh really? watch us.” Satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs as he splashes around to put more distance between y’all, causing you to squeal. 

“Satoru if I fall- go slow!” You say in between laughing fits. 

“Just hold on, and you won’t!”

Maybe you too had a fighting chance with this. Actually- you think you might win at least a round or two.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You two lost. Miserably. Yuki’s a fucking beast, and Choso’s the definition of an immovable force. You guys could only get away from them for so long- let’s not forget the pool’s crowded as shit. Y’all didn’t stand a chance. But hey- Satoru’s not too bad. Maybe he was just having a rough time adjusting to talking to people who don’t have a networth of $1 million+. But it was fun, you can not lie.

Satoru’s laugh is airy while he allows you to get off of his shoulders, listening to you teasing him for his performance. You shuffle yourself back onto the ledge of the pool next to Shoko, who seems to be in deep conversation with Suguru.

“I never thought that someone could be that bad at Chicken.”

“Hey- I prefaced this entire thing with the fact that I didn’t know how to play.” He laughs again- he’s so giggly right now, removing himself from between your legs and going to the area next to you, places his head in his hand while he looks up at you.

“Yea, but that bad?”

“Mention it again and I’ll have a meeting with Financial Aid about you.” 

The both of you crack up.

…He’s kind of pretty- somewhere in the game he pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair, wet strands of white sticking to his forehead.The sight of his smile warms you up a bit inside. When he’s down here with the common people, he’s a pretty cool person to be around.

“I can see why you don’t come here often, then.” You say, tiling your head towards him.

“Ah, well, I usually just go to my par-” Satoru’s voice dies off. How about he doesn’t talk about his privilege for a bit. Cosplay a normal college student for a little- at least with you. He wants to relate to you- to get to know you on all levels- as much as humanly possible. 

“I… just didn’t see a purpose for it before. But this was fun.”

“A sign for you to come more often, then.”

“Will you be here?”

You smirk. “Why, so you can get our asses whooped in a game again?”

He grins, right dimple once again making an appearance.

“Just asking- the poop- pool- pool. Fuck. The pool’s nice.” He sighs- covering his face in embarrassment, cheeks swelled up with blood. 

“Sorry. Waterlog.”

You burst out laughing- his slip up and awkward responses are starting to grow on you. It’s cute.

“Well I’m sure that you have AC, so you don’t have to worry too much about being hot and sticky in a room.”

“Mmmwell,” He takes a breath, “I wouldn’t mind being hot and sticky with- hm.”

He pauses, letting his embarrassment settle in. “I’ll stop trying to talk now.”

This gets another giggle from you. “You could just say that it would be nice to see me again.” You adjust your bikini bottoms (haha) up on your hips, and then place your hand to your side to lean closer to him.

“It would be, yes.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be too bad to see you, either.”

“Satoru. We gotta go-” Suguru stands up from the ledge with a stretch. “We needa go grab groceries for the apartment.”

Satoru groans. He swiftly hoists himself up out of the water effortlessly (he hopes that you were watching, thanking the lord that he constantly worked out at the apartment gym) and quickly grabs his chair, holding it in front of himself.

“I’ll see you- and the pool again.” 

“Mhm.” You wave him bye while he trails behind Suguru out of the pool room.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

He came in the pool.

He. Fucking. Came. 

Sperm swimming in the chlorine.

He doesn't even know how it happened. With every tug of his white tufts, his dick throbbed and twitched, rubbing against the fabric of his swim shorts in a way that was driving him mad. He was already fighting for his life with having your pussy pressed up against the back of his neck. And the way that you called his name- Oo, it was dizzying for him.

Next thing he knew, your hand was on his face, and he was biting the shit out of his tongue trying not to moan, knees buckling while he shoots into the water.

And you smiled at him!

He practically talked Suguru’s ear off (nothing new) in the car about it while on the drive back to their apartment. Besides the cumming in his pants part- nah, he’s taking that to the grave. He was just so giddy about the day. His first flirtatious interaction with the opposite sex! How exciting!

“Yea yea I get it she’s so pretty, you get hard thinking about her, and you come in your pants just thinkin about her. Can we get out of fantasyland and go into Trader Joe’s now?”

