#that’s a joke; please keep things to yourself if that’s what you’re comfortable with
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dirty-urie · 1 year ago
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hi! not original anon about Mike BUT I do love him. I’ve spoken to Mike a few times for a while and he seems to be a really good dude. I’m not inclined to share exactly what Mike said, but it sounds like he came into Brendon’s life when Brendon really needed it, and helped Brendon sort of see things differently, and he’s happy now. And for various reasons, I don’t think Mike has taken advantage of Brendon at all.
Well then that’s phenomenal! I’m glad! This could also be Mike Viola ghostwriting but I’ll choose to believe it isn’t 😂 look, I really don’t mean any harm whatsoever to Mike, nor do I care that much (only because it’s none of my business). My other answer to why I dislike him was going to be “he doesn’t even play the viola,” but I only gave a more serious answer to assuage anyone’s fears that my distaste was rooted in anything worse than personal preference. He certainly doesn’t kick puppies or hate homeless people or anything to my knowledge. At the end of the day, it’s not something that affects me, and I do support anything that’s ultimately beneficial for everyone involved. I do appreciate you offering your perspective and also for being nice about it 😅
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httpsserene · 6 months ago
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𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)
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summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)
author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.
grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx
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imessage • preseason 2023
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That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.
“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.
“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”
“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.
You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well. 
“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”
“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”
You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.
“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”
“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”
The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.
“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”
You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”
bahrain • 2023
After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason. 
Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed. 
On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.
You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.
“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”
Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”
“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”
“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”
You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”
“When did you meet my mom?!”
australia • 2023
You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.
The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.
Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”
You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.
“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.
“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”
instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑
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liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others
bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗
tagged oscarpiastri
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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇
➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑
➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco
➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!
nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills
➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing
➥ user mama piastri???? im crying
user the koala photo with the bow 😩
➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?
➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫
user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO
➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤
➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf
➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀
oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt
➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯
➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs
➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle
➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies
➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗
miami • 2023
The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers. 
You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.
“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”
You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”
He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.
“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”
Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.
“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.
“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”
Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib. 
“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”
twitter • may 14th
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instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑
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liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others
landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨
tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant
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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️
user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧
user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?
➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐
adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?
➥ user what the hell is happening
➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀
bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over
➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)
➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever
➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive
➥ user ozzy 🫠
landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?
➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬
➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!
qatar • 2023
You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.
A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year. 
são paulo • 2023
You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.
You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.
“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”
“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”
“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”
Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”
“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”
“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”
“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”
“You’re the best, seriously.”
“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”
“Okay, he can have one cookie.”
“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.
“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”
instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑
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liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others
bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx
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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨
user this is giving engagement reveal
charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣
➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD
➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished
➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒
➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS
➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child
oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post
➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???
➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me
➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(
➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo
➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️
➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid
mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅
➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭
➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future
➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????
twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑
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twitter • preseason 2024
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miami • 2024
Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan. 
“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”
Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.
“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.
You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.
“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”
You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.
“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”
instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑
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liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others
bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)
tagged oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃
➥ user 👀👀👀
➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬
➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you
➥ user wowwwww lando
➥ user shameful honestly 😕
markwebber happy milf day
➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo
➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️
➥ user that was not a typo mark
➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO
➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(
➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️
oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭
➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.
➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you
➥ oscarpiastri :[
monaco • 2024
You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.
Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today. 
You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.
twitter • may 25th • monaco
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instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑
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liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others
bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x
tagged landonorris
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user okay mamiiiii
user all parents deserve to relax !!!
oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️
➥ user damn he goin through it
➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒
➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc
➥ oscarpiastri :]
alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈
➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏
➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱
➥ user wow that's a really long time fr
oscarpiastri mama y papa
➥ user mama y papa
➥ user mama y papa
➥ user mama y papa
instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑
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liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others
landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.
tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri
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user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy
user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️
bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx
➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮
➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️
➥ landonorris even happier now x
user this new wave of parents concerns me...
oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???
➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously
➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better
➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]
➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️
➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?
➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years
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© httpsserene2024
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envy-of-the-apple · 5 months ago
Text
The Monster You Know
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Synopsis: For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you.
Word Count: 6.9k
(Warnings: implied masturbation, implied nsfw, implied noncon recording, death of a minor character.....im pretty sure i missed a warning so lemme know any pls)
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Instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself on the floor.
It's not a comfortable spot to sleep in. The carpet is clean, but it's odd because you don't have this type of carpet in your room. Actually, this isn't your room at all. 
But the panic doesn't really set in until you realize your arms are bound. 
You don't notice him until he speaks. You're too busy yanking on the metal, pulling your hand as hard as you could. The cuffs don't even budge. 
"If you keep yanking your arms like that, you might break 'em." 
He's tall, rivaling the door he just walked through. He looks a couple of years older than you, but his white hair can't be natural, not at his age. His blue eyes are lax. The worst part is how relaxed he looks. He has an eased posture and a pretty smile. He's amused, watching you like you’re a pesky mouse trapped in a bucket. 
You don’t know him. You’re stuck in an unfamiliar room, chained to the floor, and you don’t know this man. 
Escape isn’t possible. So you resort to the next best thing: you plead. 
“Who are you?” Your voice is light and wavers on every syllable. “Where-Where am I? Did you bring me here? Please don’t-“
”You always this talkative in the morning?” He dodges your question with a lax grin. “Anyway, uh, sorry about this-“ he gestures to your tied-up form “-I would've used a talisman, but those won’t work on you for obvious reasons. The handcuffs aren’t too tight, are they?” 
He steps closer, and you scream. It’s shrill, filled with a type of fear that makes your blood freeze because you don’t know this man, you don’t know where you are, and he’s getting closer. 
“Okay okay, I get it!” He manages to say over your pleas for help, but he steps back, and it’s enough to quiet your fear. “Obviously, you need some more time alone, so I’m gonna give you a couple more hours. Feel free to take a mint!” He cheerily points to the nightstand. 
He leaves as quickly as he enters. The door shuts but doesn’t lock. You’d be relieved if you weren’t still incapacitated. 
You look around the room. Nothing of value, nothing that you could reach and grab. Apart from a chair, the only other pieces of furniture were a heavy-looking bed and a bolted-down nightstand. Your kidnapper was certainly meticulous. 
The restraints have just enough slack for you to lean over. You peer at the nightstand. A plastic bowl, too flimsy to be made into a weapon. It contains wrapped-white candies. You gingerly pick one up. 
They’re sugar-free. 
He returns to the mints scattered all over the floor. 
“Okay.” He notes, gracefully stepping over the mess. “Clearly, you aren’t a fan of peppermint. 'you a wintergreen kinda’ person?” 
You don’t look at him. You’ve been in the same position you had been in for hours, sitting curled on the floor. By then, your desperation was starting to show through. 
“Please just let me go.” You mutter, your voice so low, it’s a miracle he can hear you. “I don’t have any money. I have nothing to offer.”
”Well, that’s good because I don’t want your money.” He says. “I know this looks pretty bad, but this is for your sake more than mine.”
You look at him just as he squats down to your height. You shift away. he smiles.
”Do you know what sorcerer's are?” 
You blink. 
“It’s fine if you don’t; we all start somewhere, right? A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate cursed energy. I’m a sorcerer! I don’t wanna brag too much, but I’m pretty good at it.” 
He laughs like he’s telling a joke, and you suddenly realize that you were kidnapped by someone who believes he’s a wizard. 
“Guess you’re still lost, huh? How about I just show you instead?” He points to an ironed-out shirt hanging on a rack. You follow his finger. 
He didn't move. There was no machinery. The shirt just crinkled by itself before it dropped to the floor. 
You gape. The man grins. 
"Pretty amazing, right? That's cursed energy, or, my power if you wanna be less technical." 
"Cursed energy." You whisper, a repetition of his words rather than any actual understanding. He beams regardless. 
"Yeah! Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but let's just start with the basics for now. Baby steps." 
Your dread doesn't fade. Earlier, you feared what a man could do to you, tied and defenseless. Now, you wondered what this man wouldn't do to you. 
"Okay, then....why?" You warily ask him. "Why tell me any of this? What's the point?" 
"An excellent question!" He commends you, as though he were your teacher and not your jailor. "See, cursed energy is a bit complicated, but it's extremely effective. In almost every case, it's the solution. Except for you." 
You shrink back. 
"What-what does that mean?"
His grin turns feline. He's enjoying this; seeing you shake, waver beneath his eyes. 
"Exactly what I said: you aren't affected by cursed energy. A sorcerer could use their technique on you, and there won't even be a scratch on your body. You're basically the Eraserhead of the Jujutsu World." 
You stare at him. He hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh. 
"I'm not great at explanations. How about we just have a hands-on experience?" 
He extends his hands. A purple orb crackles to life, slowly gaining mass. 
"Not too big," he says, though it's clear he isn't speaking to you, "don't wanna wreck the room." 
He adjusts his angle so it's facing you. Your eyes widen, and the desperation to wrangle yourself out of the handcuffs grows stronger. 
"Wait, stop!" You pleads fall on deaf ears. "Okay okay. I believe you. I believe you-" He flicks his fingers. You close your eyes just before impact. 
You expected something. Electricity, a shock. Pain. Your body being eviscerated in milliseconds. 
Nothing. Not even a gust of wind. 
When your eyes open, he's grinning at you. 
"See?" He says, "Not even a scratch." 
He's right. Your clothes aren't even rustled, but the evidence is there. The carpet below you is shaved and cleaned off. And the wall closest to you has cracks on it.
You look back up at him. 
"I said I believed you." 
He shrugs. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we're on the same page." His smile is starting to look less scary and more annoying. 
Your mind still struggles to keep up with all the information you've been given. The typhoon of anxiety is coursing through you. 
"So, then....why this?" You mention to the handcuffs. 
"Just a little confirmation you won't go crazy and destroy the place." He supplies happily. "If jujutsu doesn't work on you, then bindings and talismans definitely won't do a thing. Looking back, abduction probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world. I would've figured something else out, but time wasn't on our side in this case. Especially if we wanted you alive." 
You pale at that. He notices. 
"What, you thought I'd be the only person who noticed you? You're an anomaly. In our world, that's dangerous. Also, the bounty on your head is a pretty nice incentive for people to get the job done." 
"A bounty?"
He grins, and the number he gives makes your mouth hang open. 
"Yup, pretty crazy, right? Anyway, until everything settles down, you and I are roomies!" He claps. "Isn't that exciting!?" 
You glance at him. Then, in the room. Then, at your cuffs. Everything was going so fast. The only constant was him. 
"So, I'm not really a prisoner?" You ask. "I could just...leave, right?" 
"Sure you could. If you hear all that and still wanna go, I won't stop you. Promise." He nods. "But you'd be dead as soon as you step out of the apartment." 
It's not a threat. It's a promise. And not from him. That makes it worse. 
This is insane. All of this is insane; who'd believe any of it? But his powers....that can't be faked. As well as everything that he told you. Why would he lie? What reason could he have to deceive you? 
"Okay," you say hesitantly, "just one more thing." 
The man leans in. 
"What's your name?" 
He smiles. 
Becoming Gojo's roommate was an easy transition. 
You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow. Becoming someone's consenting captive isn't a struggle once you get used to it. A few days in and you and your 'captor' have fallen into an easy rhythm. It's easy to grow trusting of him, especially when there are others who can vouch for him. 
"You should be arrested." Ieiri mumbles, checking your wrists. 
"What? I can't believe you're upset with me." Gojo responds though he doesn't sound very panicked. "I was desperate!" 
Ieiri shakes her head, continuing wrapping your wrists. Amid your panic during the first few hours in Gojo's apartment, you managed to sprain your wrists, trying to yank yourself out of the handcuffs. You wince when she presses on your bruised skin. 
"Sorry," she says, voice flat. You smile anyway. 
Ieiri was also a sorcerer, but she had a different technique. Instead of Gojo's destruction, hers revolved around healing. You've never really seen it in action ("My technique won't work on you; even then, it's a sprained wrist. You'll live."), but it sounded pretty powerful. 
"I'm not upset." Ieiri continues. "But I'm surprised you're going along with all this." That sentence is directed at you. 
You shrug while trying to keep still for her. "He was pretty convincing." 
Ieiri raises a brow, before ultimately deciding she doesn't care. 
"Again, I'm very sorry about all this." Ijichi pipes up. Ever since he entered Gojo's flat, he's been doing nothing but begging for your forgiveness for Gojo's abrupt actions. Apologetic, but not very shocked. You're assuming this isn't the first time Gojo has done something like this. 
Gojo's allies were very different from each other, you ultimately decided. 
“We thought we’d have more time to approach you,” he continues with a nervous smile, “we never expected the clans to move so quickly.” 
“Clans?” You ask, “What clans?” 
Ijichi gives Gojo a look. Gojo looks away, whistling. Eventually, Ijichi’s shoulders drop. 
“Some minor clans with dwindling jujitsu sorcerers.” He gives. “And then the bounty happened and well…” he trails off. 
You nod. “So, when will everything go back to normal?”
Gojo grins. Ieiri sighs. It’s Ijichi who gives the most concrete response. 
You look at the three of them. “Or will things ever go back to normal?”
”It’s hard to say,” Ijichi says, “news travels fast in the jujutsu world, but it’s not improbable. Miyashiro will let us know eventually.” 
"Miyashiro?” 
To answer your question, Ijichi pulls out his phone. You stare at a picture of yourself. But you know you’ve never been in that restaurant before. 
“It’s his technique.” Ijichi tells you. “Flesh manipulation. For the time being, Miyashiro will pose as you and can hopefully air out any potential bounty hunters. He’s the perfect man for the job.” 
You nod, a bit skeptical. “Isn’t this a bit dangerous? Aren’t people trying to kill me?” 
Ijichi tucks away his phone. “Miyashiro is one our best. He'll be fine.” He assures. 
Satisfied with your answers, you nod. Ieiri pulls away after she finishes wrapping your hand. Gojo claps his hands together. 
“See, roomie? You’re in great hands!” He chirps. You nod, if only to seem compliant. 
Apart from Gojo himself, Ieiri and Ijichi are the only ones who know about your predicament, his most trusted people. The rest of the world is unaware that there's someone posing as you, nor that you've gone into hiding. Not your friends. Not even your family. ("It's for the best," Ijichi explained when you voiced your worries, "but we promise, once the bounty is down, we'll return you back to your life. It'll be like nothing ever happened.").
Settling in barely takes a week. Gojo's nice enough to lend you his room, more than happy to set up in the living room. Despite how you two 'met', he's quickly proven to be a nice guy. 
Nice. Just nice. 
To be honest, you don't know all that much about Gojo. He's letting you stay in his home, but you don't see him all that much. Gojo is gone pretty much all day. Sometimes, he's gone for days on end. The apartment feels more like yours than his. 
"I'm the strongest." He told you when you asked. You don't know what he means by that, so you didn't pry. 
Despite the awkwardness, you don't mind the distant relationship. The man probably has his day packed with hunting down demons and this school he talked about. 
The change doesn't happen until two weeks after you move in. 
You weren't allowed to have a phone, nor any internet access, so you mostly spent your time doing hobbies. You've always wanted to learn to crochet, and now you finally had time to actually learn. Drawing also took some hours out of your day. And eventually, you moved onto cooking. 
Ijichi was more than happy to grab you the grocery items when you asked. When you insisted on paying him back, he declined profusely. He was actually the one who organized getting your things and really moving you in. You have another thing you owe these people. 
Cooking was a steep learning curve. Before, you'd only made simple sandwiches and curries, so the food starting out wasn't the best. But you enjoyed the journey more, rather than the end result. Pretty soon, you became pretty good at it. 
Gojo wasn't home often these days, so you jump when the front door clicks open. He takes off that blindfold he's always wearing, blinking a couple times before his blue gaze settles on you in the kitchen. 
"What's all this?" He cocks his head. He isn't smiling. 
Oh no. You remembered getting permission to use his kitchen, but maybe he hadn't expected you to go this far? The kitchen is a mess. There's flour everywhere. You still hadn't washed the cutting board, nor the knives. 
"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I can clean up and-" 
He waves his hand. "It's fine. I'm not mad, I just..." He drifts off. 
You suddenly have a feeling that you might've misread this entire situation. 
"Would you like some?" You ask. "I think I made too much." 
"I could eat," he says.
You smile. 
A few moments later, the two of you are settled on the table. Gojo's never been so quiet before. In the short time you've known him, he's always been boisterous and playful. Now, he's silent. Staring at the food. 
You hold your breath when he takes his first bite. 
"It's good." He says, his mouth full. It's cute. "Really, really good. Damn." 
You laugh out of nerves. 
"You think so? I'm glad! It was my first time trying out this recipe and I wasn't sure if it'd turn out well and..." you're rambling, you know that. You can't help yourself. 
"No, it's good. Real good," he says. It's silent again, but not as uncomfortable this time. The only thing you hear is the clanking of silverware and the hum of the lights. Outside the window, the city lights twinkle. 
You're on your last bite when he speaks again. 
"'been a while since I've had a homecooked meal." He starts with a slight laugh. "Kinda' forgot what it's like." 
You think of the fridge. How it was only ever stacked with protein shakes and instant meals. Gojo was a sorcerer. The strongest. You think you get what that means now. 
"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," you say. 
He looks at you with the prettiest blue you've ever seen. The color of a bright cloudless sky. 
"I think I'd like that." 
Who ever said the phrase 'the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was onto something. Your friendship with Gojo bloomed after that night. On the seldom nights he came home, dinner was made and sitting on the table. It took a few days for the two of you to warm up enough to talk to each other. Once Gojo got going, it was a lot harder to shut him up. He talked about his school, his work as a teacher for other jujutsu sorcerers. You liked the way he talked about his students. Nothing but pride and affection .
On the nights he didn't come home, you'd save the leftovers in the fridge. They were usually gone by the morning. 
He was around a lot more after that night. Not that you minded, it was his house. You just didn't get a few things about him. For example, that blindfold of his. Why wear it when it was clear he couldn't see with it on? 
You decide to bring it up the third time he nearly runs you over.
"It's part of my technique." He explains. "The six eyes. They're basically cursed energy x-rays. The blindfold just limits their strength." 
You were lounged on the sofa watching TV while he was plopped right next to you. He's switched his blindfold for his glasses. 
"Oh," you say when it clicks, "and since I block people's abilities you..." 
"Yup! Can't see you at all!" Gojo happily fills in. "It doesn't help that you're so quiet. Maybe I should put a bell on you." 
You laugh, but it doesn't sound like he was joking. 
"What's it like?" You ask, turning to him, "Seeing the way, you see? What-what do you see?"
"Everything." Gojo shrugs. 
You frown. "That's not very descriptive." 
He laughs. "Here, wanna try?" He takes off his glasses, handing them over. "These things are real popular with the ladies." 
He's avoiding the question, but you don't bother chasing him for it. Instead, you grab the lenses, pulling them over your eyes. You expect to see the secrets of the universe. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Though, that might be the point.  
"Everything, hm?" You ask, when you take them off. "That sounds exhausting." 
He takes them back with a grin. "It is! My eyes hurt so so much! You should pity me and make matcha tiramisu." 
You laugh, drawing back. "That's what this is about? To guilt trip me into making dessert for you?" 
"Did it work?" 
You think for a moment.
"Get me the ingredients, and I'll see." 
He cheers but doesn't fully answer your question until the episode ends when you've bid him goodnight and are about to return to the bedroom. 
"You're blurry from far away." 
When you look at him, his glasses are gone, tucked under his collar. It's night, but the sky still stares down at you. His usual smile is gone, stretched into a line you can't place. 
"I can see down to molecules, atoms. Not you." 
You look at him, his eyes. The beautiful curse they are. 
You force yourself to take the first step. Then another. Then another. When you're right in front of him, when he's towering over you, you open to your mouth. 
"What do you see, Gojo?" 
"Everything." He honestly replies. 
Everything. Not just cursed energy. Down to cells, molecules, atoms. You can't fathom how much that is, the essence of everything. What's that like? Being able to see the universe so much that it hurts? So much so that it makes him want to wear a blindfold and never see anything again. 
But you're blurry. Gojo can't see you the way he sees others. 
You reach your hands up slowly like you're approaching a wild animal. In some ways, maybe that's what Gojo is: unpredictable, able to wield the power of space—power that's useless against you. 
You cover his eyes. He doesn't stop you. 
"What do you see, Satoru?" 
He doesn't speak, and you're afraid he's forgotten how. 
"Nothing." Quiet, barely more than a whisper.
He slouches ever so slightly, leaning into your hands like some weight's been lifted. It makes you smile. 
When you try to pull your hands away, his wrap around your wrist, keeping you there. So you stay—for as long as he wants. 
It starts something of a tradition between the two of you. Not every night, not even most nights, but every so often, Satoru would grow quiet, shift in a particular way. You hoped it was therapeutic for him, a break rather than a glimpse of what could have been. You hoped you were helping. 
And, if you were torturing him, hopefully, you won't be for long. 
"How much longer do you think I have to do this?" You ask. 
He hums, clearly not paying attention. You two were in the kitchen, making some sweet he saw trending on the internet. Well, you were doing all the work. Satoru kept trying to steal the batter. 
"You know. Sleeping under your roof, eating all your food, stealing you bed." You urge, while whisking. 
"You're acting like I've been keeping you in the attic, roomie." Satoru pouts. "C'mon, I haven't been that bad, have I?" 
"I'm asking for your sake rather than mine," you tell him. "I'm sure you'll be thrilled to have your house back, and your bed. When will everything settle down?" 
His blindfold is on, as it usually is. To help him out, you've taken to wearing squeaky slippers around the house. He'd offered to buy you one of those cat collars with bells. You declined. 
He's looking in your direction. You know he can't see you, but you can still feel his eyes on you. It's a strange feeling. 
"There's talks of taking down the bounty," Satoru finally says, losing his playful tone, "just rumors, nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to relocate you somewhere overseas." 
Yeah, you were worried about that. Leaving everything behind, your home, your friends, your family, because your life was in danger. You hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. 
"We have a couple of options, though," Satoru says, "negotiations, for one." 
You perk up at that. "Negotiations?" You ask. 
He nods. "Right now, you're under my protection. Unofficially. I could pull some strings, get those old geezers at the academy to take you in as some special assistant." 
You tilt your head. "Like at the school that you teach, right?" 
He nods. "We have a case like yours attending the school, too. I think you and him would get along." 
"Your ability could be pretty useful to us. You might even get out in the field every so often." Satoru continues. "A special technique like that would be wasted down here." 
Special. He's said that before. You can't remember when, but you know he's right. You're an anomaly, but you can use your abilities for good. But could you really do that? Risk your life every day? Lose pieces of yourself like that?
"I don't really feel special," you say, "I don't want to be special either." You glance at him. "Is that a bad thing?" 
Even blindfolded, somehow, his eyes find yours. 
"No," he says, no judgment in his voice, "it just makes you human." 
Relief. You can feel it sinking through your veins. Part of you feels guilty. Satoru is right; you could do a lot. But you...you don't want to end up like him. 
That makes you feel even worse, but then you catch something in his tone. 
"You sound like you're not very human," you say back. You're teasing, but it falls flat. 
He hums. It's not quite the response you were looking for. It takes a second for him to start up again. 
"When I was younger, people used to call me creepy." 
You stare at him. 
"What?." 
He grins, but it's not his usual one. 
"It's true." He shrugs. "Mostly, it was 'cause of my eyes. They called them unnerving. Monstrous. My folks were always a creative bunch." He says it so casually, but you can hear the bite on his voice. It's phrased as a joke, but it isn't.
You put down your whisk, giving him your full attention. 
"That's not true," you respond, "you know that, right? You aren't a monster. Monsters aren't as kind as you are." 
"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Maybe I'm using my kindness as a lure to trap you. Guess you just fell for it, roomie. 'thought you were smarter than that." You roll your eyes. 
"Okay, fine, I yield. You're a monster. But out of all the monsters in the world, I'd pick you." 
For a moment, there's silence in the kitchen. Then- 
"So cheesy!" Satoru laughs. He reaches over, roughly pinching your cheek. "Who knew you could say such cute things, roomie." 
You slap his hands away, now extremely annoyed. 
"Nevermind. I take it back," you retort. "I'd run away as far as I could from you." 
"Good, you should," he replies. "I won't stop you." 
You scoff. 
"Maybe that's why everyone thought you were creepy." You go back to your whisking. "It's not your eyes, you just say a lot of ominous shit." 
Despite how peaceful it is, making desert, cooking, and acting domestic, it can't last forever. The world was still hunting for you, and it had no problems reminding you of that. 
One night, you wake up to the sounds of hushed talking. 
It's coming from the living room. Multiple voices. Quiet but urgent. You're used to the noise. Satoru has this habit of blasting terrible soap operas at 2 am. You don't think that man sleeps. Over time, you've gotten used to at least one disturbance. 
But this feels different. It's enough to rub the sleep out of your eyes, making you pad over to the hall. 
They hear you before they see you. Satoru's apartment has creaky floorboards. Ijichi tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. Ieiri just looks away. Satoru is leaning back against the couch, legs crossed. He's frowning. That's how you know something isn't right. 
"Is everything okay?" You ask anyway. 
Ijichi gives a tight grin. 
"Everything's fine." He's quick to console. "We-we were just-" 
"Stop." Satoru immediately cuts in. He's wearing his blindfold. You can't tell what he's thinking. 
"We're not hiding it. Everyone involved should know." 
Ijichi deflates. You think Ieiri sneers. 
Satoru beckons you closer with long fingers. You step forward. They're sitting around a computer. You peek at the screen.
Instantly, you wish you hadn't. 
There were pictures of you. Dead. Your body parts were strewn across the floor. Your hands were broken in every other way. Your legs were in pieces. Your head snapped clean off, blood oozing from your appendages like you were just a packet of liquid. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The other was crushed. But it wasn't you, it was- 
"Miyashiro. At least, what's left of him." Satoru gives.  
The doppelganger, the guy who was covering for you. He was supposed to be one of their best; what happened to him? 
What was going to happen to you? 
They're talking again. At least, you think they are. Their words are muffled, filtered through water. You can't make out what anyone is saying. Your heart's beating too fast. It's pounding through your ears. You can only stare at the picture, what was left of him. Someone's touching you. A hand on your back. 
"Roomie, hey," Satoru's voice comes.
The pounding stops. You look up at him. 
Angelic. It's the only word you could think of. His snow-white hair was pretty, falling elegantly down his face. He'd taken his blindfold off. Blue eyes, sparkling, cleansing. Purifying, like the Ganges river. 
How could anyone think a beautiful sight like this was monstrous? 
He calls your name, your real name, and you break. 
You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. And you're sobbing, tears of everything flowing down your face. 
Hands, hesitant, unsure, rest on your back. And then Satoru's holding you as tightly as he can.
He's warm. It's all you can think as you shake in his hold. 
He's warm. 
"I won't have to worry about that if I just gave in, hm?" You ask. 
It was a couple of days later from your episode. Satoru had convinced you to give one of his soap operas a shot. On-screen, a woman slapped her cheating husband. 
Satoru was lounging beside you, feet propped up on the coffee table. You want to tell him off, but it's his house. 
"If you went to the school, you mean?" He asks. "Probably. You'd be a lot freer. Won't have to sit in a cramped apartment all day. 'sides, jujutsu tech is always on the lookout for fresh talent. The higher-ups would be ecstatic to have someone like you under their thumb." 
"But I'd have to become a sorcerer." You say the unspoken. 
Gojo nods. "Yeah, you would." 
And you don't want that. To face curses, to face death every day. You know you can't handle that. You aren't strong, like Satoru. 
"I'm sorry," you say. 
He laughs. "For what?" 
You shrug as the on-screen couple makes up again. "For being...a coward, I guess."
He thinks for a moment. 
"It's not about bravery," he says in the end, "being a sorcerer is just...that. A sorcerer. It's a job. A title. Only a special few can do it. The crazy ones." 
His tone gets a bit playful. 
"No offense, roomie, but I don't think you got enough crazy in you." 
"That's a compliment, actually." You correct. He ignores you. 
"'sides, I like you staying here." Satoru declares, stretching his arms out on the couch. "Who'd feed me? It'd be horrible to go back to ramen again." 
You roll your eyes. "Right. Who else will wake at 2 am because of your whining to make wagashi?" 
"See! You get it!" Satoru grins. You can't force the smile off your face. 
The husband's mistress has entered the set. The wife is confident that her husband will choose her. She's left heartbroken all over again. You don't get how she couldn't see it. The red flags were all there, and still, she was left blindsided. Never saw it coming. She trusts too easily, you decided. 
"Also, I like having you here," Satoru says. 
You glance at him. He's watching the screen. 
"It's...nice." He admits after a bit. "To have company like this. It reminds me of back when I was younger. When the two of us lived in the dorms." 
When he was a student? Who was he talking about? You don't pry. It's clear he isn't talking to you. 
"I'm glad you're here," Satoru says. 
Lightly, you bump shoulders with him. Infinity doesn't stop you. 
"You're a sweet monster." You tell him. 
He gives a secret grin. 
Every once in a while, Gojo peeks into the bedroom while you're sleeping. 
He's subtle about it, doesn't make too much noise. You're a light sleeper, so it takes little to nothing to wake you up. 
He doesn't do anything. He stands there, shuffles here and there, hovering by the foot of the bed. You just pretend to be asleep in those cases, evening out your breaths, closing your eyes. It's always the same. He loiters around for a minute, and then he's shutting the door behind him. 
It's strange, but you try not to think too much of it. He was probably looking for something. It's his room after all. 
It's just...strange. 
You find it when you're looking through his book shelf. 
He doesn't have anything interesting to read. It's mainly just historical novels. You're perusing through one before a photograph falls out of the pages. 
It's tiny, barely larger than your palm. It only takes a second to realize what you're looking at. 
"Found your baby pictures." You gleefully tell Satoru when he comes back. 
"What?" He tilts his head; you wave the photo in front of him. When he tries to take it, you pull back. 
"Tiny Satoru!" You squeal. "Who knew you were once so small? I always thought you were born six feet over." 
It's a simple photograph, a little aged, but still clear. Satoru looks about eight, standing between a man and a woman. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. He isn't wearing sunglasses or a blindfold. Doll-like blue eyes. You don't feel like you're looking at a child. He's too-
"Are those your parents?" You ask, letting him take the photograph from you. 
"No," he says, "my caretakers." 
Caretakers. Not nannies, or anything else. It felt so clinical. You lean against his shoulder, still staring at the photograph. 
"You look cute." You finally say. When you peak over, a hint of a smile is twitching on his face. "But I totally agree with everyone. You look creepy. Like one of those children from the exorcist. Climbing over the walls." 
"I never grew out of that phase." Satoru ponders. You laugh. 
"What was it like?" You ask. "You said you're from a clan, right?" 
"Exhausting." Satoru groans. "Never a break from training. I should go back and sue my folks for child abuse. I could get millions." 
"I could help you with that." You pipe in. "I've never gone to law school, but I feel like I'd make a great lawyer." 
"I'll keep that in mind." He promises teasingly before his smile fades. 
"But that's the norm for most kids in jujutsu." He sighs. "Gotta' be perfect. Gotta' be the best, right from the beginning. There's a student I know who had a rough start, but she's the best in her class. Her clan didn't care about her potential. Those kids are all scary talented, they just need a bit of nurturing, that's all." 
You stare at him. He catches you. 
"What?" He asks, before his eyes widen. "Do I have a pimple?" 
You shake your head. "For some reason, I feel like that's impossible for you." You tease.
"I'm just admiring you, I think. For being such a kind person." 
"I thought we agreed I was a monster." Satoru points out. 
This again. You roll your eyes. 
"Fine, a good monster." You correct. "A monster, I know." 
"The monster you know." He repeats
You want to ask him why he's so insistent on that. For some reason, you hold your voice. 
Satoru's apartment had two bathrooms. Lately, the one in the bedroom has had some issues. 
It's been awkward lately trying to share the only working bathroom. Satoru and you shower at around the same time, so you've opted to hold back your morning routine a little later. You still manage to catch each other. The amount of times you've accidentally caught him walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist would be too mortifying to admit. 
But, so far, it's working. And you can't complain since you at least have one working bathroom. It's the little things. 
Tonight, you wake up to your bladder urging you to move. And yet, your body still wants to sleep. You check the time. It's nearly 2 in the morning.
It takes a while to pull yourself up, unraveling yourself from the covers before you're trudging out the bedroom. Satoru's apartment is so dark. It's a completely different look compared to daytime. You feel your way with the walls, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. When you peek over at the living room, Satoru isn't there. He must not be coming home tonight. 
The bathroom is shut, but there's a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Fuck, you did not shut the lights off last time. You need to be less careless. 
At first, you think Satoru's hurt. 
He looks hurt. He's hunched over, shaking shoulders, harsh breathing. You can only see his back, but he looks like he's in agony. You're about to step forward, ask what happened, and then you catch a glimpse of what he's clutching. 
Pretty, blue, laced panties. 
Your panties. 
And you're close enough to hear his voice whispering your name. Over and over again. 
"Fuck, fuck, baby, need you, just lemme-just lemme, all mine, all mine-"
He doubles over, tightening his grip on the edge of the sink. Your panties are damp. 
You flinch, and in your moment of panic, you step back. Creaky floorboards. 
Satoru looks up in the mirror. You don't move. 
He takes his time. Placing his phone down. Adjusting his pants, washing his hands. You can only stand there, frozen. Staring. Staring until he's in front of you, looking right back. 
You might have forgiven him if he had fumbled, laughed it off, became bashful. A human reaction. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. His eyes mirror that photograph. Doll-like, absolutely empty. 
Monstrous. 
Your eyes water. He turns blurry for a second. 
Satoru steps aside. You wordlessly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't bother locking. 
You don't know how long you stay there, quiet, shaking, your mind trying to piece together what you just saw. You stay there for hours. You stay there for seconds. Time stretches on like infinity itself, yet even then, it's too short. 
You're alone with him. It's a thought you never even had until now. You're alone with him. 
Satoru is outside. You don't look at him, staring at the floor, looking at the carpet, counting each strand. You keep your head down when you return to the bedroom. 
He follows. You say nothing. You don't look. You don't look, even when the covers shift and he gets into bed behind you. You don't look, even when there's a hand on your shoulder. You don't look, even when there's a chest pressed against your back. 
You shiver, you shake. You don't look. He says nothing, even when you break down completely. 
You wake up alone the next morning. 
You don't waste a second. You're stumbling through the room, picking up your clothes, packing everything that you need. You're so panicked that you manage to knock over an alarm clock. 
It's habit to reach down and pick it up. Learned politeness to scrutinize it to make sure it isn't broken. 
A black dot stares back at you. 
A camera. 
Horrible memories of last night come back. He was watching something on his phone. 
You feel nauseous, about to give all over the floor. You need to go. You needed to get out of there. 
The apartment is silent, like it always is when Satoru isn't here. You just hadn't noticed how cold it was, lifeless. It makes the pit on your stomach gap. You expect the windows to be bolted shut. They aren't. Sunlight streams through the glass. The front door is unbarred too. 
It's easy to leave. 
You stop anyway. One question. 
Where would you go? 
You can't go back home. Miyashiro's body still haunts you. His soul in your body, torn apart with such hatred and vitriol. Those people were still looking for you. The only reason you were still alive was because Miyashiro took your death bed. 
You'd die if you went back home. 
You can't go to jujutsu tech. You'd be expected to lay down your life, serve a maskless force that pretended to do good. You'd certainly die. Ripped apart by curses. 
You'd be slaughtered if you went to the school.
Every route is treacherous, nearly impossible, full of dangers and unknowns. 
At least, you know what Satoru wants. 
He's made it clear since the beginning. You were just willfully ignorant. Oblivious on purpose. More than happy to ignore the red flags because you knew he was a kind person to his students, ignoring the dichotomy of his actions. 
Two things can be right at once. 
Satoru won't stop you if you run. He told you that himself. You could leave if you wanted, and he won't follow. But every other path is filled with an intangible value, and Satoru is the monster you know. 
Your hand falls away from the doorknob. 
You get started on dinner.
You're still there when Satoru comes back. You say nothing. Neither does he. Dinner is a quiet affair. He doesn't talk about his day, he doesn't talk about his students. When you wash the plates, he's quietly standing behind you. When you get out of the shower, he's waiting outside the bathroom. 
You can't bring yourself to look at him until you get into bed. Your eyes trail up, past his legs, his shoulders, his neck. Looking into Satoru's crystal blue eyes. 
Blank. Numb. Empty. 
You think of the cameras. You think of your stolen underwear. 
You think of how much his eyes must hurt right then. 
You raise one hand out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt. It's barely a tug, but the monster follows like he's weightless, crawling into bed. He's too big to hold properly, but he sinks into your body anyway. His forehead rests against your chest. His eyes close. You don't feel that ice anymore. 
“What do you see, Satoru?” 
“Nothing.” A pause. A stilted breath. 
“Nothing but you.” 
He was right in the end. Satoru is a monster. There's no other word that can describe him. Inhuman, far above humanity itself. But he's the monster you'd pick, every single time.
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paddockletters · 2 months ago
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unspoken | jude bellingham
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pairing: jude bellingham x reader  request: yes /can you please write something about the reader being from italy and finding it hard to pronounce many english word, and shes out with jude and people they’re with start making snarky comments. like they are all making fun of her accent and at first she acts like she’s fine but then jude realises she is quieter than usual and jude just comforts her pls author’s note: thank you so muchhh for the request! hope you liked it! 👀
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It was a warm evening, the kind where the air buzzed with energy, and we found ourselves sitting around a table with some of Jude’s friends, laughing and chatting over dinner. I hadn’t met all of them before, but Jude made sure I felt included, keeping me close with his arm draped casually over my chair.
The night was going well, everyone swapping stories and jokes, the conversation flowing easily—until it didn’t.
Someone cracked a joke, and I tried to jump in, tossing a comment that made sense in my head. But the words stumbled out, my accent thick on my tongue. I saw one of the girls across the table glance at her friend, stifling a laugh.
"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, her smile a little too sharp.
I repeated myself, slower this time, making sure I was saying it right. The sound of my voice, though, felt wrong—like I was standing out in a way I didn’t want to.
“That’s adorable,” one of the guys chimed in with a chuckle. “Your accent really does all the talking, doesn’t it?”
There was a round of light laughs, and I forced a smile, even though it felt like I’d been slapped.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I muttered, trying to laugh it off.
The conversation shifted, but the feeling lingered. Every time I opened my mouth after that, I could hear the way the words didn’t quite fit, like puzzle pieces forced into the wrong spots. And every once in a while, one of them would make another subtle remark, like they were amused by the way I spoke.
Jude was talking to one of his teammates, his hand still resting on the back of my chair. He hadn’t seemed to notice yet. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I played along, acting like the jokes didn’t bother me. But they did. Each one chipped away at the confidence I’d built up, leaving me quieter than usual, sinking into myself.
I stared at my glass, swirling the drink around, nodding along when I was supposed to, but feeling like I wasn’t really there.
It wasn’t until we left the restaurant, walking towards the car, that Jude seemed to pick up on it. He slid his hand into mine, glancing down at me.
“You alright, love? You’ve been quiet tonight.”
I shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t press further. “Just tired.”
He didn’t buy it. Jude stopped walking, gently pulling me aside so we weren’t within earshot of the others.
“No, something’s up. You’re not yourself.”
His eyes searched mine, concern etched on his face. It was one of the things I loved about him—how he always paid attention, even when I tried to hide things.
“It’s nothing, really. Just… they kept making fun of my accent.” I forced a smile, but my voice cracked. “It’s not a big deal.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping.
“Who?” Jude’s expression hardened.
“It’s fine, Jude. They didn’t mean it like that. It was just jokes.” I shook my head quickly.
“They upset you,” he said simply, his jaw clenched now. “That’s not okay.”
"I just… I try so hard. I know I don’t sound like everyone else, and I don’t want to embarrass you—” I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure, but the frustration bubbled up.
“You think you embarrass me?” He cut me off, his voice gentle but firm. His hands came up to cradle my face, forcing me to look at him. “Babe, you could never embarrass me. I love everything about you, including the way you speak.”
I felt my eyes sting with tears, the weight of the evening pressing down on me.
“It’s just hard. I don’t want people to think I’m stupid because I can’t say things the right way.”
Jude’s thumb brushed a tear from my cheek before it could fall.
“You’re not stupid, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. Your accent is beautiful. You don’t have to change for anyone.”
“Thank you.” I let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch.
"Next time someone makes a comment, you tell me. I don’t care if it’s a joke—they don’t get to make you feel like that.” He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.
I smiled up at him, feeling a little lighter.
“You’re not going to punch anyone, are you?”
His lips curled into a smirk. “Only if they deserve it.”
We both laughed softly, the tension melting away as we walked back to the car, hand in hand.
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moonstruckme · 4 months ago
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Hi gorgeous! I love ur writing!! Here's a lil blurb request for either Sirius or Remus! It's not smut but more like the lead up/conversation beforehand. Like May be a super inexperienced reader and she's nervous af bc she knows he has way more experience than her and she's worried about being good enough for him or worried about disappointing him and he's just so sweet and reassuring and is just happy she trusts him
Thank you for requesting my love!
cw: mature themes (and immature jokes), no smut
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 667 words
“You’re not gonna suck, baby.” Sirius is laughing at you, which isn’t really the response you were hoping for. You’re so embarrassed it’s making your palms sweat. 