Suguru rolls his eyes, looking out the passenger seat window, his arm hanging out. Satoru flushes.

“Why would anybody cum in the pool?”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

But yes, where was he? Oh yea, his hand’s fisting his cock.

He doesn’t know how his hand ended up there.

Oh, he was so pathetic today. He couldn’t even speak normally to you, let alone touch you without short-circuiting. And the way you looked at him. Like he was an absolute idiot- he’s never had anyone look at him like that before… except Suguru but it’s not the same. In a weird way, it turns him on. At least he redeemed himself slightly in the end, while he was subtly rubbing himself against the pool walls, the small dips in the tiling making the friction so much more enjoyable. 

What a fucking loser, getting off to the sound of your voice- and in a public place? Your pretty little laugh did wonders to him. And to be under your gaze with such scrutiny- ohmygod he was so happy he brought that chair, using it to cover his hard-on as he smiled at you like an idiot, following behind his best friend like a preschooler going back inside after recess.

He loved seeing how you adjusted your bathing-suit, nipples becoming erect as soon as you got out of the pool. The way that your pussy was a flimsy cloth away from coming into real contact with him- he is swimming in his thoughts right now.

And you smelt so good- it’s definitely nothing he’s ever smelt before (because he’s been close to any woman that’s had a scent worth below $200). The smell is just so- you (he plans on driving to every single fragrance store to pinpoint said scent so he can spray it on his pillow to smell while he plays with himself).

There’s nothing he wouldn’t give to have you splayed out on his bed with his head between your thighs, eating you out until you’re frantically calling for him, a tight grip on his hair the way that only you can do. Fucking his hand while you moan, for him- he’d go bankrupt to hear it. He would make you feel good- he knows it- he’ll make it his life’s mission. The little stutters and quivers you’d make when you would get close, pleading for him to make you cum. And don’t even get him started on how he would feel when his cock sinks into you. He’s confident that he wouldn’t last any longer within five minutes. As soon as he pushes past the rim, he’d be shooting ropes. So he’d have to eat you out first to save the little slivers of his dignity that he has left.

He wonders- would you think he was big? Would you struggle taking him? Fuck, seeing you whine and moan, begging him with cute little “slow down”s and whimpering about how good he’s stretching your cunt. 

He’s so stuck up in the way that your hands entangled themselves into his hair- fuck- he lets out a helpless whine as he continues his fuck sesh, moving his hand upupup, the ring of precum chasing his hand with each stroke. You used his body with little regard to how he would feel- not like he cared. You could use him however the hell you’d like. Fuck, his dick was aching with each tug. 

And you got in that water. 

He’s filthy- just so- so depraved for the way that that makes him harder, causing him to stroke himself faster. You were practically bathing in his cum, albeit unknowingly. How fucking nasty is that? He pictures you accidentally swallowing it- what would it be like watching you actually take it? Would you replicate your teary, chlorine-stung eyes while you were on your knees for him, throat fucked-out, tongue lolled, and waiting for his cum?

With that, he’s seeing stars, shooting comets onto his satin sheets, utterances of “Oh fuck”s and “I’m cumming”s, and finally, with a sigh, says your name while his lower torso twitches from the sensitivity, accompanied with the cool breeze his fan is blowing onto his handless cock.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“The amount of emails we’ve been getting about the heat is starting to get a bit concerning, I must admit.” One of the chairs of the university says, mouth full of food. 

All of the important figure heads of the college are sitting at the Gojo family’s long dinner table, conversing like the old buddies they are. It’s a usual thing for them to do, where they chat about stupid, unimportant uppity-rich people things, like school funding or whatever.

“What do you think we should do about this?” The housing chair directs this question to Satoru’s father, who opens his mouth before his son interrupts quickly, voice booming in the confident air that he learned to develop with people in (or slightly below- not too far below) his tax bracket.

“My friend’s in the dorms say that the dorms are pretty cool- It’s cold in there, even.” Satoru says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders while he pushes his wagyu around on his plate. 

What a fuckin liar, but it’s the cross he’s willing to bare in order to see you again. Bikini covering the parts that make his mouth water, fanning yourself from the heat- hot and bothered, just like him. It’ll be worth the possible pimples he’ll get.

With this, the big-wigs frame their decision around this.