“Or,” he reconsiders, “you could, of course, but there’s no pressure to.” 
You blow out a frustrated breath. “Can you please just take me…” you trail off, realizing you’re about to hand your boyfriend another joke. By the gleam in Sirius’ eyes, he realizes it too. “Can we please not joke around for a minute?” 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He smooths his face into something approaching sobriety. “We can.” 
You’re not sure how he can be so much more comfortable than you right now. Sirius is sitting across from you on the bed, criss-cross applesauce in only his boxers. You at least have on pajamas, and yet this conversation is making you feel more naked than he is. 
He asks in a gentler tone, “What is it that you’re worried about, sweetheart? We don’t have to do anything before you’re ready.” 
“It’s not that I don’t feel ready,” you sigh. “I want to, I just…I want you to like it.” 
Sirius barks out a laugh. “Well, I don’t think we’re in any danger there.” 
“You know what I mean.” You shrink away from him a bit, drawing into yourself. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want it to be disappointing.” 
“Baby. Hey.” Sirius scoots closer to you. He ducks his head, catching your gaze and holding on tight. “It doesn’t matter how much experience you have. It could never be disappointing.” 
“How do you know?” 
“Because it’s you,” he says, emphatic, like it’s obvious. “I always love being with you, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. And I know sex is going to be the same.” He leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. “Sweetheart, you could slap my ass and spit on me and I’d just be thrilled you were there.” 
You fight to keep a straight face, furrowing your brows. “So…I shouldn’t do those things?” 
“I’m actually not sure.” Sirius sits up, shrugging. “I could be into it, I’ve never tried. Point is, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t know what I want,” you tell him, though you are, admittedly, a bit less worried now. “I don’t want to just lie there, I don’t think, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.” 
“There’s nothing you’re supposed to do, babydoll.” He gives you a little smile and reaches for your hand. When you give it to him, he holds it in his lap, thumbs tracing the lines of your palm soothingly. “It’s okay not to have a plan going into things. That’s how it usually happens, no matter how many times you’ve done it. You just feel it out and go with the flow.” 
You chew your lip. Sirius is looking at you so kindly, his expression warm and open and his touch caring as he starts to draw a slow path up the inside of your wrist. You don’t want to keep arguing with him. Maybe that’s why your voice comes out so small. 
“But what if I can’t?” 
“You can.” There’s no hesitation in Sirius, no uncertainty. “You really don’t need to worry about it. Your body will react if you let it, and whatever happens, I’ll be there to talk you through it, yeah?” 
You exhale. “That actually makes me feel a lot better,” you admit. 
Sirius smiles. “I’m glad,” he says, lifting your hand to give your finger a teasing nibble. “Hey, we’re not doing this until you decide you feel like it, so don’t stress, okay? I’ll make sure you have a good time when we do.” 
Blood rushes to your cheeks. “How’re you gonna do that?” 
Your boyfriend’s eyes gleam. “You wanna find out? I can give you a preview, if you like.” 
You don’t have to answer before he’s crawling up on top of you, your giggles lost into his mouth.
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masonmontz · 6 months ago
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hellooo everyone :) hope you like it. continuation of holidays in Greece, but can be read separately :)
REMEMBER: english is not my first language
fluff and smut  word count: 3k
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“Let’s have dinner? Just both of us” Mason said to you three days later. The vacations have been great and you are totally in love with his family, all of them are treating you very well and his mom became your favorite. “I love them all, but I need silence and just your company for a few hours.”
“Your mum invited us to have dinner with them, Mase” you said, brushing your hair after your bath. You spent the morning at the beach and after lunch you spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool. Your arms were hurting from holding the children for so long and throwing them into the air while they were in the water. 
Greece is stunning. You had never been to such a beautiful place, you had never seen such an incredible sky and sea and every day you thanked Mason for taking you. You spent the days watching the sunset holding each other and it was very romantic until Mason made some sexual jokes. 
Mason was lying in bed after a long shower, dressed only in swim shorts. You could see his skin is a little red from days in the sun, even though he has applied sunscreen several times. You, on the other hand, were very tanned and Mason was loving seeing the bikini line on your body. 
“Please, babe, let’s go out with me tonight?” He asked again and you looked at him. He had a lazy smile on his lips and he was lying in the middle of several pillows, everything seemed comfortable and you just wanted to lie next to him for hours without moving. “Tomorrow then? That face of yours tells me there's something more interesting to do.”
“Mase, behave yourself, your family is at home.” You told him and he sighed, thinking about how to change your mind. Yes, you had some fun the first night but after feeling embarrassed at the first breakfast with his family, you decided to take a break from Mason.
And he's crawling for you now.
“I promise I’ll be quiet.” He got up and walked towards you, hugging you from behind and making you stop brushing your hair. He left a few kisses on your bare shoulder because of your strapless blouse and held you against him. You felt his body warm against yours. 
“No. Stop it. We’re not doing anything tonight.” 
“Tomorrow?”
“No, neither.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” He whined and you smiled, watching him rest his chin on your shoulder and stare at the two of you in the mirror. “You’re torturing me. You’ve been walking around in a bikini and short clothes all day and barely gives me a kiss.”
“Don't keep whining.”
“You’re evil, woman.” You laughed at him. “What about let them go out for dinner and we can enjoy this big bathtub again? And the best thing is that we can leave the curtains open.”
“Don't even try, we're going to have dinner with them.” Mason finally accepted and let you go, going back to bed while you finished putting on your makeup. There's a knock on the door and Mason tells to come in, then you see two little girls running across the room to the bed, throwing themselves at Mason. 
“Oh my God, Y/N, look, we have two princesses in the room.” You heard them laughing with him and turned to look at the two of them with a crown on their heads. “I think we lost Poppy and Summer, maybe that's Elsa and Anna.”
“No, uncle Masey, it's me and Poppy.” Summer told him and took off the crown, wanting to show her uncle that she was still her.
“You're right, you're still my girls.” He held them both and twirled them around the room, making them laugh. 
“I think you look beautiful, look at these crowns.” You said and smiled, seeing how happy they were with the compliment.
“Are you ready for dinner?” Mason asked and sat on the bed.
“Yes, nanna asked us to call you and auntie Y/N.” Poppy said and held Summer’s hand, both looking at you and Mason. 
“Girls, we'll go downstairs soon, okay? Tell nanna to wait a few minutes.” As soon as they left, Mason closed the bedroom door again and looked at you. “You're going to leave me with nothing, right?”
“It will just be the two of us in Italy, handsome.” 
“Okay, I'm going to change.” 
You decided to wear a short blue dress, matching Mason who wore a blue shirt of the same tone. 
“Wow, look at you.” You saw him blush when you praised him. “You're so gorgeous, I’m so lucky.”
“Stop making me embarrassed. I'm the lucky one, actually.”
He walked up to you and hugged you, then you brought your arms to his neck, leaving a kiss on his lips. You caressed the back of his neck and he got goosebumps, so you decided it was time to go downstairs.
Dinner was great, in a restaurant overlooking the city lights. You had a great time and were happy to have fit in with Mason's family the same way he fit in with your family. Mason had won your father over to Manchester United, giving tickets and shirts signed by other players. Mason was his favorite person.
You and Mason ordered the same pasta for dinner, and before you noticed, you had already had three glasses of wine while talking to them. Mason smiled at you as you were speaking slowly from the drink, and held your hand on the way home so you wouldn't trip.
“Three glasses of wine, right? Maybe you want a bath now?” Mason smiled mischievously at you. “I will help you.”
“Mason, we're not having sex.” You spoke louder than you should have, but sighed in relief when you saw that the others were further ahead. Mason agreed and you continued walking as you watched the beautiful street to the house.
“Auntie Y/N, can we sleep over with you and Uncle Mason tonight?” Poppy asked as soon as you arrived home, and Summer agreed with her, wanting to sleep with her auntie and uncle too. Mason had a desperate look on his face when he heard the ask, but how could you say no to those two pretty faces?
“Why not? Uncle Mason will love it.” Everyone laughed when they looked at Mason and saw his face. He loved his nieces more than anything, but a night's sleep was essential to him. “Harley, do you want to sleep with us too?”
“No, I'm going to sleep alone. Poppy kicks a lot at night.” 
“Oh, nice.” Mason said ironically, but smiling.
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“I feel like I slept with MMA fighters.” Mason complained during the morning, after being kicked several times by his nieces during the night. You got kicked so many times that you decided sleeping on the couch was better, so in the middle of the night you went down to the living room and slept alone. And Mason also complained that it was weird to sleep without holding you. “Look, a bruise on my arm.”
“Stop complaining, Mason.” Debbie scolded him. 
“Now you know why I always have dark circles under my eyes.” Jaz said and Stacey agreed with her. 
“Maybe we can go to a party tonight? The kids can stay with grandma and grandpa.” Lewis came up with the idea and you can't help but think it would be cool.
“Y/N and I are going to dinner tonight. Alone.” It didn't take long for you to disagree with Mason.
“But after dinner we'll go to the party with you, it's a great idea, actually.” Mason looked like he wanted to kill you, but you know he just wanted to be alone with you and try to make out with you. 
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Why did you agree to this party? I mean, we could make out in the middle of this place and no one would see us.”
“Stop being a pervert.” Mason ran his hand down your legs as you walked to the place Lewis mentioned.
“I can't help it, you look so hot in that dress.” You put on the dress that was Mason's favorite, a tight and short black dress that left your curves showing. You put your hair in a ponytail and put on light makeup, the sunny days left you blushing and Mason was in love with the sight of you. You also put on heels, also Mason's favorite.
Mason, on the other hand, was wearing an open black shirt, shorts and sneakers. He put on the necklace with your initial and was wearing sunglasses. You've never seen him as hot as he was tonight. You couldn't stop staring at him and he had noticed, so he took advantage of the situation and occasionally smiled at you, ran his hand over your body or whispered in your ear, making you shiver. 
He knows exactly how to tease you. 
The place was crowded and it took you a while to find his family. You saw Lewis and Jaz dancing while the others sat talking. They waved when they saw you and Mason arriving and were soon offered some drinks for the two of you. 
Mason was responsible and didn't drink too much when you were drinking, just in case he needed to take care of you, but that night you told him to allow himself, because you were with his family and nothing could go wrong, so when you noticed, you and Mason had already drunk a little and were dancing together in the middle of the dance floor.
After a while Mason got tired and you continued dancing with his sisters, sometimes you stared at him and ran your hands over your body, teasing him who was sitting between his brother and brothers-in-law. Mason looked at you with desire and you felt your body heat up, knowing you couldn't last long without feeling him all over your body.
For your relief and safety, around 2 am Stacey announced that she was tired and everyone decided to leave, so you and Mason walked side by side down the street to the house. Mason was hugging your shoulders and you were holding him by the waist, leaning on him as you walked.
Everyone went to their rooms when you arrived and you and Mason decided to stay outside a little longer, enjoying the pleasant evening. Mason laid down on a lounge chair and pulled you against him, making you lay on top of him as he held you.
“Shall we go into the pool?” 
“Now?”
“It's hot and the water is nice, let's enjoy some time alone.” You got off of Mason and he sat up, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He left his glasses aside and stood up, taking off his shirt completely, then taking off his sneakers and shorts. “Come on, come in with me.”
“No, I can't be naked, someone might come down and see us.” 
“Babe, please, no one will see us, okay? Let's stay in the furthest part of the pool.” Mason approached and pulled down your dress, leaving you in just your panties, so you quickly hurried and took off your heels. “Look at you, girl.”
Before Mason noticed, you ran and jumped into the pool, hearing his laughter in the background. While you were laughing, he also ran and jumped into the pool with you, spilling water everywhere. 
Mason pulled you against him, still smiling, admiring you so close to him. You hugged him and you spent a few seconds enjoying the pool water until Mason started running his hands over your body. You wrapped your legs around his hips and let him press you against him. 
“Mase, please, everyone is home.” He pushed his hips against yours, making you gasp when you felt the volume. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Cause I can't take another minute away from my girl, I want to feel her and make her feel so good.” 
“What am I going to do with you, Mason Mount?”
“You can start by giving me a kiss.”
Mason kissed you and took you to the farthest part of the pool, so if anyone came down, they wouldn't see you two. You kissed his neck and pulled his hair, hearing him moan against your mouth. 
Mason put his hand between your legs and pressed your clit, and you couldn't hold back a moan, ‘cause Mason always made you feel good.
“You like that, don't you?” Mason lowered his head a little and took your nipple into his mouth, licking and biting lightly. He continued with his thumb on your clit and you were already moving to ride his fingers. “Are you wet for me, love?” 
“Yes, Mason, please, I want more.” 
“See? This is so good, I don't know why you were avoiding me.” He licks your neck. “I wanna make you feel so good.” 
Your tummy was doing somersaults as he licked and touched you, you could feel him all over your body but it wasn’t enough, so you moved your hand to his cock, hard and ready to fuck you. 
Mason took your hand off his dick and pressed you to the edge of the pool, fitting himself between your legs and making you feel his hard cock on your pussy, making the moves to turn you on. You closed your eyes and let your head fall on Mason's shoulders as he touched you, the wind made you shiver and your nipples hardened.
“Fuck” Mason whispered when he felt your nipples against his chest. Mason held you and pushed you out the pool, so you sat on the edge while he stayed in the water. “Right where I want you.” 
“Please, Mase.” 
Mason took off your underwear and left you naked on the edge of the pool, so in a few seconds he already had his tongue on your clitoris.
“Oh my God” you cried and felt his tongue in the right place, your body melting with his tongue slowly sliding over your clit and you couldn’t hide how good it was. 
Alternating between long licks and quick movements, back and forth, he drags his tongue between your slick folds and you can't stop moaning and murmuring, and he knows exactly where to touch or use his tongue, knowing your body well.
"Yeah, keep doing that, Mase.” Loud and desperate moans came out of your mouth, Mason was getting harder and harder in his underwear and he took one hand to his cock, squeezing it with his hand. 
“You wanna cum in my tongue?” Mason inserted a finger into you, making you whimper with excitement. “Cum for me, yeah?” 
“I’m so close, this is so good.” You held Mason's hair and rolled against his mouth, pressing your pussy against his tongue. “Oh-”. 
Mason sucked you and licked you all over while you came in his mouth, he moaned as you lay on the floor, just feeling the orgasm through your body. If you weren't lying on the floor, you would have fallen.
“Look at you, so beautiful after cum in mouth.” Mason left kisses on your thigh. “Let me fuck you, please?” 
“Yes.” 
“Right.” Mason got out of the pool and helped you get up, walking over to a lounger and laying you down on it. “Lay down for me, love.” You did as he asked and soon Mason climbed onto the lounger too. “Wow, look at this pussy glistening at me.”
Mason pumped himself a couple of times before penetrating you. He groaned when he felt you around him, tight and warm. He held your legs around his hips as he bent down to kiss you, Mason closed his eyes and laid his head in the crook of your neck, lightly biting the skin as he fucked you.
“Oh, my- fuck, Y/N, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” You dug your nails into his back and he groaned, but you put your hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make a noise and wake someone up. 
“Be quiet.” You warned him.
“I can’t.” Mason kissed you again, a lazy kiss as his hips sped up against you. “I love you. I love you so much.” Mason whispered in your ear and you moaned, putting your hand over your mouth after the loud noise.
“I love you too.” 
“Cum for me once again?” You both let out grunts and he continues to thrust into you. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, Mase.” Mason became desperate and you almost screamed as you once again felt the orgasm throughout your body, you felt Mason tremble on top of you as you felt him spurt inside you. “Oh, fuck.”
“Oh my God.” Mason groaned. You giggled as Mason fell on top of you, stroking his hair. “Seriously, it's the best feeling in the world.”
You spent a few minutes lying in silence, just listening to each other's breathing.
“Put on my shirt, let's go up quickly so no one sees us.” Mason got up and put on his underwear, taking the shirt he was wearing at the party and handing it to you to wear. He picked up your dress and heels from the floor, carrying them for you. He held out his hand and you took it, then the two of you walked up the stairs while laughing softly.
“We look like teenagers.” You said and hugged him when he closed the bedroom door.
“I don't care, I just want to be with you.”
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hoesluvjude · 1 month ago
Text
Future Plans || jude bellingham
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Word count : 1k
Genre: fluff
Author's note:Enjoy;)
Masterlist
The couch was soft, the room dimly lit. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, a testament to the candle Jude had lit earlier. You’d spent the better part of the evening watching an old movie, but now, the TV was off, and the room was silent save for the occasional hum of traffic outside.
Jude was sprawled out comfortably, his legs stretched across the couch. You were draped over him, your head tucked under his chin, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms were wrapped around you, one hand lazily tracing circles on your back while the other rested on your hip. He always had this way of holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
"You know," Jude began, a teasing edge in his voice, "I was thinking we should have ten kids."
You burst out laughing, the sound filling the quiet room. “Ten? Are you out of your mind?”
He grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Why not? Think about it—a whole football team! We could have family tournaments. And maybe an extra kid for the bench, just in case.”
You pushed yourself up slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “Jude, do you have any idea how much chaos ten kids would be? The noise? The mess? The grocery bill?”
He chuckled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Okay, fine. Maybe not ten,” he said, but there was something in his tone that made you squint suspiciously at him.
“Wait,” you said slowly, “you’re not entirely joking, are you?”
Jude’s grin softened into something more thoughtful, and he shrugged, looking almost bashful. “Not really,” he admitted. “I mean, maybe not ten, but… I do love the idea of a big family. Coming home to a house full of laughter and love. Watching them grow up together, always having each other to lean on.”
You smiled at the thought, imagining a little one with Jude’s warm eyes and infectious smile. “They’d be lucky to have you as a dad,” you said softly.
He tilted your chin up with gentle fingers, his eyes locking onto yours. “And they’d be lucky to have you as a mom,” he said, his voice filled with so much conviction that it made your throat tighten.
He smiled at you, a little shy, and then tilted his head. “Okay, so maybe ten is a bit much. What about you? How many kids do you want?”
You leaned back against his chest, pretending to think. “Hmm… Two feels like a good number. But four could be fun, too. A nice mix of boys and girls, maybe.”
“Two or four?” Jude repeated, his hand resuming its gentle pattern on your back. “Okay, I could get on board with that. Two feels manageable, but four does sound kind of perfect, doesn’t it? A little pack of chaos, just enough to keep things exciting.”
You smiled at the thought, imagining a lively home filled with tiny feet running through the halls. “Yeah,” you said. “Two or four feels right. But let’s not lock anything in yet. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”
Jude nodded, his expression softening as he gazed at you. “We’ll figure it all out together,” he said.
You fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that only happens when you’re with someone who feels like home. You could feel Jude’s chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady rhythm soothing in a way you couldn’t quite describe.
“So,” Jude said after a moment, his voice teasing again, “what do you think about matching family pajamas for the holidays? Too much?”
“Way too much,” you said, laughing. But even as you teased him, you couldn’t help but picture it—a future filled with warmth and love and the kind of moments you cherish forever.
“You know,” Jude said eventually, a playful lilt returning to his voice, “we could always practice.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “You’re incorrigible.”
He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “And yet, you’re still here.”
“Yeah,” you said, your voice softening. “I am.”
Jude’s expression turned tender again, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always want to be.”
You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in, and snuggled closer to him. In that moment, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Our future might still be unwritten, but with Jude by your side, you knew it was going to be beautiful.
“Do you think we’ll ever get tired of this?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.
Jude chuckled, a soft, musical sound that made your heart flutter. “Tired of what? You using me as your personal pillow?”
You pinched his side lightly, and he let out a playful yelp. “I meant us, silly. Being like this. Together.”
His hand paused on your back for a moment, and then he tightened his hold on you, pulling you impossibly closer. “Never,” he said firmly. “I could spend forever like this and still not have enough of you.”
You tilted your head up to look at him, and your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you—like you were his entire world—was enough to make your heart feel like it was going to burst. His eyes were soft and warm, his lips curved into a small, boyish smile.
“Forever, huh?” you teased, though your voice was soft, your own smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
He nodded, his expression turning serious. “Yeah, forever. And after that, if I can.”
“What about marriage?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I think about it all the time,” he admitted. “Waking up next to you every day, calling you my wife, knowing that you’re mine and I’m yours forever. It’s... it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, and you buried your face in his chest to hide your smile. “You’re such a sap,” you teased, though your voice was thick with emotion.
He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you. “You love it,” he said confidently, and he wasn’t wrong.
You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. You could feel his fingers start tracing patterns again, this time on your arm, and it made you shiver in the best way.
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bittersw33t-lotus · 1 month ago
Text
Little Life
Ghosting Series pt. 3
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader
Cw: pregnancy stuff, reader is female, cursing (let me know I I missed anything)
A/N: sorry if this is very short the chapters may be pretty short just so my motivation to keep writing can stay.