“Oh, really? It’s already so cold…”

“it would also mean that we would have to expand the budget.”

“The students should be fine without AC. If anything, the pool is open.”

Satoru looks down, smiling to himself.

If the students of Jujutsu University: Tokyo knew that the only reason they’re not getting AC units is because Satoru Gojo, all-around nepo-baby, spoiled brat, and pussy-whipped loser wants to have a chance to see the girl he fucks himself to at the pool again, they’d barbeque and skewer him alive.

[meliciousmel13]

WOULD'VE COULD'VE SHOULD'VE

i scare myself sometimes,

⇢ i almost took my life.

warnings: angst with no happy ending.

wc: 1,517 - a little short for my liking but i cut off the parts that i didn't like.

SYNOPSIS: it's been two months since the two of you broke up. it's new years party and madison wanted to talk.

taglist: @guysimgay164, @madisonbeerssecretwife

an: first fic on here, r u proud of me

The new years party was loud, sounds of chatter and laughs and drinks clicking together.

people talking to other people and drinks served in plastic cups. The glass ones were too dangerous because you can’t trust drunk people with glass and expect it to not break within 1 minute of you handing it to them—that was just your fault.

the air was humid and the smell of sweat and beer filled your lungs. your shoes were sticking to the floor due to spilled beer and you couldn’t find your friends.

you were lost. fully lost. somehow you ended up in a hallway with white doors on either side, some were half open and some had weird noises coming from them. that was disgusting. you wanted to get out, find your friends and hopefully not run into her. or anyone you know.

you finally found the stairs down and the first thing you saw was one of your friends—Allison.

“hey al, you know where ari is? she has my purse and i have my phone in it.” you said, slightly pushing your tight dress below your ass—as if that would scare away the men who gawk shamelessly at any silver of skin.

“huh? no,” she shook her head and smiled softly, “but i think i saw her go to the kitchen, you should look there first.” she said, and you let out a small ‘thank you’ in return.

you walked to the kitchen, and you saw ariana luckily. but she was talking to her. why the hell was she talking to her? no no no. you repeat in your head, turning around and trying to not be found the energetically drunk girl, knowing that if you did she would be glad to invite you into the conversation with your ex.

but of course, that was to much to wish for. and god desired to be cruel. “y/n!” ariana yelled through the music and put down her drink, grabbing your purse and shoving it in your chest. you clutch it tightly, occasionally glancing at her and trying to pay attention to whatever nonsense the blonde was spouting. ariana was friends with both of you but after you and Madison broke up she started hanging out with you more.

“i’m so glad your here i literally didn’t know what to do with it because if i left it on the counter then someone might steal it but also if i just held it with me the whole time then i would have this like bad feeling i don’t know the word but-” ariana was interrupted by Madison walking over to you, with a small smile. you rolled your eyes, and cross your arms. the last thing you wanted was seeing her again. she broke up with you. not the other way around.

“hey.” Madison said—squeaked, her voice cracking and her lips going dry, she had that strawberry lip gloss on and you thought of all the times she would lend you her perfume whenever she went on tour because she knew how much you would miss her scent. when she personally striped all the food labels from the house because of your eating disorder. 4 years that she threw away. you didn’t want to miss her. you desperately didn’t but something inside you spurred when you saw her. you missed her. you didn’t wanna admit it to yourself but you did.

“hi.” you said, and completely change your position hoping that it would make her feel excluded and then she’ll get the hint and leave. but she doesn’t. she just stands there while ariana talks about anything and everything. she stood there and waited for 30 minutes until ariana was done, to finally talk to you.

“hey uh, do you wanna talk?” she said. and you wanted to run away. to never see her again—because that’s all you wanted. to never see her again. but she won’t leave you alone. maybe she wanted to explain herself? why she broke up with you for no reason over text while she was across the world.

it ruined you. first you were exited to see a text from her and then you broke down. your hands were shaking and you were hyperventilating. you couldn’t believe it. at first your thought it was a prank. you texted back ‘is this a joke?’ and she didn’t reply. she left you on delivered. you still remember the whole 2 weeks you were rotting in your apartment. the smell of left over pizza hut and junk food was still fresh in your brain.