Part 2 here
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“Alright hon, if you can lay on the bed and lift you shirt over you belly please.” Dr. Raven says, the woman pointing to the dull looking patient bed with thin paper lining fitted over the top.
You follow her words and sit down on the bed, the cushion was surprisingly comfortable to sit on. You bring your shirt up over your stomach stopping at your rib cage and lay back waiting for Raven to prepare for the scanning. You watch as she brings out a plastic bottle you assumed was the gel, as she opened the plastic cap as she looks at you. “Okay, I’m going to put this on your abdomen. Be prepared, this will be cold.” She says as she squeezes the bottle over your stomach, the bright translucent blue gel slithers out the opening and trails down towards your stomach.
The moment it makes contact with your skin, your stomach retracted back at the cold viscous material. You shudder a breath and laugh a bit. “You weren’t lying.” You joked as Raven smiled and chucked at your response.
“Always takes them by surprise.” She says before she finishes squeezing the bottle, pulling it away and closing the cap back on. Placing it down on the table beside her she grabs the transducer clicking a few buttons and the screen turns on. She places the nub against your abdomen and spread the gel around your stomach and looks at the screen seeing the scan coming through as she adjusts it to hover where your uterus is.
You watch the screen feeling a bit anxious as you watch trying to figure out exactly what you were seeing, after a couple seconds you soon immediately spot a little white blob. A baby.
“There it is. Your baby.” She tells you as you stare at the screen in awe. That’s really inside you. Your baby slowly growing by the second, yours and Simon’s baby.
“So tiny.” You say as Dr. Raven nods to your words.
“You’re only eight weeks currently, it looks like you and the baby are doing just fine so far, baby is healthy and growing, overall you’re both doing great. I’ll provide you with some prenatal vitamins for you to take. I did notice in your readings, your blood pressure is a bit high than we’d like it to be so I need you to make sure you’re not overworking yourself, do more things to keep you calm and not focus and do things that cause you such distress if that’s possible. Other than that, you’re all set and good to go. Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Raven says as she takes a few pictures of the scan to print out for you.
You breathe out in relief, the baby is all good. You figured the high blood pressure was definitely caused by the whole situation with Simon so you don’t know how you can make yourself forget about it, on top of that you’ve also been worried about finding a place to live and trying to figure out your financial situation now with Simon out of the picture. You take a deep breath and nod at Dr. Ravens advice. “I’ll be sure not to.” You tell her with a small smile as she hands you a paper towel to wipe off the gel, which you take.
“Would you be comfortable with telling me about the cause for your mental or physical wellbeing may be? Anything that maybe I could help you with if possible.” She asks you; you can spot the concern in her eyes when she brings it up.
You shake your head and ignore the feeling you felt as she brings it up but regardless you smile and shake your head. “Just trying to deal with not having the father in the picture. He decided he didn't want to be around." You tell her as she nods, understanding your words.
"I'm sorry to hear that." She tells you as you simply shrug your shoulders pulling you shirt back down.
"it's fine, think we'll be better off without him anyways.” You tell her. It's true, to an extent, at least that’s what keep telling yourself. You know you can do this all on your own. It won't be easy, but you hope you can manage. But deep down, you know you'll never be okay not having him by your side. He’ll miss out on so much, like watching your baby grow, learning and growing along with the baby as that baby also learns from you. You both won’t grow old together like you both wanted, with a bunch of animals, but with the baby included, maybe one or two more if things had worked out in the end.
You finish up the remaining paper work you had to sign and received your vitamins. Dr. Raven hands the ultrasound pictures to you in a white envelope and you make your way back to the lobby where Jared waited, still sitting and reading the pamphlets. He looks up as he notices you approaching and smiles as he stands up. “How’d it go?” He asks you.
You hold up the envelope with a smile. “It was great, got to see the baby, doctor said that they’re healthy and everything looks good thankfully. Just have to focus on not stressing myself out so much.” You tell him as you both make your way out of the building and into the parking lot.
“That’s great to hear. I’m sure Stacy already told you but she has a surprise in stock for you but she’s wondering if you have anything nice to wear.” He asks you as you approach the car.
Opening the car door you think for a minute before you nodded. “Yeah, I should.” You tell him. You’re sure you can find something. You took everything with you when you left Simon’s place, all your things are still in boxes save for the necessities that you need, but you’re sure you can find something.
On the drive back you spent the entire car ride back home staring and looking at the ultrasound picture, the little blob that you still couldn’t grasp was your baby, just still needed some more months to grow before you can meet them and that made you anxious. You don’t think you could wait that long.
“What’re you hoping for?” Jared asks you, steering the wheel as he switches to the next lane, glancing at the photos in your hand.
You think about it for a moment, it hasn’t crossed your mind surprisingly. Either one would be great, there was a moment where you dreamt of having a baby girl with Simon. You can’t lie, the sight of Simon being a girl dad made you all giddy and warm. Then thinking about a little boy, one that looked like a copy and paste of Simon would be so cute. You smile as the possibilities ran through your head, of course you’re just being delusional, you wouldn’t be able to see that happen ever. Just a thought in the back of your mind.
“Honestly either would be great. I don’t mind what I have, as long as the baby is healthy that’s enough for me.” You say tucking the photos into your purse, holding it close to you.
Jared smiled and nodded. “Sounds great, you’ll make a great mother. I’m sure of it.” He says to you as you smile, the reassurance from Jared was something you didn’t know you needed but greatly appreciated.
“Thanks.” You say to him, before you know it you’ve finally made it back home.
Once you arrived home you got out the car and walked into the house. Right away Stacy approached you with a smile.
“How’d it go?” She asks you as she gets up from the soft couch and walking over towards you and Jared.
You pull out the envelope and pull out the multiple pictures and hand them out for her. Upon seeing them she awe’s as she examined the little bean like fetus. “Little baby.” She coos before looking at you. “How far along are you?” She asks you.
“Eight weeks. I’ll be able to see the baby’s gender by fourteen weeks.” You tell her as she hands back the photos to you. Placing them in you bag you can see Stacy smile as she walks towards the island counter of in the kitchen. “Oh, what was that surprise you had in store?” You ask her.
She props herself up on the counter with her elbows and looks at the time. “We decided to treat you to dinner tonight. We have a reservation set for six tonight. You feeling up for it?” She asks you.
You take a moment to think and nod your head a bit excited to hear you’ll be eating at a restaurant feeling your hormones go crazed at the thought of food. “Yeah, I’ll get ready now.” You tell her with a wide smile. You haven’t eaten out at a restaurant in a long time. Last time you went was with Simon for the last anniversary together.
Making your way to your ‘room’ you take out a box with your fancier clothes. Opening the box you pull out multiple tops, bottoms, and dresses. Finally choosing one you like you slip the dress on and admire yourself in the mirror. You bump is bulging out a bit, you take the time to admire it.
You took the time to shower, do your make up and get dressed right on time. Stacy looked at your outfit as you did a 360 showing off your outfit. “You’re not even half way into pregnancy and already look like a milf.” Stacy jokes, you laugh as you grab your purse.
“Don’t tell me lies Stace.” You tell her as she shrugs her shoulder.
“I only tell the truth.” She says as you both walk out the door and towards the already running car where Jared sat in waiting for you two.
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“Fuckin’ hell.”
A click from the lock sounds from the front door as it swings open. Simon’s bulking frame walks through the door as he scans the house. It’s dark and eerily silent.
When Simon came back, he felt like shit. His heart dreaded coming home to see your answer. He hoped you stayed, at least long enough till he came back, he planned to move out the house and leave it for you if you decided to keep the baby. It would give him a peace of mind to know where you were and know that you and the kid were safe, and you could use the extra room and space for the baby. But, even if you got rid of it, he doesn’t know if your relationship could ever be the same.
However your answer was first made clear when your car not in the drive way. His heart dropped but he took a deep breath, ‘Maybe she’s at the store.’ He thought. He hadn’t texted you either to let him know he was coming home today, he couldn’t bring himself too.
You’re not here. It’s something Simon suspected but he still feels dread overcome him as he steps into the house and notices the little things around the house that belonged to you were gone. Your shoes were gone, your car keys, the blanket you left on the couch is gone. He walks into your shared bedroom, which is now his bedroom, opening the door and he’s stunned with how much of an eye sore it is. His room is so plain now, like how it looked before you moved in with him.
He remembers how much you wanted to decorate the place, especially the bedroom, you hated how lifeless the whole house looked. It didn’t take much to convince him to let you decorate saying , “Go crazy.” And you did. Literally. You decorated adding a touch of you but keeping it to an extent to not overwhelm Simon. You hung up a few decorations and posters in the bed room of bands you and Simon both loved. A few shelves displaying your books and trinkets. Your touch added to his home making it more like home for him. Like you were his home. He liked, loved it if he dare say, he worried you would over do the place but it look perfect. Like you.
But now as he looked around the house, he sees the walls are bare and plain. He feels plain now, empty. Sad. He looks through your closet and drawers only to find them completely bare and empty.
He walks into the living room notices your shoes are gonna as well from the rack, and the little table beside the front door, he noticed the white folded paper on the little ceramic plate that held their keys, walking over he pick up the paper seeing his name written on it in your hand writing, unfolding it reveals page with your writing inked into the material.
‘I know we made a promise but this is something that takes two to do, accidents happen and I know you never wanted children and you knew it was still on the table for me, I’m thankful that you gave me a choice, even if it wasn’t easy. I don’t want to drag you into something you never wanted but it still hurts that I have to chose between you and this baby. I figured it was best for the both of us if I left, you can keep your home and I can keep my baby. I hope you stay safe out there Simon and please take care of yourself. I still and always will love you and I’m sorry.’ Simon checked the back of the paper for anything else but it was empty. You didn’t say where or what you were going to do and it scared Simon. Were you safe, do you have a place to stay, do you have people to help?
He knew you weren’t really in any contact with your family, your only friends were Johnny, Gaz, and Price. His ‘friends’ were yours. For the most part Simon knew you didn’t have anyone to help you or look after you and the baby. “Fuck!”
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Taglist <3
@wise-owl @sandyseagullsip @mileyraes @nicolebarnes @nikkyevansdochen22 @mattmurdock-wife24 @demonking-69 @mooievis @lunamoonbby @cherrycosmos392 @eevee-of-eternity @makimamybelovedwife @venavanup @amberpanda99 @simplyymee98 @callmeluno @stormy-stardust @ssc7514 @badbitchthings @moldypeaching @asteria33 @going-through-shit @blarba-girl @leonsgirlie @andoraamore @nobodycanknoww @thegreyjoyed @natashamea18 @kylies-love-letter @blackhawkfanatic @leehoonii-i @xenop0p @sh1ga-to3s
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shirefantasies · 1 year ago
Note
Can I please request a preference thing with how the fellowship (maybe plus eomer, Arwen, eowyn and Haldir if you also write for them) react to a person they have a crush on who is physically affectionate with their friends.
The person holds their hand, puts their head on their shoulder, plays with their hair, cuddles etc.
Oh heck yessss! I do plan on writing for them too so here’s a good start 🥰 hope you enjoy this! Also, cut because loooong post 😉
LoTR Characters When You’re Naturally Physically Affectionate
Aragorn
✧ Is kind of surprised but also plays it off??? Like he doesn’t want to get his hopes up and assume anything wrong at least at first.
✧ Initiates back but in really soft ways, like tugging your blankets up higher about you when he sees you’ve fallen asleep at night.
✧ Smiles privately to himself on a later evening when you fall asleep at his side, head snug against his shoulder. The fact that you trust him so well is something he truly hopes to be worthy of, just like the glowing feeling in his heart.
✧ One day you straight-up just slide the ring of Barahir off his hand to try it on yourself, not fully aware of its significance. You mean it no harm and do even less, and something about the gesture touches Aragorn so all he does is smile and shake his head, asking if it fits.
✧ You soften him so much, so much you can see it in his eyes and his actions. When you brush some of his hair back out of his face, he kisses your hands lightly, eyes searching yours.
Legolas
✧ Kind of in a state of perpetual surprised pikachu around you tbh
✧ Like sure, his best friends don’t come from the same culture so he sees enough of that, but they aren’t usually very affectionate with him in that way so you casually sliding a hand over his shoulders to get something behind him has him flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.
✧ Finds himself mirroring your actions a bit in his own way; he pulls you back from harm by your waist or elbow, holding on just a bit longer than he absolutely needs to.
✧ His eyes widen when you tell him his hair is beautiful and ask to braid it, but he accepts because what harm can it do? You tell him you’re doing a French braid and he’s relishing your touch, asking you to explain what that is.
✧ Smooth prince pulls the ‘your hands are cold’ on you to flip the script and let you know the affection is reciprocated, cradling your hands so gently in his own.
Boromir
✧ Is surprised by your forwardness, but in the most pleasant way. He loves someone who comes across so warm and hearty!
✧ The first time you clap a hand to his shoulder after a good fight, he mirrors the gesture immediately with a great warrior’s camaraderie without realizing anything.
✧ Goes from surprised to grinning when you offer to braid some hair out of his face for him. Milks the crap out of it, tilting so he can feel your touch as much as possible!
✧ Has no qualms about holding your arm or hand to walk together since you don’t, always offering it like a gentleman.
✧ Holds you back from danger firmly, keeping his grip as he whispers to you to stay back, care for you burning fiercely in his eyes. When you’re safe from harm, he finally voices how much you mean to him.
Gimli
✧ His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline when you first get comfortable enough to act that way, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love it!
✧ Dwarves are arguably the most physical race, so the fact that you express yourself this way is only the most pleasant of shocks.
✧ You find yourself playing with his hair one day and he stiffens, reminding himself over and over again as you begin twisting it into braids that unfortunately the significance is not the same for you as it is him. Maybe one day…
✧ Loves that you grab his arm when you laugh and elbow him playfully; begins doing the same right back and telling more jokes as an excuse for you both to do it more!
✧ Because you tend to lean on him in conversation or when you’re tired, Gimli sort of develops this habit of affectionate mini-headbutts like a cat. Your forehead? Softly bonked often by your favorite dwarf but only when his helmet is off of course 😌
Frodo
✧ It’s not a culture shock for him, so it’s not a source of confusion but it does have him overthinking because are you just doing it as intimate friends or…?
✧ Basically short-circuits for a second the first time you take his hand, sliding his palm against yours to compare the sizes of them; his eyes widen, but a smile gradually forms upon his face at the warm contact.
✧ Adores the way you sit close to him to read together or tell stories, your arms flush together as you share warmth- it’s like a little piece of home.
✧ Doubly so when you see the toll the ring takes on him and run a soothing hand up and down his back- he could practically tear up from gratitude and the way his heart explodes for you.
✧ You kissed him on the cheek once when he gifted you a sketch he knew you’d like and that feeling joins the imaginations and memories swirling through his head before sleep or when he loses sight of all the world’s blessings beneath the ring’s voice. He wonders if you know what a treasure you are- perhaps he’ll tell you tomorrow.
Sam
✧ What are you trying to do, kill him? JK mostly but man will be blushing constantly around someone like you!
✧ Leans into your touch so hard when you play with his hair, softly brushing leaves and tangled alike from the curls unabashedly like a sweet puppy.
✧ But also? Sam isn’t afraid to gently ask for what he wants from time to time? “Oh, um, I was wondering…got a real bad knot here and I just wanted to see if you were up to one of your famous massages?”
✧ You took his hand once to lead him off to look at some gorgeous flowers he could identify, so Sam finds himself plucking up the courage to take yours after a fight once, swearing he means to his best to protect you.
✧ Wraps his extra blanket around you so gently, smiling as your hands brush his to accept the new warmth about your shoulders, lingering over them for a moment.
Merry
✧ He’s a bit of a physical person too and teasing to boot so you two quickly become two peas in a pod!
✧ Both of you will teasingly sling arms around the other’s shoulders as you joke around or have mock conferences.
✧ Footsie at campfire time. Gimli complains about it a little because something about thinking you’re going to make him spill his soup or whatever, but you two barely pay attention when all your focus is on your childish little nudging game!
✧ Every now and again he just gets the widest smile at your antics, though, grinning as you sit with your arm in his or a hand resting upon his back.
✧ Will straight-up tell you you’re being adorable, then skip off smirking when he’s finally gotten you to be a bit flustered! You can’t even come up with a comeback to that for once…but maybe a confession? Big brain Merry wbk 👀
Pippin
✧ He’s in heaven, actually. Physical affection is his favorite and the one thing that ever stops him is being unsure if the other party will be uncomfortable. But you clearly aren’t, so game on 😎
✧ You got something out of his hair then ended up playing with his curls for a bit, brushing them back into place and arranging them, so he ups that by brushing some out of your face the next chance he gets, eyes never leaving yours.
✧ Since Pippin loves to sing and dance, he’s always pulling you to your feet to join him. But it doesn’t stop there of course as he holds your hand or waist depending on how open of a twirl the song entails!
✧ You two never sit up straight- someone’s head is always on the other’s shoulder or if you’re both feeling the lean, your heads are resting gently against each other, holding each other up.
✧ When he worries, you lay your hand over his and that’s it for him. He knows he’s lost, not even caring if you see how much love is in his eyes as he looks at you, especially when you gently squeeze it.
Eomer
✧ Unlearning his toxic masculinity a bit, so he is hesitant to initiate back at first, but as time goes on he can’t help questioning if there truly is more to your intentions…
✧ You tease him a lot, trying to get him to drop the serious facade, so putting your hands on his shoulders and making eye contact for mocking pep talks just has him chuckling and shaking his head at you.
✧ But when you wordlessly begin massaging his shoulders after a long day of training, hands kneading out tension in the most wondrous of ways, that has him flushing and trying to glance back at your expression without you noticing, hoping he can read something, anything.
✧ Eomer loves the way you push him when you laugh, hands against his chest or arm as you fall upon him in mirth. And if his arm ends up around you during that process? Oh well 😏
✧ Gets highkey jealous if he sees you being affectionate with anyone else, pouting because he thought he was special 🥺…but only for a moment before he’s marching over there to tell you how he feels once and for all, confessing his desire to be the one receiving most of your affection!
Haldir
✧ It definitely takes him some getting used to because he is a more reserved person and physical affection is a bit less common in elf culture…we’ve seen how surprised he is about hugs after all 😉
✧ Makes it his personal mission not to jump whenever your habit of tapping his shoulder to get attention comes into play, trying to stay stock-still and cool as a cucumber, but he can’t help feeling the corners of his mouth tug up at your giggle when he fails.
✧ Loses his absolute mind the day you gently run your fingers up his arm to get your attention, like it can’t escape your notice how he tenses, can it?
✧ Haldir expresses himself more with his words than with physical action. Every time you go out he makes sure you’re properly armed or dressed for the weather, and he always sharpens your sword himself, no one else is allowed to do it.
✧ Your actions are definitely a prompt to confess for him, like he would have sat on his feelings for quite some time but in the end he can’t help coming up to you to question your behavior and if it has any of the intent he dearly hopes it does!
Eowyn
✧ She isn’t used to this given her upbringing, but in all honesty it’s refreshing and she enjoys the feeling of love and comfort it brings.
✧ You see her looking worried and squeeze her shoulder, pulling her into your arms when she turns around. You can just feel her exhale, tension melting from her body.
✧ It quickly becomes you two’s ‘thing’ to link arms and you almost always walk together like that, screw whatever Grima has to say about it he won’t be around for long anyway 😏
✧ She thinks her heart is about to burst the day you two make home of the hills for an afternoon and you sit her down to weave flowers in her beautiful golden hair. Your hands are so gentle, never causing a single pull or tangle.
✧ She is forward with her words even if it takes some time, so one day Eowyn pulls you aside and with her hand in yours tells you how much she appreciates the glow of your presence in her life, the smiles you bring her.
Arwen
✧ Most people aren’t very playful with her, so she finds it very refreshing how relaxed, affectionate, and fun you are.
✧ You grab her hand and swing your joined hands between the two of you and all she can do is laugh merrily!
✧ One day, she wants to try the new sweets you’ve made, but imagine her surprise when you hand-feed it to her. Being an elf of such poise and grace, she doesn’t make a mess at all somehow despite her eyes firmly being on yours and nowhere near your creation 👀
✧ Arwen’s favorite habit of yours is the way you’ll take her hand and spontaneously twirl her around like you’re showing her off or having an impromptu dance. It lightens the weight of all other things for a moment and makes her feel like a queen!
✧ Repaying the favor, she makes sure you’re her first dance at every party. You open her up, giving her complete comfort to approach you and interlock your fingers, asking you if you won’t please her with your company for a bit. Of course you always say yes- you would even if she didn’t given you that teasing smile.