you didn’t understand. why why why why why. your friends tried to help. really. they did. but you didn’t listen, no, you ignored them and continued dwelling on her until you thought that the world meant nothing if she wasn’t there with you. you tried to slit your wrists but Allison stopped you. she hugged you and made you food and slept in bed with you so you knew that someone was with you. but also so you didn’t attempt again.

she made you go out the house for the first time in 2 weeks and took care of you like no other. she knew how much Madison meant to you. she was your best friend. and she also contemplated flying to whatever city Madison was in just to punch her in the face. because let’s be real. the bitch really needed it.

in the 4th week you already recovered, but she still hunted your mind. every thought and second was dedicated of think of how much of a horrible girlfriend she was. you went to her favorite restaurant and you couldn’t handle it. the memories were too much to bear, your friends understood and drove to another restaurant. but you still remembered how you two would sit and eat in silence until one giggle is let out and then the waiter tells you to be a quiet.

i miss you. i miss you. i miss you. i miss- your thoughts were interrupted by your voice, and your brain shut up for a second. “no.” you answer, and you wanted to rip out your throat for saying no.

“5 minutes. please.” she said, and you gave her a chance. you walked outside without telling her to follow but she does anyway. the backyard was huge and there were only 3 people helping one person throw up in a bush. they left after a while to get the person some water.

“talk.” you crossed your arms, and waited for her to open her mouth. she didn’t. for what seemed like 20 seconds.

“i’m sorry.” she said, and you scoffed. looking away from her face to look at anything. anything else, because you didn’t want to cry in front of her. that would be pathetic and embarrassing—your throat was tightening up and you hoped the cold air would tell your eyes to stop. please. stop. don't cry.

you looked at her weirdly. as if saying ‘that’s it?’ and you swore you said it out loud because your head was screaming at you and you pictured all the moments of where you would shout and yell and push her. you could. if you wanted to. you could. you had the right to do so—she deserved it. but you couldn’t.

“i’m sorry that i broke up with you over text, i’m sorry i hurt you. i thought that when i went on tour that- that you’d get sick of me or forget about me-” she was crying now, and her voice was cracking.

“why would i get sick of you?” you asked.

“because-”

you cut her off. “why the hell would i get sick of you? i would’ve put in the effort. we could’ve face timed everyday, but no, you thought that the hard part was too hard so you just broke up with me? you should’ve actually tried, at least. and then maybe we would still be together!” the dam broke. all the anger pilled up in 2 months of confusion and resentment.

“y/n.” Madison moved her hand to touch your arm, reassuringly, probably what she was thinking, but it just made you even more mad. she touched you and you couldn’t stand it because you missed her.

“no! don’t fucking touch me Madison.” you said, and she flinched backing away from you. you hated that. that she was afraid of you.

you walk away and madison stood there, arms to her side and tears dry. her face was a mess. mascara smudges and eyes red. you hated to leave her there but if you ‘talked’ any longer then you would be the one in that position.

so you leave. the party. your friends. you called a cab and returned to your empty apartment.

the apartment that was once associated with joy and felicity. now it’s just an empty shell of what it once was. without her. without madison. you watched the fireworks alone that night. with your phone ringing and a miserable void in your heart.

[shyrule]

yes - i project onto wars. yes - i would cry/pos if i were on the receiving end of the ‘comfort’ sections of the fics. i am mentally ill! we know this!

[kitthew]

i think the reason that kaos is such a successful adaptation, despite being so inaccurate to the myths, it’s that it’s so new, fresh, and entertaining

like, there isn’t one canonical Greek Myth. there are, of course, surviving texts from the era—homer, euripides, aeschlyus, etc. — but those are only what have *survived,* there are countless other myths and ancient retellings that have been lost to time. besides, even between the original myths, there are discrepancies and different interpretations. the myths originated in an oral storytelling tradition, and with each teller, the stories were different. sure, there were some things that stayed consistent throughout the retellings, but almost every myth has elements that varied across sources.