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hynzsn · 6 months ago
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★ SAFE HAVEN ★
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☆ johnny suh x male reader
-> boyfriend!johnny x depressed!reader
꩜ .ᐟ hurt/comfort, fluff
contents: caring!johnny, established relationship, reader has daddy issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms (not eating, isolating), implied/referenced emotional abuse (from reader’s father), swearing, hugs, pet names (babe, baby), reassurance from johnny
wc: 2.7k
summary: you’ve been mia for weeks - ghosting calls, barely eating, and basically becoming one with your bed. the voice in your head, it sounds a lot like your father, and it keeps telling you you’re worthless. good thing johnny’s voice - one that whispers sweet nothings and promises of forever - is even louder.
♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
[8:37 PM] 📱-> johnny 💝: yo, babe wtf?! you alive over there?? it’s been a minute…
[8:37 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: okay, jokes aside… please text me back. i’m worried about you 😔
[8:41 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: …
[8:45PM]📱-> johnny 💝: i’m coming over.
the messages sat unread, another three little gray bubbles added to the ever-growing count on your lock screen. you didn’t even bother to glance at them before letting your phone clatter back onto the mattress.
it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you were supposed to be the strong one, the one who always had it together, the one who could handle anything life threw at you with a smirk and a sarcastic quip. but lately, the mask had been feeling heavier, the edges digging into your skin, the forced smile making your cheeks ache.
you’d been spiraling for a while now, the familiar darkness creeping in like a fog, suffocating the joy out of everything. it started subtly – skipping meals, pushing deadlines, letting texts go unanswered. then it escalated, the isolation becoming a comforting cocoon as you withdrew further and further into yourself.
your phone buzzed again, the insistent vibration making you flinch. you knew it was johnny. he was the only one who still bothered, who saw through the carefully constructed facade you presented to the world.
he’d seen you at your worst – the breakdowns, the insecurities, the ugly crying sessions fueled by cheap instant ramen and self-loathing. and through it all, he never judged, never wavered. he was your rock, your anchor in the storm that raged within you.
but even rocks could crumble under enough pressure, and you couldn’t bear the thought of dragging him down with you. so, you did what you always did – you pushed everyone away, retreating into the fortress of your own making.
[9:36 PM]
a sharp knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. you froze, heart hammering in your chest. you weren’t expecting anyone, hadn’t spoken to another soul in days.
the knocking came again, more insistent this time.
“fuck,” you muttered, dragging yourself out of bed. your reflection in the darkened tv screen made you wince. you looked like a ghost – pale, gaunt, with dark circles etched beneath your eyes.
“i’m coming, hold on!” you called out, your voice raspy from disuse.
as you fumbled with the multiple locks on your door, a wave of dizziness washed over you. you leaned against the wall for support, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.
the door swung open, revealing johnny standing in the hallway, his face a mixture of relief and concern.
“hey,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in your disheveled appearance.
“hey,” you mumbled back, avoiding his eyes.
“can i come in?” he asked, his voice gentle.
you hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, allowing him to enter.
the moment he stepped inside, johnny’s face fell. the air was thick with the smell of unwashed laundry and stale takeout containers littered the coffee table. the curtains were drawn, casting the apartment in a perpetual twilight.
“jesus, babe,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “what the fuck happened?”
you shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “nothing. just… tired.”
he didn’t buy it for a second. he crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into a hug. you stiffened initially, surprised by the sudden contact, but then you melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm to your aching soul.
“don’t lie to me,” he murmured into your hair. “i know something’s wrong. you’ve been mia for weeks.”
you buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne – a comforting mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled by his shirt. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”
“worry me?” he chuckled humorlessly. “you scared the shit out of me, you know that? i thought something had happened to you.”
“i’m sorry,” you repeated, the words catching in your throat.
he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were filled with concern.
“talk to me,” he pleaded. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”
you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the tangled mess of emotions that had taken root in your mind, choking the life out of you?
“it’s just…” you started, your voice cracking. “everything feels… pointless. like i’m just going through the motions, you know?”
he nodded slowly, encouraging you to continue.
“i feel like i’m drowning, johnny,” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “and the worst part is, i don’t even know why. i have no reason to feel this way. i have a good life, a great boyfriend…”
“hey, hey,” he interrupted, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “it’s okay to not be okay. you don’t need a reason to feel the way you do. sometimes life just throws you a curveball, and you just gotta roll with it.”
his words, so simple yet profound, struck a chord within you. you had always felt the pressure to be strong, to have it all figured out. but maybe it was okay to not be okay. maybe it was okay to ask for help.
“i hate that you’re right,” you said, managing a weak smile.
he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. “that’s my boy.”
he pulled you back into a hug, this time tighter than before. you clung to him, letting his strength seep into you, chasing away the shadows that had been haunting you for so long.
“you know i’m here for you, right?” he murmured against your hair. “always.”
you nodded, burying your face in his chest, unwilling to let go. in his arms, you felt safe, protected from the storm raging within you.
“always,” you echoed, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down your cheek.
johnny didn’t let you go for a long time, holding you close as if he were afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip. the steady beat of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body pressed against yours – it was a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.
when he finally pulled away, his expression was serious. “okay, enough of this moping around,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “first things first, we’re getting some real food in you. and i’m not talking about that instant ramen crap.”
you opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a look. “don’t even try it,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “i know your eating habits have been shit lately. i can practically see your ribs.”
he was right, of course. you hadn’t had a proper meal in days, surviving on a steady diet of instant noodles and self-pity. but the thought of food made your stomach churn.
“i’m not really hungry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.
he raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “right, and i’m the tooth fairy. come on, babe, humor me.”
he didn’t wait for a response, instead taking your hand and pulling you towards the door. you stumbled after him, your legs shaky from disuse.
“where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
“my place,” he replied over his shoulder. “my fridge is stocked with enough food to feed a small army. and before you protest, you need a shower and a change of clothes, sweetheart. you reek of despair and instant ramen.”
he said it with so much affection, you couldn’t even be embarrassed. he was right, though. a shower did sound amazing.
the drive to johnny’s apartment was a blur. you sat in the passenger seat, watching the city lights stream by, your mind racing with a million thoughts per minute.
as he pulled into his parking spot, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy. his life seemed so…put together. he had his dream job as an idol, a spacious apartment with a view, and everyone adores him.
you, on the other hand, felt like you were constantly playing catch-up, like you were always one step behind everyone else. your dead-end job at the call center barely paid the bills, your apartment was a testament to your inability to adult properly, and theres the fact that… well, you feel completely lonely. sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were holding johnny back, embarrassing him. you and johnny have been together for a while now, but the thought of what he actually see’s in you still lingers in the back of your mind…
“you coming?” johnny’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. he was already out of the car, holding the passenger door open for you.
you forced a smile, hoping it reached your eyes. “yeah, sorry. just lost in thought.”
he gave you a knowing look, but he didn’t press further. he knew better than to push you when you were like this.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
his apartment was everything yours wasn’t – bright, spacious, and impeccably decorated. you felt a pang of guilt, realizing you hadn’t even bothered to tidy up before he came over.
“go on, shower’s in there,” he said, gesturing down the hallway. “towels are in the linen closet. i’ll find you something to wear.”
you almost protested, but the feel of johnny’s softest t-shirt in your hands stopped you. it even smelled like him. you quickly showered, washing away the grime and the lingering sadness that clung to you like a bad cologne.
stepping out, you found the promised clothes on the counter. you pulled on the soft t-shirt, the scent of him enveloping you like a warm hug. it was comforting, familiar. safe.
you found johnny in the kitchen, already dicing vegetables with practiced ease. he looked up as you entered, a soft smile gracing his lips.
“there’s my boy,” he murmured, his gaze lingering for a moment on how his shirt hung on you. “feeling a little more human?”
you nodded, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “yeah, i think i am.”
he was right. a shower, his clothes, his presence – it was already working its magic.
“good,” he said, his smile widening. “make yourself comfortable, baby,” he said, gesturing towards the plush sofa. “it’ll be ready soon.”
you sank onto the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of contentment. you had forgotten how good it felt to be here.
“so,” he said, his voice coming from the kitchen. “talk to me. what’s got you so down?”
you opened your eyes, watching as he moved around the kitchen with an ease that never failed to amaze you. he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hair tousled from running his fingers through it a million times.
you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair. “it’s just…everything,” you mumbled, not wanting to burden him with your problems.
he stopped what he was doing, turning to face you, his expression serious. “don’t do that,” he said, his voice firm. “don’t shut me out. talk to me.”
you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the suffocating weight of your father’s expectations, the constant feeling of never being good enough, the fear that you were destined to end up alone and miserable just like him?
“it’s stupid,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.
“nothing you say is stupid,” he reassured you, walking over and sitting down beside you on the sofa.
you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “it’s just…my dad called.”
johnny’s face hardened. he knew how much your father’s words could cut you, how deeply his disapproval ran.
“what did he say?” he asked, his voice tight.
you closed your eyes, the memory of your father’s condescending tone, his thinly veiled insults, sending a shiver down your spine.
“the usual,” you mumbled. “disappointment. failure. you know the drill.”
you opened your eyes to find johnny watching you, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.
“he’s an asshole, you know that right?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “you’re worth ten of him, and don’t you ever forget that.”
you wanted to believe him, you really did. but the truth was, his words, as much as they stung, had a way of burrowing under your skin, planting seeds of doubt that were hard to shake off.
“it’s not that easy, johnny,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “it’s like…it’s like his voice is always in my head, telling me i’m not good enough, that i’ll never amount to anything.”
johnny wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. you could hear the steady thump of his heart, a comforting rhythm against the chaos of your own thoughts.
“then we fight back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “we drown out his voice with other voices – voices that love you, voices that support you, voices that remind you of your worth.”
he tilted your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were blazing with a fierce intensity that took your breath away.
“you are not your father,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you are kind, you are talented, you are worthy of love. don’t ever let anyone, not even your own blood, tell you otherwise.”
his words, spoken with such conviction, such unwavering belief, pierced through the darkness that had settled over you. for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark igniting within the ashes of your despair.
“what would i do without you?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
he chuckled, the sound a balm to your soul. “probably starve to death in a pile of dirty laundry,” he teased, his tone light despite the seriousness of the moment.
you swatted his arm playfully, a genuine smile finally reaching your lips. “hey, i’ll have you know i did laundry last week,” you retorted, even though you both knew it was a blatant lie.
he laughed, the sound echoing through the apartment, chasing away the last vestiges of darkness.
“alright, alright, i believe you,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “now, how about that food i promised you? i’m starving.”
he stood up, pulling you along with him. you followed him into the kitchen, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days.
as he moved around the kitchen, preparing a simple but delicious meal of kimchi fried rice and bulgogi, you watched him with a newfound appreciation. he wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your best friend, your confidante, your rock. he was the one person who never gave up on you, even when you had given up on yourself.
you ate in comfortable silence, the only sound the clinking of chopsticks and the occasional contented sigh. it was amazing how something as simple as a good meal and good company could make the world seem a little less bleak.
after dinner, you helped johnny wash the dishes, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm as you worked side-by-side. as you scrubbed a particularly stubborn pot, you felt his gaze on you.
“what?” you asked, looking up at him with a questioning smile.
“nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s just… i’m glad you’re here.”
you knew what he meant. he wasn’t just talking about being physically present in his apartment; he was talking about letting him in, letting him see the real you, the broken, messy parts that you usually kept hidden from the world.
“me too,” you whispered, leaning against him, seeking his warmth, his strength.
he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.
“you’re safe here, you know,” he murmured against your hair. “safe with me.”
you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, soothing the ache in your heart. In his arms, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you were craving. he was your safe haven, your refuge from the storm.
and as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what life threw your way, you’d be alright, with him by your side.
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kaces-graham-crackers · 2 months ago
Text
Trick or Treat, Kiss or Keep - Halloween Special
Astrid Deetz x Reader
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Warning: The following themes appear in this story: Bullying, Slight Swearing, Lots of Emotional Stress, and themes leaning towards psychological horror (Please be wary if you read any further!)
Summary: You and Astrid Deetz were once close, but everything fell apart. Now on Halloween night, both are left vulnerable, forced to confront the past. Old feelings resurface, secrets are revealed, and you must navigate the emotional fallout. Be careful what you wish for—everything can change in an instant.
Word Count: 7.4k
Miss Shannon’s School for Girls was buzzing with excitement as Halloween approached. The grand halls were filled with the usual chatter. You were at the center of it all—popular, outgoing, and well-liked. People gravitated toward you, and it wasn’t something you thought too much about. It was just how things were.
But in the midst of all the noise, there was one person who barely seemed to exist in the social sphere. 
Astrid Deetz.
You glanced over at her as you walked down the hall, noticing her sitting quietly by herself at the far end of the courtyard, scrolling through her phone, her headphones on. She was always in her own world, a stark contrast to the person she used to be. Once upon a time, she was your best friend. You used to share everything—laughs, secrets, and the occasional mischievous prank. But that was before everything fell apart.
Before her father died.
You sighed and turned away, focusing on your friends as they talked about the big Halloween party that everyone was buzzing about. But no matter how much you tried to stay engaged, your mind kept drifting back to her—to the person Astrid used to be, and the person she had become.
She pulled away, you reminded yourself. I tried to be there, but she didn’t want me around.
At first, you hadn’t understood why she distanced herself. You had offered her comfort, a shoulder to lean on, but she walked away. And after a while, you gave up. What was the point of trying when it seemed like she didn’t want you in her life?
But what hurt more than the loss of friendship was the realization that your feelings for her had shifted. That the crush you had ignored for so long had always been there, lingering beneath the surface. You were so used to pushing it aside that when the distance grew, it felt like you had lost more than just a friend.
Now, as you climbed the stairs toward your next class, you saw Astrid again, walking toward you, head down, focused on her phone. She wasn’t paying attention, her mind clearly elsewhere, and before you could step aside—
Crash!
The two of you collided, sending her books and papers scattering across the floor. You stumbled back, barely catching yourself as you looked up, your heart racing.
“Sorry!” you blurted out, immediately crouching down to help her pick up the things she had dropped.
Astrid didn’t even look at you, her dark hair falling over her face as she mumbled something into her phone. She seemed annoyed, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
The girls nearby—your friends—began to laugh, thinking it was all some kind of joke. Julia Ripley, ever the instigator, smirked and leaned in closer. “Nice move, Y/N. Didn’t know you were so eager to knock her down.”
You shot Julia a look, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck. “It wasn’t on purpose,” you muttered, picking up Astrid’s phone and handing it back to her. “Sorry, Astrid.”
Astrid finally looked up, her gaze hard and distant. She grabbed the phone from your hand, barely acknowledging your apology. “Watch where you’re going,” she said, her voice sharp.
Her words cut deeper than you expected. It wasn’t like you meant to bump into her, but the coldness in her tone stung, bringing back the old wounds you thought you had buried.
“I wasn’t the one on my phone,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
Astrid’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it looked like she might say something, but instead, she just shoved her things into her bag and stood up, her body tense. The girls around you snickered again, feeding off the tension.
You felt something inside you crack. It wasn’t fair—you had always been there for her. You had been the one to stand by her when her world fell apart, but she had pushed you away, and now she acted like you were nothing.
“You know,” you said, your voice louder than you intended, “I was always there for you. You’re the one who didn’t seem to want me around.”
Astrid’s face hardened, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else—something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need you,” she spat, her voice dripping with bitterness. “I never did.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could feel the hurt bubbling up inside you, but you refused to let it show. Not in front of her. Not in front of everyone else.
Your heart shattered, but you didn’t let it show as you muttered, “I was always there for you, Astrid. Always.”
She turned to leave, her head held high, but before she could take more than a few steps, you noticed something taped to her back.
Kick Me.
Your stomach dropped as you realized what had happened. The girls—the same ones laughing at you now—had probably put it there without Astrid noticing.
You pulled the sign off her back and crumpled it in your hand. “Well, I’ll keep that noted,” you said quietly, holding back the anger that was building inside you. You pulled out a small box from your bag—the one you had been holding onto for years, unsure if you’d ever give it to her. “I promise I won’t bother you again.”
Astrid stopped, turning slightly, her expression confused as she glanced at the box you were offering. You handed it off to her and for a moment, it looked like she might say something, but she stayed silent, watching as you walked away, leaving her standing there, the crumpled sign still in your hand.
Without you there to shield her from the worst of it, the bullying came back with full force, creeping into every corner of Astrid's life. It started slowly at first—a whisper in the hallway, a subtle snicker behind her back. The same girls who had once stuck close to her, laughing with her at lunch, had turned on her, mocking her with cruel smiles. They no longer treated her like one of them. Instead, she became their favorite target
"Bad friend." "Such a freak." "Dick."
The names came faster, louder, no longer just murmurs. They trailed behind her as she walked to class, a never-ending barrage of taunts and jeers. Each one stung, each word a reminder of how quickly she had fallen from whatever thin pedestal she had once stood on. The girls would throw fake smiles her way in passing, only to tear her down the second she was out of earshot. 
In gym class, they’d intentionally leave her out, pretending not to see her as they picked teams. At lunch, the spot they had once saved for her at their table was gone, replaced by smug looks and snide comments.
"Guess you're sitting alone again," Julia Ripley sneered one day, loud enough for everyone in the cafeteria to hear. The rest of the group erupted into laughter, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Astrid clenched her fists, her stomach turning as she moved to the far corner of the room, sitting at a table by herself. It wasn’t like she was ever one to seek attention, but the isolation stung in a way she hadn’t expected. It reminded her of everything she had lost. Of you.
You were the one who had kept the worst of this away from her. You had stood between her and their cruelty, even when she didn’t notice it. Even when she had been too blinded by her grief and her anger to see that you were protecting her all along.
The realization hit her hard one evening, as she walked through the hallways after class. She overheard one of the girls laughing with her friends. "God, remember when Y/N used to hang around with her? I swear that's the only reason people didn't mess with her back then."
Another voice chimed in, "Yeah, totally. Y/N was the only one keeping her from being a total loser."
Astrid’s heart sank. It wasn’t just their words—it was the truth behind them. You had been her shield, the one person who had protected her from the relentless bullying that was now pouring in from every direction. And she had pushed you away, thinking she didn’t need anyone. Thinking she didn’t need you.
But now? She was alone.
The girls who once stood by her side had turned into her tormentors, and the rest of the school followed suit, treating her like an outsider. The isolation weighed on her more than she ever thought it could. She found herself dreading every moment at Miss Shannon's, wondering when the next sneer, the next insult, would come. She had no one to turn to now—no one to sit with at lunch, no one to talk to during class. The people she once thought were her friends had abandoned her the moment it became convenient.
And you? You were the only one who had ever been real. The only one who had cared, even when she didn’t deserve it. Even when she had lashed out, pushing you away with cruel words. The memory of the argument echoed in her mind, the way you had looked at her with hurt in your eyes, the way she had said things she could never take back.
"I don’t need you. I never did."
The words tasted bitter now, and the weight of what she had done gnawed at her. How wrong she had been. She didneed you—she always had. But she had thrown that away, and now she was facing the consequences.
Every cruel word, every mocking glance, every laugh behind her back—it all felt like punishment. And she wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.
One evening, as Astrid sat at her desk, the weight of the last few weeks pressing down on her, she noticed the small box you had given her earlier that week. She had shoved it aside after your argument, not even considering opening it at the time. But now, with everything swirling around her—guilt, regret, and the growing realization of her mistakes—her curiosity got the better of her.
With trembling hands, she reached for the box, her fingers brushing against the lid. A part of her didn’t want to open it, knowing that whatever was inside would only remind her of what she had lost. But another part of her—a part that missed you more than she cared to admit—couldn’t ignore it any longer.
Slowly, she lifted the lid.
Inside was something she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just any piece of jewelry or a token of the past—it was a small animal tooth, crafted into a pendant. The sight of it hit her like a wave, memories flooding back instantly.
She remembered the day you had found it, the two of you exploring the woods near the school, laughing as you pretended to be on some grand adventure. You had stumbled upon the tooth—an old keepsake of the forest, worn and weathered—and immediately decided to keep it. She hadn’t thought much of it back then, but you had been adamant, saying it would bring you both good luck.
And now, etched into the bone, were the letters “Y/I/H x AD 4Ever.” A promise, a bond that had once seemed unbreakable.
Astrid’s fingers traced the engraving, her heart sinking as the weight of the memory settled over her. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the sense of belonging she had only ever felt with you—it all came rushing back, tinged with the bitter sting of regret.
Why did I push you away? she thought bitterly, gripping the bone tightly in her hand. Why did I let this all fall apart?
She clenched her jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotions crashing through her. She had been so angry, so hurt after her father’s death, that she had pushed you away without a second thought. She had convinced herself that she didn’t need you—that she didn’t need anyone. But now, looking at this simple, meaningful piece from a time when things had been so much easier, so much better, she realized how wrong she had been.
You were always there, she thought. And I threw it all away.
Astrid’s grip tightened on the pendant as her guilt deepened. She didn’t deserve your friendship. Not after everything she had said, everything she had done. 