you could always argue that even though that might be true, they could have based the show more on less common myth alternatives that still have sources from the time period, but i personally think the fact that they’re kind of doing their own thing is literally just what the ancient greeks were doing with their myths as well lol

plus, the reason successful greek plays *were* successful was that they told existing stories in a new and interesting light. sure, it was more of a “no one goes to the theatre to find out what happens next, they go to hear how the writer is telling the myth in a new and interesting way” sort of vibe, and kaos *does* have an element of watching bc you don’t know what happens next bc so much has been changed from the original myths, but again, i think this is basically just what the greeks were doing. when something originated in an oral storytelling tradition, there isn’t One Definitive Way to retell it. kaos takes a lot of creative liberties with the source material, but there’s always room for new interpretations and ways of telling these stories

BUT the show is imo so engaging and successful despite all that bc it really gets at the heart of the myths, even though, again, it isn’t at all accurate. zeus is cruel, power-crazed, and incestuous. dionysus is literally just a boy. hera is trying so so hard to be a GirlBoss. hades and persephone are the only ones who seem to have their shit together. poseidon is a douche on a yacht. there’s some incredibly interesting and compelling world building. and at its core, the show is about two things: 1) the gods are human and fallible and 2) you cannot outrun your fate, no matter how hard you try.

and what’s more greek than that?

[demadogs]

stranger things season one 2016 was so fucking incredible. it exists as an entirely different entity to me than the rest of the show. you literally just had to be there. to this day nothing has ever come close to the amount of universal love for a fictional story that stranger things first received. ive been chasing this high for eight years.

[fiendishartist2]

guess who just watched this years fourth of footwerk

[variksel]

peachyville horror has done Something to my psyche and i dont know if i enjoy it only bcs its slow and painful ......... for the first time in my life im sitting here, 5 days before a new episode is coming out, and im getting excited about it being dndads tuesday soon

[butterflieswhisper]

ratssss i love the rats,,,, rats in paris ,,,,,,, does it technically being new standalone story mean they all did in fact die of hypothermia. man :(

[silvermoon424]

Finally finished Avatar the Last Airbender!

I'd been putting off watching it for over a decade when my partner @joestarluxe convinced me to watch it with her, lol.

I might put all my thoughts in a bigger post later on (when I'm not tired after work lol), but needless to say I really enjoyed the show! I was most impressed with the worldbuilding; ATLA really does have incredible worldbuilding and I'm excited to watch some video essays delving deeper into that aspect.

Oh, and all forms of bending are so cool!! Going off the worldbuilding point, I really love how bending is something that's foundational and deeply enmeshed in the world of Avatar. It's not just an afterthought, you really do get the sense that benders have been around since the dawn of civilization and their unique talents have shaped the way society functions (this is especially evident in the Earth Kingdom, particularly the big cities like Ba Sing Se).

I also really appreciate how subversive a lot of the morals are, especially when you consider that this was a children's show airing on Nickelodeon during the War on Terror. The Fire Nation in particular has a lot of uncomfortable similarities to the United States (they even make their children recite a pledge of allegiance at school!).

Anyway, great show and I'm mad at myself for not giving it a chance sooner. I've heard a lot of mixed things about the Legend of Korra so I'm not really interested in watching it, although I may look into some of those spinoff comics/novels.

[lesbiansanemi]

Google how to make peace with the fact that you will always be vaguely to extremely uncomfortable (depending on the day) with your body and how others perceive it until the day you die and nothing you do will ever change that

[flowercrowngods]

and today in sometimes i write shit that fucks me up for weeks: time travel au steve & trees

Steve gets up. Goes into his room — not his room at all, it’s not his home, it’s not his — knowing Hopper won’t follow him, locks the door knowing El will unlock it if she needs him, and crawls under the blanket. He doesn’t cry, just curls up and lies there in numb misery of feeling too much, thinking too much, knowing too much, and not having the right words to express anything.

The air under the blanket gets too warm to really be comfortable, but he doesn’t want to move. He’s turned into a tree again, as El would put it. Another pang of guilt and misery runs through him, because he doesn’t want to be fucked up like that, fucked up enough for a child to call him a tree because he loses his reality a lot; but then the thought of being a tree almost feels so relieving it makes him want to cry.

Because trees don’t think about their friends dying. Killed. Murdered. By forces greater than this world’s imagination. Trees don’t watch the blood seeping from them over and over again until they lose their minds and go into shock that this world doesn’t support, instead tugging him back and forth until all there is is nothingness, because there is no time to think or feel or process, and once there is time, there is too much to even start. And no one to talk to about it. No one to listen.

If he could turn into a tree and never have a single thought again, he would without hesitation.

But he can’t, so he thinks, and the thinks until he falls asleep and the thoughts turn into memories morphed with fears until it’s Steve who kills them. Steve who fails. And Steve who does it over and over again. In the Upside Down, in Eddie’s trailer, at school, in Mike’s basement.

It’s Steve. Like it was Billy.

[…]

Walking on legs that haven’t quite accommodated to being upright yet, stiff and heavy in the dark of night, Steve makes his way through the forest, tumbling and stumbling, but never enough to make him stop. He’s heaving breaths now, willing the cold air into his lungs to stop everything from feeling so wrong, to break through the haze and the fog and the cotton, to pierce his insides with little pinpricks of ice as December is fast approaching. It only serves to make him more dizzy, his head spinning, glowing spots of black and white appearing in his field of vision until he leans against a tree, catching his breath and holding it.

Holding onto it with whimpers and wheezes and pathetic little groans that make him want to scream. He punches the tree, his hand numb with pain upon impact, his knuckles stiff and scraped up; bloody, even in the pitch black darkness.

Bloody. His hands are always bloody. It stains them, has seeped into his skin, like a reverse tattoo that only he can see. This, though… This is real. It’s his blood.

And so he punches again. And again, until his breath has evened out, and the pain has moved from his arm and his side over to his hand. Over to something real.

He flexes his fingers and watches them, can barely make out their shape, and focuses on the pull of his skin, the scrapes making it feel too tight — but in a real way. In a way that… he’s not going crazy. It’s real. It’s all real. And it’s burning, sizzling along with all of that anger, the grief, the confusion, the complete and utter fucking lostness. The loneliness.

Steve punches the tree one more time, then turns around to put more distance between him and familiar walls and stale air and worried glances so heavy they slowly scrape away the scar tissue growing over all those rawest of feelings.

He walks and walks without direction or destination, simply placing one foot in front of the other as his racing heart calms down and he is overcome with an absolute, all-consuming kind of exhaustion that makes him sway the very second he stops. His eyes are getting heavy, like his body is slowly coming to the realisation that his beside clock said 3:38 a.m. and that he hasn’t slept through the night for some days now, or maybe weeks, always awoken by nightmares — on days that he even dared to fall asleep.

No one should have to feel this kind of exhaustion, Steve thinks. Even after the Russians, after torture and fighting and more torture, followed by running and more running and almost dying in a car crash and then in a fire… Even after all that, he wasn’t as exhausted as he feels right now.

Probably because back then, he had Robin. Robin who would hold his hand, Robin who would share a glance with him and resuscitate everything that died inside of him with just one brave little smile.

God, she was so brave.

Steve leans against a tree, closing his eyes for just one second as he pictures Robin — alive and smiling and determined. Robin, in the passenger seat of his car at ass o’clock in the morning, grumpy and tired, leaning in to give him a hug hello and a hug goodbye. Robin, who would roll her eyes at his antics, his insecurities and his worries — Robin, who would explain hours later, her hand in his, that he had no reason to doubt or worry. That he was fine. That he was perfect. That everything else would slot into place soon and be perfect for him, too. Payback, she’d called it.

Payback, he thinks now as he heaves another breath, willing it through his constricted throat, and just barely keeping himself from screaming. Payback, because he failed. Payback, because he watched her die and nothing, nothing good will ever come out of that.

As much as he will try to save her, she will always have died. As much as he can try to keep her safe this time around, he will always have failed her.

That’s nothing he can take back. Ever. Nothing he can fix. Nothing he can make un-happen.

It’s the cruellest constant.

One that won’t leave him alone. One that won’t let him sleep at night, one that won’t leave his head even for a minute, flooding his consciousness with memories of blood and failure, weighing down his conscience until he can’t fucking breathe, and—

A sob escapes his throat even as he stumbles forward, continuing on his nonexistent path that feels a lot like running, fleeing from this new life, as though he could magically make his way back to the old one. Because they have died. They’re dead. He watched them. This new world won’t fix that. Won’t fix him. And he doesn’t deserve fixing anyway.

So he runs.