Later that night, as Astrid sat at her desk, her thoughts clouded with memories and guilt, she heard a faint rustling at her door. The soft sound barely registered over the hum of her own mind, but when she glanced down, she saw an envelope—plain, black, and unmarked—slipped under the doorframe.
Curious, she picked it up, turning it over in her hands. There was no name, no sign of who it was from. She opened it slowly, pulling out a glossy, printed invitation:
Halloween Party at Julia Ripley’s House This Saturday—Be there or be forgotten.
Astrid scoffed under her breath. Of course, it was from Julia. It was always her, throwing lavish parties and acting like she owned the school. The thought of going made her stomach turn. The idea of being surrounded by people who whispered about her behind her back, who made her feel like an outsider in every room she entered—people like Julia and her friends—it was the last thing she wanted.
She tossed the invitation aside, rolling her eyes at the pretentiousness of it all. What’s the point of showing up to something where you’re only going to be mocked?
Astrid hadn’t been to a party in ages, and she had no interest in the social scene anymore. Not after everything that had happened. The halls of Miss Shannon’s were already hard enough to navigate, and the idea of facing the crowd outside of school, where the insults weren’t whispered but spat directly in her face, was exhausting.
But then, a stray comment floated through her memory—something she had overheard in the hall earlier that day.
"Yeah, Y/N’s definitely going to Julia’s party," one of the girls had said, laughing about how they couldn’t wait to see what costume you would wear.
Astrid’s heart had lurched at the mention of your name, and now, it did again. You were going.
She bit her lip, glancing at the small black box still open on her desk. The pendant inside—the one with the animal tooth and your initials intertwined with hers—sat there, a reminder of what she had thrown away. The realization that you had never really given up on her, even when she had given up on herself, had shaken her to her core.
The guilt had been gnawing at her for days now, ever since you had walked away from her after your argument in the hallway. She hadn’t wanted to admit it then, but it hurt, knowing how badly she had hurt you. She had pushed you away in her darkest moments, convinced she didn’t need anyone, least of all you. But now, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she had lost.
You were always there for me, and I was the one who left you. The thought kept repeating itself in her mind, over and over again, a painful truth she could no longer ignore.
And now…you were going to be at that party. The chance to see you, to explain, to finally apologize for everything she had done, made her heart race. Maybe—just maybe—this could be her chance to make things right.
She stood up from her desk, pacing her small dorm room as she debated what to do. Part of her wanted to forget about it, to hide away in her room like she always did these days, to avoid the crowd and the stares and the inevitable whispers. But another part of her—a deeper, more desperate part—wanted to see you. She needed to see you.
What if this was her only chance? What if you never spoke to her again? What if the door she had slammed shut so long ago could finally be cracked open, even if just a little?
The thought of you, of the friendship—and maybe more—that she had ruined weighed heavily on her chest.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair, her heart heavy with indecision. Could she really face you after everything?
The memory of your face, hurt and betrayed during your last confrontation, flashed in her mind. She had been so cruel, so blinded by her own grief and anger, that she hadn’t realized how much she was hurting you in return. But you had never stopped trying. You had never given up on her, even when she had been at her worst.
And that necklace—the pendant—it was proof. Proof that, even now, you still cared.
Astrid looked at the invitation again, staring at it for a long moment. She had no idea what she would say if she saw you, no idea if you’d even want to hear her out. But she couldn’t hide forever. She couldn’t keep running from the mistakes she had made.
Her fingers tightened around the invitation, determination creeping into her chest. She would go to that party. She would see you. She would find a way to apologize, to make things right, no matter how difficult it might be.
But what she didn’t know—what she couldn’t have known—was that the party wouldn’t be what she expected. Nothing could have prepared her for what was waiting for her when she walked through the doors of Julia’s house.
The night of the Halloween party arrived, and Astrid found herself standing at the bottom of the grand, sloping driveway of Julia’s house. She looked up at the looming structure, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and dread. The house, which always had an air of old-world elegance, had been transformed for the occasion. Black and orange streamers lined the walkway, fake cobwebs clung to the trees, and glowing jack-o’-lanterns grinned wickedly from every corner.
The house itself was a strange sight—a looming, gothic-style mansion with towering spires and a stone façade that seemed to absorb the moonlight. It looked like it had been plucked straight from a haunted movie set, with vines creeping up its walls and the shadow of bare, twisted branches looming overhead. The front porch had been decorated with fake tombstones and skeletal figures, and the grand windows glowed brightly from the lights inside, cutting through the eerie atmosphere.
Despite the elaborate decorations, it was the sheer size of the house that made it unsettling. It felt as though the windows watched her, almost as if the house itself had its own pulse—one that beat in time with the heavy, thumping bass of the music coming from inside.
Astrid hesitated, lingering at the edge of the driveway. She could hear laughter and chatter filtering out through the open windows, the muffled sound of party-goers enjoying themselves. Everyone was probably in some over-the-top costume, laughing and taking pictures, oblivious to the person standing outside, contemplating whether she should go in.
Her grip tightened around her phone, the weight of the invitation pulling at her again. You’ll be there, she reminded herself. Maybe this is my chance.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and made her way up the steps. The porch creaked beneath her feet as she approached the door. A skeleton animatronic on the porch swung its bony arm, a hollow, mechanical laugh escaping its jaws as it greeted her arrival. She forced herself to ignore the knot of unease forming in her stomach and pushed open the door.
Inside, the party was in full swing. The interior of the house was just as elaborately decorated as the outside—blood-red lighting washed over the grand foyer, casting long, eerie shadows against the walls. A giant chandelier hung overhead, draped in fake cobwebs, while ghostly figures dangled from the ceiling. The air smelled like a mix of too-sweet candy and perfume, and the sound of people talking and laughing filled the space, almost drowning out the pulsing music that seemed to shake the floor beneath her feet.
She stood just inside the doorway, scanning the room for a familiar face. But she didn’t see you. Instead, all she saw were people dressed in elaborate costumes—vampires, witches, zombies—mingling in groups, none of them even noticing she had arrived. A part of her wanted to turn around and leave, but she stayed, rooted in place, determined to find you.
Astrid kept to the shadows, moving along the walls to avoid drawing attention to herself. She wasn’t here to socialize or make small talk—she was here for one reason, and that was to find you and apologize. The weight of everything she had done, everything she had said, hung heavy on her chest. She didn’t know if you would forgive her, but she needed to try.
Suddenly, the music cut off.
Astrid froze, her heart skipping a beat as the house plunged into silence. The chatter of the guests grew quieter, murmurs of confusion rippling through the crowd. For a moment, all that could be heard was the soft rustle of costumes and the shuffling of feet. Then, the lights went out, plunging the entire room into complete darkness.
Gasps echoed around her, followed by the sound of people shifting uncomfortably. There was an eerie stillness in the air, as if the entire house was holding its breath. Astrid felt her pulse quicken, her hand instinctively reaching into her pocket for her phone.
Suddenly, the sound of a recorded voice crackled through the speakers, filling the dark space. It wasn’t the music that had been playing before. Instead, it was the sound of people gasping and whispering, their voices faint but filled with an edge of fear. It was as if the very walls of the house had come alive, replaying the reactions of the party guests as they stood in the dark.
Astrid’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t like this—not one bit.
She stood in the corner, frozen, unsure of what to do as the whispers and gasps continued to play on repeat. For a moment, she wondered if it was just part of the Halloween decor—some kind of haunted house effect Julia had set up to scare the guests. But something about it felt off.
She pulled out her phone, turning on the flashlight to cut through the darkness. The bright beam of light flickered as it swept across the room, illuminating the faces of mannequins—twisted, grotesque mannequins—that had been scattered throughout the house. They stood motionless, positioned in strange, unnatural poses, their faces twisted into eerie, silent screams. Some had limbs missing, others had blood-red paint dripping down their plastic faces. Each one had a sign hung around its neck, scrawled in dripping red letters.
Bad Friend. Liar. Asshole.
The words stared back at her, harsh and biting, like cruel accusations carved into the very mannequins themselves. Astrid’s stomach twisted with unease. The mannequins hadn’t been there before, had they? She would have noticed. Right?
As she swept her phone’s light across the room, her breath quickened. More mannequins lined the walls, their distorted figures positioned in grotesque mockery of real people. It was as if they were watching her, judging her. And the worst part? Every single mannequin bore a name—her name.
Astrid Deetz.
It was written on every sign, alongside the cruel words: Bad Friend. Asshole. Dick.
Astrid felt a lump form in her throat, her heart racing as panic began to settle in. This wasn’t just part of the Halloween decor. This was something more. Something meant to get under her skin, to humiliate her in front of everyone.
Her hands trembled as she turned in place, the light from her phone casting long shadows on the floor. She could hear the recorded voices growing louder now—mocking whispers, cruel laughter, as if the house itself was laughing at her. The walls seemed to close in around her, the once festive atmosphere now twisted into something sinister.
Astrid’s breath came in ragged gasps as the reality of the situation sank in. This was a prank. A cruel, calculated prank, meant to make her feel like she was nothing. And it was working.
She stumbled backward, her legs shaky as she tried to move away from the mannequins, her light flickering as it caught more of the red-painted words.
BAD FRIEND. ASSHOLE. YOU DESERVE THIS.
The whispers in the recording grew louder, harsher, until they were ringing in her ears, drowning out her thoughts. She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block out the noise, but it only seemed to get louder.
And then—right in front of her, projected on the wall—was the worst thing of all.
A photo of you, standing with Julia Ripley, her arms draped over you, leaning in as if to kiss you. You were blurred, but the image was clear enough. It was meant to look like you and Julia were together—meant to hurt her, to break her down even more.
Astrid’s knees buckled as she collapsed to the floor, her heart shattering at the sight. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to scream, to tear down the image, to run. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
She could only sit there, frozen in place, as the world around her fell apart.
The party had dragged on, and you were on the verge of giving up. Astrid hadn’t shown, and as the hours passed, the hope you’d been clinging to slowly dissolved. You were about to grab a drink, resigned to the idea that maybe tonight wasn’t the night to fix things, when something strange caught your eye.
A crowd had gathered around the large TV in the corner of the room. It wasn’t the usual video games or party antics playing on the screen—it was something different. Something wrong. The air in the room felt heavier, the laughter quieting into hushed whispers, and you pushed your way through the crowd, anxiety creeping up your spine as you tried to get a better view.
And then, you saw it.
On the screen was a live feed of Astrid, kneeling in the middle of some dark, abandoned room. Her body was shaking, her hands covering her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. In front of her, projected on the wall, was a cruel, photoshopped image—you with Julia Ripley, standing too close, her lips almost touching yours. The sight of it hit you like a punch to the chest, the knot of horror tightening in your stomach. This wasn’t some innocent prank. This was deliberate. This was cruel.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and the reality of what was happening crashed down on you all at once. They had set her up. This wasn’t a party invitation—this was a trap, designed to humiliate Astrid, to break her down in front of everyone. Julia Ripley was behind this.
You whirled around, scanning the room, your blood boiling as you spotted Julia, sitting comfortably in a lavish chair she had dragged out—her "prom queen" chair, a symbol of her self-obsessed reign over the social scene. She was sitting at the front, watching Astrid’s breakdown on the screen with a smug expression plastered on her face, completely unaware of the rage building inside you.
Without thinking, you stormed toward her, anger boiling over with every step. Julia saw you coming, and before you could even speak, she reached out, her arm moving to wrap itself around you in a flirtatious, almost possessive way. She looked at you with a sly grin, as if she expected you to join her in her twisted satisfaction.
But you were beyond furious.
“You went too far,” you said, your voice low and sharp, your hands clenched into fists as you shoved her hand off you, disgusted. “When you said you invited her, you meant to a prank party, didn’t you?”
Julia’s smirk faltered. Her hand recoiled, but she tried to play it off, huffing in annoyance as she leaned back in her chair. “She deserved it,” she snapped, her voice dripping with condescension. “After the way she treated you, how can you still defend her? You deserve better.”
You couldn’t believe the audacity, and the rage inside you boiled over.
You clenched your fists tighter, every muscle in your body trembling with anger. “Deserve better?” you echoed, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury. “I could never be your girlfriend—I’m in love with Astrid! I always have been, and I always will be.”
Julia’s eyes widened in shock, and a hush fell over the room. The words left your mouth before you could stop them, but you didn’t care. You had held it in for too long, and now it was out, ringing in the air for everyone to hear.
“I’ve always been in love with Astrid Deetz,” you repeated, your voice firm, filled with emotion. “Because unlike everyone else in this room, she’s real. She’s the realest fucking person I’ve ever met. Yeah, she can be a dick sometimes, but she’s mourning. She’s going through life with a mother who is too busy to acknowledge her and a father who was the only person who ever truly understood her, now gone forever.”
The room was dead silent now. You could feel every pair of eyes on you, but all you could think about was Astrid—how broken she had looked, sobbing on her knees in that abandoned house.
“At least Astrid’s dad loved her for who she was, not for what she could do for him,” you continued, your voice growing louder, more passionate with every word. “He didn’t need her to win some meaningless trophies to impress other middle-aged women going through their midlife crises.”
Julia’s smug expression melted away as your words hit her like a sledgehammer, her face paling as tears welled up in her eyes. The entire crowd stood frozen, the weight of your words settling over them like a heavy cloud.
Everyone was silent. The only sound that remained was the faint, echoing sobs from the live feed of Astrid on the TV.
You turned back to the screen, the tears now welling up in your own eyes as you heard the sound of Astrid’s broken confessions playing over the speakers. Her voice, fragile and filled with regret, crackled through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade.
“Where is she?” you demanded, your voice shaking. You turned back to Julia, who had nothing left to say. She stared at you, tears streaming down her face, but you had no sympathy for her. You didn’t care about her tears.
All that mattered was Astrid.
Julia stammered, trying to pull herself together, but she was too flustered to form words. You couldn’t wait any longer. You needed to find Astrid, and you needed to find her now.
Without another word, you rushed toward the door, your heart racing as you prepared yourself for what came next. Astrid was out there, alone, broken, and you weren’t going to let her suffer any longer. You had to save her.
As you sprinted through the streets, your heart racing, you couldn’t stop thinking about Astrid—how broken she looked, how badly you needed to find her. You heard snippets of her confession playing on the live feed, her voice choked with emotion as she admitted her guilt and sorrow.
“I was a terrible friend,” she sobbed. “I didn’t deserve her… She was always there, but I pushed her away. I didn’t know how to handle it… And now, it’s too late. I’m so sorry.”
Tears pricked at your eyes as you heard her words. You had to get to her. Now.
Miraculously, You had found the abandoned building. This was the second option for the Halloween party if Julia’s dad wasn’t leaving for a yacht trip. You vaguely remember the room Astrid was in and raced through the abandoned house, your heart pounding. The air was thick with the smell of decay, and the dimly lit hallways were littered with mannequin limbs and scattered decorations. The floor creaked beneath your feet as you pushed open a cracked door, your chest tightening with fear.
“I don’t deserve her… I pushed her away because I didn’t know how to deal with it…,” Astrid’s voice, thick with emotion, echoed through the room as you sprinted through the dark hallways of the abandoned house. Her confession played on the live feed, each word pulling at your heart. Tears pricked your eyes as you heard the depth of her regret, and with every step, the urgency to find her grew.
You finally pushed through the door, in the center of the room, under the faint flickering red lighting of the chandelier, Astrid was kneeling. Her face was buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed uncontrollably in front of the photoshopped image of you and Julia. You could feel the anger bubbling inside you, wanting to scream at Julia for orchestrating this awful setup, for making Astrid feel so broken. But as soon as you saw Astrid, all that mattered was getting to her.
You knelt beside her, gently placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. Astrid flinched at the touch, her body tensing, but when she looked up and saw it was you, her devastated expression deepened.
“Why are you here?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You shouldn’t have come… You don’t need to see me like this.”
Your throat tightened as you fought to keep your voice steady. “I’m here because I care, Astrid. I’ve always cared.”
She shook her head, her eyes filled with regret and self-loathing. “I don’t deserve your care. I don’t deserve you.” She let out a broken laugh, her voice raw with guilt. “I’ve been horrible to you. I said… I said I didn’t need you, but I didn’t mean it. I was just so angry at everything—at the world, at myself.”
Her words cut deep, but you could see the pain behind them. The guilt had been gnawing at her, consuming her from the inside, and now, as you knelt beside her, you realized just how much she had been carrying alone.
“I know,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “ I know you didn’t mean those things. You were grieving, and I should have understood that. But I never stopped caring, Astrid. I never gave up on you.”
Astrid looked at you, wide-eyed and tearful, her breath catching in her throat. “But I was so awful to you…” she choked out, her hands shaking.
“You were hurting,” you said, gently wiping the tears from her cheek. “And I know that now. But I’m here, Astrid. I’m still here.”
Her sobs began to quiet against your shoulder, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d carried finally seemed to lift, if only slightly. For so long, she had been drowning in her pain, and you could feel the relief in the way she clung to you, her fingers gripping your shirt like you were her lifeline, afraid to let go in case she sank back into the darkness.
You stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her sobs subside into quiet, steady breaths. Your hand moved gently through her hair, offering her the comfort she had denied herself for so long.
“I’ve been so stupid,” she whispered eventually, her voice hoarse and heavy with regret. “I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to handle anything anymore. I was angry. I was scared… and instead of asking for help, I turned into someone I hate.”
Your heart ached at her words, hearing how much she had struggled, all the while shutting you out. But now, here she was, vulnerable, her walls crumbling around her as she finally let you in.
“You were hurting, Astrid,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. And I forgive you. We can fix this.”
Her eyes searched yours, wide and tear-filled, as if trying to grasp the truth of your words. “But how can you forgive me after everything? I treated you like you didn’t matter. I threw away our friendship, pushed you out of my life… How do we come back from that?”
You smiled gently, brushing away another tear that escaped down her cheek. “We come back from it by starting right here, right now. You’re not alone anymore. I’m not going anywhere.”
Astrid’s lip quivered, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours, her breath shaky as she let out a soft sigh. “I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice breaking with emotion. “But I’m so grateful you’re here.”
You smiled, tightening your embrace around her. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be, Astrid. With you.”
She closed her eyes, resting her head against your shoulder again, her grip on your shirt loosening as she let herself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. The tension between you faded, replaced by the quiet comfort of being together—finally, after so much time and distance.
As the sound of her steady breaths filled the room, you realized that it wasn’t just the apology or the confession that mattered. It was the fact that you were still here, together, ready to rebuild what had been broken.
“We’ll figure it out,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
Astrid nodded against your shoulder, her body calming as the weight of her guilt began to lift. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a second chance with you,” she said, her voice raw but grateful. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”
You pulled her even closer, holding her tight as your heart swelled with love and relief. “You don’t have to do it alone,” you whispered softly. “We’ll do it together.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Astrid let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—things could be okay again.
After a long, tear-filled confession, you and Astrid left the abandoned house. The chilly night air hit your skin, the weight of the tension left behind in that eerie place still hanging in the air. The house itself, with its broken windows and crumbling walls, seemed to watch you both as you walked away. Its dim, flickering lights and twisted mannequins were now just a distant memory, but their haunting presence clung to you. The cracked door creaked one last time before closing behind you.
The air felt heavier, but for the first time in a long while, there was also something new between you—hope.
You guided Astrid back to your place, her hand tucked into yours. She was silent most of the way, her fingers tightening around yours every so often, as if she was afraid you might disappear. The long walk through the dark, empty streets felt almost comforting after the night’s emotional chaos, the streetlights flickering softly, casting long shadows on the ground as you both walked side by side.
When you finally arrived at your house, the warmth of the familiar environment enveloped you. Your parents were already asleep, the quiet hum of the house wrapping around you like a protective blanket. You led Astrid to your room, offering her a soft smile as you turned on the small lamp by your bed.
“Come on, let’s get you settled,” you said gently, watching as Astrid glanced around the room with an almost shy expression. She looked so different now—vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before. But there was also a kind of peace in her eyes, like she was finally letting herself breathe again.
You both climbed into your bed, wrapping yourselves in the warm blankets, and for the first time in what felt like forever, things felt... okay. You lay next to each other, sharing quiet conversation as the weight of the night slowly faded away.
At one point, you admitted, “I heard most of your confession, you know.”
Astrid stiffened beside you, her eyes widening as she turned to face you, clearly embarrassed. “You did?”
You nodded, your gaze soft. “I did. And I’m glad I heard it, Astrid. I needed to know how much you’ve been hurting.”
Astrid’s face twisted in regret, but before she could speak, you gently wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “You don’t have to say anything else. I’m just glad you’re here.”
She held onto you tightly after that, her body relaxing against yours as the tension melted away. But then, as you shifted slightly to make room, Astrid’s hand gripped your shirt, stopping you from moving any further. You blinked, confused for a moment, until she pulled you back toward her.
And before you could even react, she crashed her lips against yours.
The kiss was soft at first—gentle, almost hesitant as if she was testing the waters. But soon, it deepened, growing more heated and passionate. Her hands tangled in your shirt, pulling you closer as her lips moved against yours, and you responded in kind, matching her intensity.
The kiss turned sloppy, her fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, tugging you closer. The heat between you both was palpable, the passion years in the making, but just as things started to intensify, there was a sudden creak at the door.
Your mother.
The door opened slightly, and Astrid, in a panic, shoved you so hard you fell right off the bed with a soft thud.
“Oh my goodness!” your mom squealed from the doorway, her eyes bright with surprise. “Astrid, honey, is that you?” She didn’t seem to notice you, sprawled out on the floor, as she focused entirely on Astrid. “Are you staying over tonight? I’m so glad to see you back!”
Astrid, flustered and embarrassed, stammered, “Uh, no—no, ma’am. I’m not staying.”
Your mom beamed, already half out the door. “Well, you must stay for dinner. You’re looking a bit thin! I’ll go tell your father to break out the good china tonight! It’s so good to see you again, sweetie!” With that, she closed the door, leaving the two of you in stunned silence.
Astrid peered over the edge of the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
You, still dazed from the sudden shove and your mother’s enthusiastic surprise, could only mutter, “You kissed me…”
Astrid burst out laughing, rolling onto her back as she covered her face with her hands. Her laughter was light and mischievous, her embarrassment melting away into something playful. “Duh,” she said between laughs. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
You stared up at her, feeling a mix of disbelief and affection swirl in your chest.
“Now,” Astrid said, her laughter still bubbling in her voice, “come on back up here so I can ruin your dinner with some more sweets.”
Grinning, you scrambled back into bed, leaning in to kiss her again, the warmth of her lips meeting yours once more. This time, the kiss was slow, sweet, and filled with everything you hadn’t been able to say before. It was perfect.
The next day at school, the change was obvious. People stared as you and Astrid walked through the halls hand-in-hand. The whispers didn’t bother you. They couldn’t. Not when Astrid was right there beside you, holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You walked her to class, stealing a quick kiss before she disappeared inside. She blushed slightly but smiled at you as she waved you off.
As Astrid made her way through the day, she started to notice something—the bullying had stopped. There were no cruel whispers, no mocking looks. Instead, people seemed wary, like they knew something had shifted but couldn’t quite place it.
Later, after classes, Astrid found you waiting for her by the lockers. She was curious, the confusion evident on her face as she asked, “What happened today? Did you… do something?”
You shrugged casually, pulling out your phone and showing her a video. It was of you, roasting Julia Ripley in front of everyone at the Halloween party the night before. You had confronted her, tearing into her with the same fiery passion that had always defined you.
Astrid’s mouth dropped open, completely gobsmacked as she watched the video. “You did this?”
You smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just kept it real. Like you would.”
Astrid’s shocked expression slowly morphed into a smirk. She leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, "Guess I’m rubbing off on you...knew I would eventually." leaving you blushing as she walked ahead, as you followed suit.
262 notes · View notes
rosieswriting · 2 months ago
Text
More than what you see
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Remus Lupin x reader
Summary: You need to remind your boyfriend how much he is worthy off once again after a terrible full moon
Note: English is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! It´s pure fluff with hurt/comfort from reader to Remus because i just love this prompt so much.
Words: 1.4K
He was barely holding himself together; shoulders slumped as he leaned against the cold wall of your bedroom. Still, as you reached for him, he shifted, pulling his torn sleeves down over the raw skin on his arms.
“Don’t. I’m fine,” he muttered, but the words lacked conviction, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. He tried to tug the tattered fabric tighter, as if hiding the wounds could somehow shield you from seeing just how much he was hurting.
You knelt beside him, hands hovering just inches away, waiting. He took a shuddering breath, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, guilt flickering in them. “You… you shouldn’t have to keep doing this,” he mumbled, voice cracking as he finally let his head fall back against the wall. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I don’t want you to see me like this. Not… every time.”
You bit your inner cheek at his words, your own heart aching for him. “But I want to be here for you. I want to help you,” you said slowly and softly, making sure not to elevate your tone. “Please, let me help you.”
He looked up at you; it still felt surreal to him to have someone in his life who wasn’t annoyed or bothered by his condition, even after years of friendship and months of dating. He just looked at you for a moment and nodded, allowing you to care for him.
You smiled softly and grabbed the hem of his shirt, slowly and carefully beginning to take it off him, the new scars along his chest revealed.
“It’s not like I prefer you with clothes anyway,” you muttered playfully, trying to lighten the mood as you let his shirt fall to the floor and reached for the med kit beside your bed.
He looked away, trying to hide a hint of a smile as you joked. It definitely helped reduce the tension. “Shut up,” he muttered back.
He tried to relax as you gently tended to his wounds, first disinfecting them and cleaning the dried blood from his chest and arms. “It’s not that bad, really,” he mumbled, wincing only slightly a few times when the cloth touched a particularly painful spot.
He was trying to downplay the whole thing, acting like he wasn’t struggling. He didn’t want to bother you or make you worry. Even so, the fact that you were here with him, taking care of him, made his heart fill with a different kind of comfort.
“Rem,” you called out softly. “I worry and heal freaking birds when they have a broken wing or something. You clearly went mad if you think I won’t help my boyfriend,” you teased him.
Remus raised an eyebrow, giving you a deadpan stare. “I’m offended that you’re comparing me to a bird,” he joked back, appreciating your playful banter. “You’re too good for me, you know that, don’t you?” he muttered, the smile that was beginning to form at the corners of his lips fading a little.
You finished healing his wounds and set the med kit on the table next to the bed before sitting in front of him, looking at him.
“I don’t know that. What I do know is that you don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m only good for you because you’re good for me. That’s how we work,” you spoke softly, brushing his hair out of his face.
He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. Of course, he had his moments of confidence and self-acceptance. Still, on days like this, his self-esteem hit an all-time low, and he couldn’t help but feel like you were doing too much for him.
“But I’m a werewolf,” he pointed out in a low voice. His mind kept telling him that someone as good as you should run as far away as possible from a creature like him, not stay and care for him.
“You are Remus Lupin,” you said quickly and softly. “You are my friend and my boyfriend. Being a werewolf is part of you, but it doesn’t define you. You are you, and you happen to be the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
He swallowed hard at your words, feeling a mixture of emotions welling up inside him. It wasn’t as if no one had ever said something kind to him; thanks to Merlin, he had wonderful friends. But those words coming from you always hit him hard. He still hesitated to believe them, though. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Rem,” you mumbled softly, your own heart breaking at how he couldn’t see himself as you did. You cupped his face softly and made him look at you. “You know me; if I even thought for a second that you were a monster, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be dating you, and I wouldn’t be telling you how amazing you are. But I am here because you, Remus Lupin, are nowhere near a monster. Not even close.”
He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of your soft hands as you cupped his face. Your words were like a warm caress that soothed his aching heart, but he still struggled internally to let your message sink in. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. “You deserve someone who’s normal, someone who isn’t a walking time bomb.”
“I know what I’m worthy of,” you cut him off softly, not wanting him to keep talking down about himself. “I’m worthy of someone who loves and appreciates me. Someone who’s with me at all times, who cries with me when something bad happens, and who laughs with me when something good happens. I’m worthy of love and devotion. Of someone who’ll come to me the moment I call them, even if they’re doing something important. Of someone who makes me feel safe,” you spoke sweetly, caressing his cheek. “And that someone is you.”
Remus was quiet for a few moments, his eyes locked on yours as he took in your words. Each sentence was like a knife, tearing down the walls he’d built around himself. He swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat. “You do deserve that,” he managed to say at last.
“And you give me all of that and more,” you let out a short laugh. “Merlin, I used to think I was such a loser, Remus. Really, I always thought nobody would ever have the patience to even try to date me. But then you appeared, and you were you. You were the only one—and still are—who lets me ramble for hours about silly things. You’re the one who makes me feel loved. No monster could ever do that.”
His heart clenched at your words. The thought of you thinking of yourself as a loser tore at his soul. How could you, the kindest, sweetest, and most generous person, ever think something like that? He reached out and took your hands in his, holding them tight. “You are not a loser,” he murmured softly. “You are vibrant, caring, and everything good in the world.”
You smiled at his words and squeezed his hands. “So are you, and it pains me that you don’t realize. I love you, everything about you.”
Remus’s breath hitched at your words. The feeling of your hands clutching his and your smile washing over him left him lost for words, unable to find the right response to express just how deeply your love affected him.
“I love you too,” he choked, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “More than anything in the world.”
“I will tell you every day that you are not a monster until it gets into your thick head, do you understand me, Lupin?” you mumbled softly, teasingly.
He let out a soft chuckle, a mix of amusement and affection. “Trust me, you’re loud enough that it’s impossible to ignore what you say,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, making you roll your eyes in playful banter.
“But in all seriousness,” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, the tension and lingering self-doubt slowly melting away. “I’ll try to stop beating myself up all the time.”
You smiled widely at his words. “Can I kiss you now?” you asked playfully, making him chuckle.
“Of course, dove.”
He leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a slow, soft kiss filled with reassurance and love.
The next day, when you went off in the afternoon to spend time with your friends, he went to a jewelry shop and bought an engagement ring.
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purifiedclitoris69 · 28 days ago
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Breaking point
a/n: Finally got to the nat version of silent comfort. It’s a little short tbh so sorry about that. hope you enjoy!
pairings: Natasha Romanoff x supersoldier reader
warnings: violence
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You’d been with the Avengers for almost a year now, and in that time, you’d managed to carve out a space for yourself on the team. Sure, being the former Hydra experiment wasn’t exactly the most inviting introduction, but you didn’t let that define you. It wasn’t who you were anymore. You were the team’s go-to for a laugh, always cracking jokes, lightening the mood, and making it easier for everyone to handle the high-stakes pressure of their lives. What you didn’t talk about, though, was your past. Not because anyone had told you not to, but because you didn’t want to relive it.
Especially not now, when things were starting to feel... normal.
Normal was spending late nights on the couch with Natasha, arguing over which movie to watch but never finishing them because you’d get caught up in teasing each other. Normal was training together and catching her smiling at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Normal was her throwing playful jabs about how you talked too much, only to call you out on being unusually quiet when something was bothering you.
You weren’t sure when things had shifted, but somewhere along the way, the time you spent with her had become the highlight of your day. And judging by the way she always seemed to find excuses to stay close, you thought maybe—just maybe—she felt the same way.
Neither of you had said anything yet, though. It was comfortable, whatever this was, and you didn’t want to ruin it.
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The quinjet hummed softly as the team prepared for the mission. Hydra remnants were regrouping, and the team had been sent to intercept a high-level target.
You were double-checking your gear when Natasha sauntered over, a sly smile already playing on her lips.
"You know," she said, leaning casually against the wall beside you, "I’ve noticed you spend an awful lot of time fussing over that utility belt. Got a secret stash of candy in there or something?"
You snorted, pulling a strap tighter. "Jealous I don’t share my snacks with you, Romanoff?"
"Please," she shot back, tilting her head. "If I wanted candy, I’d just take it," she shrugged her shoulders, "I always get what I want."
You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try."
She stepped closer, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, or I might have to prove it."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "You’re all talk."
"Am I?" She reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of your belt, and for a split second, your heart skipped a beat. But instead of taking anything, she smirked and stepped back, clearly enjoying the way you were watching her.
"Tease," you muttered, pretending to focus on your gear again.
"You make it too easy," she quipped, crossing her arms.
Before you could come up with a comeback, Steve’s voice cut through the moment. "Gear up. We’re heading out in five."
Natasha straightened but didn’t move immediately. Instead, she leaned in just enough for only you to hear. "Try to keep up out there, rookie."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. "Try not to get distracted, Romanoff."
She laughed softly as she walked away, the sound lingering in the air long after she was gone.
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Though successful the mission had been thoroughly chaotic, to say the least. Things had been going smoothly until Natasha went off-script.
You hadn’t even known what was happening at first. One second, you were covering her six, and the next, she was gone, chasing intel Fury and Maria Hill had deemed critical. It left you in a tight spot, trying to hold your ground without her, and you’d taken a few hits you shouldn’t have.
By the time the mission wrapped, you were sore, bruised, and too exhausted to joke around like you usually would. The tension on the jet ride back to the compound was thick, everyone keenly aware that Steve was seething.
The hanger was suffocatingly tense as the quinjet’s ramp descended with a mechanical hiss, and everyone piled out, the weight of the mission hanging heavily in the air. Conversations were sparse—exhaustion mingled with the unspoken tension. You were still catching your breath, the fight replaying in your mind, when Steve’s voice broke the silence.
“Romanoff, we need to talk.”
You glanced at Natasha, who was walking beside you. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t stop, striding toward the hangar floor like she hadn’t heard him.
“Natasha.” Steve’s voice carried more force this time.
She stopped, turning around slowly, her face calm but her eyes sharp. “What?”
Steve’s expression was stony as he marched toward her. “What the hell was that back there?”
“The part where we got the job done?” Natasha shot back, her voice icy.
“The part where you ignored orders and jeopardized the team,” he countered, standing toe-to-toe with her now.
You stepped closer instinctively, but for now, you stayed silent, your fists clenching at your sides.
“I didn’t jeopardize anyone,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “I prioritized the bigger picture. Fury and Maria needed that intel, and I got it.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Fury and Hill aren’t the ones in the field. We are. And when you decide their priorities are more important than this team, you’re not just making a bad call—you’re making a selfish one.”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t look away. “I made a call that benefited everyone in the long run. You might not like it, but it worked.”
“Did it?” Steve snapped, gesturing toward you. “Because they almost didn’t make it out thanks to you.”
Your chest tightened as his words hit. “That’s not fair, Steve,” you said, stepping in now.
He turned on you, his voice rising. “It is fair. You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t dragged you into her little side mission.”
“That’s enough,” you said, your voice low.
But Steve ignored you, his focus still on Natasha. “You know, it’s always the same with you. You play both sides, keep everyone guessing. It worked for you in the Red Room, maybe even with S.H.I.E.L.D., but here? That doesn’t fly. We’re supposed to be a team, but you’re still looking out for yourself first.”
The mention of the Red Room made your blood run cold. You saw the flicker of something in Natasha’s expression—a crack in her armor.
“Watch your mouth,” you said, stepping in front of her now, your voice dangerously calm, as you met Captain America eye level.
Steve’s gaze snapped to you, his frustration redirected. “Stay out of this.”
“No,” you said firmly. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”
“Or what?” Steve challenged, jaw tightened, his temper bubbling over as took a step closer, eyes blazing with anger.
The moment he moved, you acted. Your hand shot out, gripping his wrist and twisting with precision. With a sharp pivot of your hips, you flipped him over your shoulder. The impact reverberated through the hangar as Steve crashed into a nearby crate, shattering it into splinters.
The hangar went silent, the sound of the crash echoing in the vast space.
Steve was already scrambling to his feet, his eyes blazing with disbelief and fury. Bucky intercepted him, gripping his shoulder and holding him back
“Steve, don’t,” Bucky said, his voice firm but calm.
Natasha was in front of you before you could react, her hands pressing against your chest as she pushed you back. “Enough,” she said, her voice low but forceful.
You froze, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train.
You glanced around the hangar, catching the wide-eyed stares of your teammates. The expressions on their faces weren’t just shocked—they were scared. Of you.
Your gaze landed on Natasha last. Her green eyes were glassy, her brows furrowed with confusion and something that looked too much like hurt.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. Then you turned and walked away, your boots echoing in the silence of the hangar as you disappeared into the compound.
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The rooftop felt like the only place you could breathe. The cool night air bit at your skin as you sat on the ledge, your hands gripping the metal railing.
What the hell had you done? You’d spent so long trying to prove you weren’t the weapon Hydra made you, but one moment of anger had torn that facade apart.
“Hell of a move back there.”
You didn’t have to look to know it was Natasha. Her voice was light, but there was an edge of something else—concern, maybe.
“Didn’t mean to wreck the crate,” you muttered, still staring out at the city lights.
She walked over, her steps soft, and leaned against the railing beside you. “The crate’s fine. Steve, on the other hand…”
You huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, bet he’s thrilled.”
She didn’t respond immediately, just studied you with that piercing gaze of hers. “Why’d you do it? he was right, I left you out there."
You sighed, finally meeting her eyes. "I would've been fine Tasha, and I know you know that," you looked down to your lap, "besides I couldn’t stand the way he was talking to you. Like you haven’t done more for this team than anyone.”Her expression softened, and for a moment, the world felt a little less heavy. “I don’t care about your past, Nat,” you said quietly. “And I’ll be damned if I let anyone throw it in your face.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile as she reached out, her hand brushing yours. “You’re not who they made you either, you know.”
You looked at her, and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe you hadn’t completely lost yourself.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t have to fight for me," her gaze dropping to your lips as you both began to lean in, " but thank you for doing it anyway," her breath fanned across you. Before you could reply, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was well over do. Her lips were soft against yours, warm and grouding in a way that made everything fade away.
When she pulled back, she smiled—a real, genuine smile. “Now let’s go figure out how to apologize to Steve.”
You groaned, but for the first time that night, you felt like everything might just be okay.
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https-lvesick · 4 months ago
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“YOU BELONG WITH ME…” | nct dream on your wedding day!
❪ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ❫ 𝒞 𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. how the boys react to you walking down the aisle. nct dream x fem!reader. and a big thanks to my pookie @winwintea for helping me with this!
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MARK LEE
mark would be shaking for his life. like, he couldn’t believe he was about to marry you, the girl of his dreams. the light of his day. the person he will always look forward to have in his life. when he realises you’re taking too long to show up, intrusive thoughts immediately flood his mind.
“what if she gave up on this wedding?”
“what if she regretted everything and right now she’s taking the first flight to… wherever?”
he feels his breath starts to get shallow and tears prick up his eyes. mark dries his sweaty palms on his pants and asks renjun: “is she really coming?”
“dude, stop, for god’s sake. i know it’s your wedding, but please. for the last time, she is indeed coming!” renjun was visibly annoyed. that might be the tenth time he’s asking the same thing. “mark, that woman loves you more than you even love yourself. she would never in a million years leave you.” the younger male sighs, seeing his friend’s pleased smile.
“thanks, dude…” mark sighs, more relaxed.
“you better name your kids after me, ‘cause i’m not doing all this shit for nothing.” renjun jokes, nudging the anxious groom. he checks his phone once again and smiles. “seems that your girl is coming. ready to be a married man?”
“more than ever.”
the gates are closing. the wedding march is playing. the guests are standing up. and mark feels like he will faint any moment. but as soon as he saw you, his mind went blank.
how could you get even more endearing? the white dress, the one he swore he’d be designing only for you had some minor changes, but that made you even more perfect. your makeup, your hairstyle, fuck… even the bouquet in your hand. everything was used to accentuate your beauty. the beauty that only his woman, the one and only mrs. lee could have. mark didn’t even notice he was crying until jeno handed him a cloth. he accepted and tried to dry his tears, but it was useful.
when you were handed to him, he pecked your hands and praised you.
mark was always sure that you were the one. he realised that when you left a family gathering in another town only to take care of him when he was sick. you made sure to keep him nice and comfortable and didn’t even care if you got sick too. that moment he realised he wanted you with him forever.
and now you’re ready to say the most expected “i do.”
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HUANG RENJUN
renjun is the calmest. he’s sure you love him and he does the very same, if not more. all he can do is close his eyes, take a breath and picture you. the perfect you walking down that aisle towards him in white. he can’t even tell how he’s going to react to you. the only thing he knows is that he’ll keep that memory forever: the day you’ll turn into mrs. huang.
“i can’t believe i’m here… sitting and watching the love of my life getting married to a… a… woman.” donghyeok whines, pouting.
“you shut up. if it wasn’t for my woman, you wouldn’t even be here.” renjun hisses, fixing his tie. a leash would be better than this thing.
“oh, so she made sure i was here to watch her steal my man? bro, i’m gonna have a talk with this bride.” he checks his phone and stands up. the other guys just roll their eyes, watching hyeok walk away.
“do you feel nervous?” jisung asks, handing him a glass of water.
“well, even though i know things will go as planned and i’ll be a married man in a few minutes… it’s my wedding, you know, so yeah, i’m nervous.” renjun drinks the water, patting the younger’s shoulder. “but… do you think she’s ready and that’s why haechan was checking his phone or something went wrong…”
“no. no, no, okay. there’s nothing wrong. i’m sure that in a few minutes, your bride will show up there and you’ll say the ‘i do’ and live happily with your babies. now, don’t. overthink.” jisung squeezes his shoulders and takes the glass from his friend’s hand.
renjun only murmurs a “right”.
the boys were going to their positions and the guests stood up. when the song started to play, renjun couldn’t think of anything besides why so many people before my wife?
and when you showed up in his sight, he was taken aback. his heart skipped a beat when you walked slowly towards him. he was speechless, poor man, didn’t even notice he was deadfaced. a rush of emotions hit him like a truck, but somehow, he couldn’t express any of them at the moment. you, on the other hand, were worried about why your soon-to-be-husband was not smiling or giggling or anything? he was just standing there.
“baby, are you fine?” the moment when he hears your voice, he blinks a few times before smiling and taking you from donghyeok.
“i am. it’s just… i don’t think i’ve ever seen such a gorgeous sight before. you’re absolutely stunning. not only today but always.”
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LEE JENO
jeno would be calm like it was an ordinary tuesday in his life. since the time he woke up, he thought about you and your future and he couldn’t be happier. you were about to be his ‘til death do you part, why would he be so nervous to see you?
“is he fine?” jisung asked jaemin. both of them watching their friend smile dumbly at nothing.
“i… guess… well he’s happy, isn’t he? he’s about to get married.” jisung scrunches his nose, walking to the goom.
“are you spending your best smile when your wife is not even here?” the younger teases him and jeno immediately deadpans.
“are you sure you don’t wanna see my downfall every time you think of me?” jeno asks, making the other stick his tongue at him. the groom laughs warmly, ruffing the youngest’s hair. “i can’t believe i’ll be a part of your family.”
“i can’t believe my sister is a traitor. giving up on our name like that to… take after yours…”
“you know what, i should’ve taken your name off of the guest list.” jeno teases.
“i dare you.”
minutes passed and the guests were all standing up. jeno was already standing, waiting for you. jisung was missing because he was the one walking down with you. and when the music starts to play, jeno’s heart starts to race. he thought he would be so fine, but how can he? it’s his wedding. with the woman of his life.
the moment his eyes connected with yours, he was speechless. that may be the most graceful sight he’s ever seen. he knew anything would look good on you, but this? your wedding dress makes you look like you just came from heaven to please his eyes.
he can’t say a word when you’re handed to him, all jeno can do is to let some tears fall and mutter “i love you more than anything.”
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LEE DONGHYEOK
donghyeok would be so nervous, like, he was shaking. many intrusive thoughts have been plaguing his mind recently, but you made sure to make him as confident as possible. somehow, he couldn't help but think about it. he took a deep breath and thought about you. your smile, your words of affirmation, you. the simple mention of your name, the mere thought he had about you was enough to make him calm himself.
“uhm… haechan…” mark approached him, holding his phone.
the groom shivered to hear his best friend’s tone. “what happened?”
“i think your wife is going crazy. may you please talk to her?” he handed his phone to the younger, who had his eyes open, hesitating to take the phone. “bro, i might be committing a fucking wedding crime here letting you both talk when you’re not done yet. do it.” mark shook his hand in front of donghyeok’s face.
“hi, baby.” his voice was kind of worried.
“love…” your voice softens listening to him. “why are we taking so long? i wanna see you…” the same way you could hear his smile, he could hear your pout.
“i know, my sun. i’m dying to see you too, but you need to get ready, huh? get all pretty for me…”
“but i am ready!” you whine, sighing. “i have my dress on, heels, and makeup done. i don’t need anything else! i don’t wanna sit and wait for more to have a hairstyle. you gonna mess it anyways…” you murmur the last part, making him chuckle.
“then you don’t need a hairstyle. you know i’ll find you pretty regardless. you could show up here naked and you’d be the prettiest.” donghyeok wiggles his brows.
“oh, and you’d let other people see your wife naked?” you question, jokingly, and he answers deadpan.
“never. you’re mine.” you chuckle on the other side and he can hear someone calling you. “see, you’re making people wait, do it how you want it. i’ll be here waiting for you.”
donghyeok handed the phone to its owner and he was visibly more relaxed. “ready to go?” mark asked, fixing his tie.
“sure.” and they headed to the wedding place.
when the music started to play, donghyeok was anxious. he could picture your beauty like always, but you never fail to impress him like always. he stood there, waiting for you with eyes closed, deep breathing.
when his eyes opened and he could see you, he could tell two things: first, you were as anxious as him and second, you were a goddess. he was more than right in being completely obsessed with you. how could he not? when you made him the happiest man alive, when you lit up his day when it seemed like everything was going wrong, when you fucking gave him life.
his eyes were wide open, just like his mouth. and being himself, what would be a donghyeok thing he could do there? kneel. right in front of you, like you were some kind of divine creature. and you were.
“can you please stand up? how dare you embarrass me at our wedding?” you scold him, pulling him to stand up. oh, and when you scold him? he loves it!
“just… please promise you’ll never ever leave me. i cook, i clean, i kiss your feet, but never let me live without you. i promise to never make a mistake and to make you happy for our eternity and if you want i can even birth our chil-”
“lee donghyeok, shut up.”
“yes, ma’am.” he takes your hand and you peck his lips.
“i love you more than anything. i could never leave you.” you whisper on his lips, making him smile big.
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NA JAEMIN
jaemin is so calm, that the boys almost think he has lost it. from minute to minute, he was smiling to himself and petting the cats, chatting with the guests and enjoying his time “alone” because the moment you show up and start walking towards him, his focus will be solely on you, like all the time.
“okay, so when mommy shows up, you just sit here, right? i know you all love her more than me, and i do too, but you don’t want mommy to trip on you, huh?” jaemin explains to the three white furballs sitting on the little benches he bought them.
“i can’t believe you brought these three troublemakers.” renjun approaches him, petting lucy.
“they’re our kids, how could i not? and chenle brought daegal…” he points to the dog messing with the flowers.
“right… she’s the worst.” renjun accepts. “how do you think she will be today?”
“gorgeous… as always.” jaemin replies in a blink of an eye, smiling to himself. “you know… i’ve always dreamt of this moment since i met her, but now… i just want this fucking time to speed up, ‘cause, damn, i just wanna be with my wife.” he jokes, giggling with his friend.
“you’ll have your whole life, jaem.” he pats his friend’s shoulder. “oh, and your mother asked me to tell you: you better enjoy this party with the guests for, at least, thirty minutes, ‘cause if she notices you and your wife are missing, she’s coming at you. so no babymaking at the party, please, mr. na.”
“but thirty minutes is so long…” he whines and pouts. “how am i supposed to control myself knowing she’s all mine for eternity? knowing i’ll wake up to her by my side every day. knowing she’s already carrying my baby, huh?” jaemin wiggles his eyebrows, causing the other male to gasp.
“she’s what?” renjun says out loud and the groom just shuts him, dismissing curious glances.
“surprise renjunnie, you’re gonna be an uncle.” he smiles widely. “but… care you to keep it a secret until my wife announces it? she’s been planning the perfect moment for weeks.” the other nods, still being shut by his friend. “right.” he checks renjun’s watch. “she may be coming. time to get married, lil’ bro!” he squeezes renjun’s shoulders, pets his cats and stands up, preparing himself.
less than five minutes later, there you were. in white, makeup and hair done nicely, holding your bouquet, and just… endearing. how could he have found the most perfect woman in his life? and he’s about to be yours until death do you part.
it was only you. you and him. forget about the music, guests, family, friends, and the place you were. it was just you and him in your own world. the heaven. his eyes were watching you with such love and his wide grin could never be wiped off. for him, you were his goddess, his muse, and every single thing you do is a reason to make him fall in love even more.
the moment you got close to him, jaemin took your hands and planted a chaste kiss on both, before pecking your forehead.
“i have no words to describe what i’m feeling right now, but you are the woman i’ve always dreamt of, and i’m more than glad you let me be yours.”
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ZHONG CHENLE
chenle would be proud of himself. of where he is right now, about to create his own family. you are his everything and he couldn’t be more happy about marrying the love of his life. he’d be thinking of you the entire time. he even texted you – what he “shouldn’t”, but did anyways, ‘cause he couldn’t be away from you for two days. he could be all calm outside, but his mind was thinking nonstop. he’d often pet daegal to calm himself.
“you fine?” jisung approaches him, fixing his cufflinks.
“more than i thought i would.” he smiles, still keeping daegal, who was wearing a light blue dress, in his arms.
“do you need something?” the younger asks.
“her. that’s the only thing i need right now. i swear, jisung, if she doesn’t show up in, like, five minutes, i’m gonna combust.” chenle sighs, glancing at the door. he couldn’t wait anymore. he just needs you with him. he just needs his wife.
“ningning spared us an update. she’s ready, crying tears of joy and… gorgeous.” jisung smiles along with his friend.
“i know that. i don’t even need to look at her to know it. she has always been gorgeous, ji. you don’t… shit, you don’t get it. i can’t even describe how much i love to watch her, even when she’s just waking up, she’s the most beautiful sight i’ve ever got to see.” chenle says with dreamy eyes and a silly smile decorating his lips.
“i knew you were head over heels for her, but this… is another level.” jisung rolls his eyes, tapping his best friend’s shoulder. “she’s coming. be ready.”
and he was. he was more than ready to have you as mrs. zhong, by his side for your whole life.
the moment the gates open and you show up, his eyes widen. and there, the realisation hits him hard. he is about to get married to the woman he loves the most. he is about to start his own family. chenle can’t help but let some tears fall from his eyes. you are his happiness and he’s more than sure of that.
“i…” he lets his words die on the tip of his tongue. “i want you to know that you make me the happiest man in the world every day. from the time you wake up, to the time you sleep, you’re always by my side and i’m grateful for having you as now my wife.” chenle pecks your forehead, making you cry even more of joy.
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PARK JISUNG
jisung would be in undeniable despair. boy would be so nervous he had fainted like two times before going to your wedding place. he couldn’t believe that out of the others, he was the first to get married, but what to do? he was sure it was you who he wanted in his life forever. you were the love of his life, why wait any more? he just didn’t imagine all of this would be so desperate. but, in fact, he hadn’t much time to get nervous when he had his friends teasing him for life.
“jisung why don’t you sit here, drink this water and try to relax?” renjun asks in a calming voice, handing him a glass of water, which was gladly accepted by the younger.
“i can’t believe our little jisung is getting married before me.” haechan whines, making the groom roll his eyes.
“maybe if you had, at least, a girlfriend you could think of getting married before me.” jisung says in a low tone, standing up.
“wow! hey! why the wildness?” donghyeok scoffs, crossing his arms.
“when she will be here, jaemin?” he asks his friend, who is too busy flirting with one of the guests. “i swear to god… i have useless friends.” jisung murmurs, but renjun clears his throat, clearly disapproving of his opinion, for him at least. “i’m gonna call her.”
“no, no. you can’t do it!” jeno interrupts the younger, who was already taking his phone. “don’t you know it gives you bad luck?”
“you know what else gives bad luck? me not being able to see my wife!” jisung smiles, averting his guest’s curious glances.
“yeah, your wife, man! didn’t even get married and is already claiming her.” chenle cheers, patting the groom’s back, teasing the poor boy.
“i’ll make sure to not invite any of you for our vow renewal.” jisung grits his teeth. “neither our children's birthday, haechan.” he adds, sensing something about to come from the older male.
“and i’m the delusional one… bro is already thinking of children…” haechan says dismissively.
“again, i’m the one getting married. i can think about it.”
“i’m ignoring you right now. you’re getting wilder each day about our love life.”
“if you had one…” mark shows up, catching his best friend’s tantrums. haechan scoffs, looking at the other. “man, you’re ready? she’s about to come.” when these words come out of mark’s mouth, jisung’s eyes just lighten up.
as soon as you show up, jisung can’t help but shed his first tears, that’ll soon turn into a whole sobbing seeing you walking calmly at him. and you can’t help but laugh a little at him. you knew he would cry, but you thought he’d wait a little longer.
“babe, it’s okay…” you say in a soothing voice, drying his tears while caressing his cheeks.
“you think i’m a crybaby now.” he says, sobbing. “but you’re just too beautiful and we’re getting married, i’m so happy.”
“oh, don’t worry love, i knew you were a crybaby from the start.” he deadpans, for a while, his tears stop falling. “and i love you even more for that. you’re sensitive, cute, and the love of my life. i couldn’t have chosen the best husband.” you boop his nome, before pecking it.
“fuck… i love you so much, i’d go to the moon for you.”
308 notes · View notes
nyctoaerah · 8 months ago
Note
TWTWTWTWTWTW: GORE TWTWTWTWTW
Hi, I love the Yandere Gojo series! I'd like to make a request. My request: Yandere Gojo gives his non-sorcerer lover the worst punishment he's ever seen in his life because she keeps trying to run away… he makes her unable to move or run again. either amputation or broken bones. But in the end, he regrets it very much.
⋆♱⋆REMINISCENT
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⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?
⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Yandere (duh) bone breaking, Surgery stuff, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder, Both Reader and Satoru ended up having shared psychosis disorder. Satosugu.
⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Non-sorcerer reader. Satosugu.
⋆♱⋆NOTE: okokok, i know that you didn’t requested satosugu anon, but there’s a reason why there’s satosugu in here, and it’s important in the plot. Hope you understand<3. Broken bones is already a bad punishment, but i’ll add a twist on it;) Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Please do support me in wattpad and quotev too<3 i suck at doing angst, sooo.... Idk.. might make a part 2 though.
MASTERLIST
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HE WASN’T THE MAN that you once knew, no longer the gentle soul who showered you with affection. The bond you shared over four years had been pure, filled with love and warmth, until that cursed night , Twenty fourth of December in 2017.
Satoru’s mental state appeared to deteriorate drastically ever since that day. The once warm and affectionate gaze he used to cast on you had now transformed into a cold and distant stare, devoid of any tender emotions.   
Sometimes he would blame non-sorcerers like yourself too, grumbling things under his breath like
“You non-sorcerers are the reason why suguru went spiraling”
You didn’t grasp the true meaning of this statement until you did a little digging into Satoru’s past. It was then that you realized you had been living in a state of blissful ignorance.
And after learning about his troubles, instead of scolding him for his erratic behavior and pushing him away, you chose to approach him with kindness and understanding—You felt bad, for you would mostly just yell at him for acting like that, when you didn’t knew the reason why he was like that.
You made every effort to comfort him and show him that you cared deeply for him, to show him how apologetic you are for being so ignorant. However, at times, you also confronted him with harsh truths in order to bring him back to reality. 
In these moments of brutal honesty, Satoru took notice of the uncanny similarities between you and Suguru. From the way you conducted yourself to the gestures you made, tie your hair up, everything seemed to echo Suguru’s presence.
The way you spoke, moved, the way your lips would curl up into a smile, the way you would laugh and interacted with others all carried a trace of Suguru’s aura.
And your voice, fuck, the softness of your voice was reminiscent of the way suguru’s voice would soften whenever he talks to satoru.
Despite lacking a clear physical resemblance, the essence of Suguru seemed to radiate from you in all aspects of your actions.
And perhaps, it’s the way that you managed to make him see suguru in you was what made him so obsessed with you. He saw echoes of his beloved friend in your every gesture, your every word. Sometimes, in a strange mixture of jest and earnestness, he would playfully dub you and Suguru, as if to merge the two of you into one entity. Sometimes he would joke about you being suguru’s genderbend.
You found it peculiar yet endearing at first, dismissing it as a harmless quirk borne from grief, as you had always seen it as his coping mechanism. Little did you know, this oversight would prove to be your gravest mistake.
Despite the warning signs he showed, his redflags, you somehow chose to endure it all.
And that was your biggest mistake.
His once-charming gestures now morphed into suffocating constraints, possessiveness, obsessiveness. Slowly but surely, he isolated you from the outside world, severing even the most basic ties of communication with your own family.
Your past talking stage and lovers would be either found dead or missing without any trace. The friends who once stood by your side now regarded you with wary glances, distancing themselves.
Of course, you felt a deep sense of sadness, believing there was a flaw within yourself. And seeking solace and understanding, you opened up to Satoru, shedding tears as you shared the studf that you were facing in your life. In your moments of vulnerability, he offered you comfort, reassuring you that he was all you needed and that you should distance yourself from other individuals. He warned you that these individuals posed a threat to your well-being, emphasizing that their intentions were harmful—and insisting that he was the only one that you need.
As much as you wanted to believe Satoru and trust him completely, your innate intuition stopped you from fully buying into his facade. Because despite his convincing demeanor, a lingering sense of unease tugged at the back of your mind, suggesting that something wasn’t quite right.
Moreover, Satoru showed a tendency to involve himself in even the most mundane of tasks, such as brushing your hair, typically tasks you would manage alone. It seemed as though he viewed you as some kind of doll, someone he could manipulate and control at his own whim. He made sure to always be in close proximity to you, refusing to give you any moments of solitude. The only instances where he allowed you some privacy were during bathing or changing, and even then, he seemed reluctant to leave your side.
His obsession became so intense that he became insistent on your constant presence by his side, whether he was on a mission, teaching, or interacting with colleagues. His students and coworkers all recognized the unhealthy attachment, with Shoko and even Megumi expressing pity towards you for being caught in Satoru’s suffocating love. Despite the visible discomfort from all parties involved, Satoru remained unmoved, justifying his actions to keep you close at all times.
Even when Shoko attempted to reason with him and knock some sense into his fucked up mind, Satoru would manipulate the situation to shift blame onto them, for separating him with suguru—and that they’re the reason why he only has you now.
Nanami also tried to intervene by trying to convince the higher ups to arrange dangerous solo missions for Satoru in hopes of separating you two, but his stubbornness prevailed.
Maki and Nobara also attempted to intervene, even organizing girls’ nights as a means of providing you with a break from Satoru, yet their efforts were futile. 
Ultimately, the support from those aware of the situation—Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, Shoko, Maki, and others—proved futile in alleviating the troubling dynamic with Satoru. Despite their best intentions and efforts, your circumstances remained unchanged due to Satoru's unyielding obsession on keeping you with him.
Everyone knew how fucked up he was, but what can they do?
Satoru is the strongest after all.
Your parents weren’t even aware of your situation, as you were not allowed to talk or visit them.
One instance stands out in your memory, when you attempted to say that you want to speak with your parents, and he adamantly refused, claiming it was too perilous. Despite feeling frustrated at the time, you ultimately acquiesced to his wishes. The following day though, a horrifying discovery awaited you— the lifeless bodies of your parents. It was at this moment that you began connecting the dots, reflecting on the untimely death and murder of your previous partners, the gradual alienation of your friends, the look of pity his students and colleagues gives you, the persistent reasoning of people trying to separate you from satoru, his increasing control over your actions, and the coincidental deaths of those you sought to interact with. 
The realization dawned on you that all of these  events were orchestrated by Satoru himself, with the sole intention of keeping you entirely under his influence. And an overwhelming sense of fear crept into your chest, prompting you to devise a plan to escape while he was on a mission. 
----𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆
Your entire body was engulfed in pain and weariness, each muscles contracting in pain, your breaths labored and shallow as if your lungs were about to give out—About to rupture, and a searing sensation in your chest as it tightens, heaving with each labored breath you took.
Your feet were raw and bloody, multiple cuts on it from the jagged edges of rocks you have stepped on, perspiration was all over your body in rivulets, and a dry, scratchy feeling in your throat due to lack of moisture and oxygen.
Everything burned, yet you persisted in moving forward, walking a fine line between imminent collapse and the urgent need to evade getting caught by Satoru—your boyfriend.
Rather than face capture, you were willing to risk death in your desperate attempt to escape.
You’d rather die trying to escape than live without trying to fight for your freedom.
The exhaustion consuming you mattered little, all that occupied your mind was the need to break free from his grasp and his control over you.
The passage of time was a blur, perhaps an hour had passed since you began running, your energy waning as your vision blurred with fatigue. 
Lost in the vast unknown surroundings, it seemed as though you were trapped in a never-ending loop. Uncertain of your location in Japan, the isolated landscape consisted only of a sprawling mansion, trees, and barren land devoid of any signs of human life. It felt as though you had been completely cut off from civilization.
As you continued running, tears streaming down your face, your mind were spinning and every hair on your body stood on end at the sound of his voice suddenly booming.
“Hm? Is that you that i see there, [Name]?”
You froze.
“What have I told you about leaving without my permission?”
The sound of Satoru's voice sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in your tracks. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to keep moving, to escape his reach, but the fear of his wrath paralyzed you in place.
“S-satoru.. what are you doing here...?” 
You couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to be here when he was supposed to be on a mission. Your mind raced with confusion and disbelief.
“No, what are you doing here?” He asks, staring down at you coldly.
“Are you.. trying to run away?” He questioned you as he stepped closer to you.
Your breath hitched, throat constricting as you looked up at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.
“I-i..”
“I-i wasn’t i swear—”
You were left speechless as you were suddenly shoved you down, causing your head to hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood trickled down your forehead as a cry of pain escaped your throat. 
His gaze bore down on you with a chilling intensity, sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re trying to leave me..”
“I trusted you,” he whispered shakily.
“How could you? I made sure to go back as soon as possible after my mission was finished so that you won’t be in danger... And now you’re running away and putting yourself in danger?”
Out of nowhere, his hand tightly gripped your throat, squeezing with such force that it became difficult to breathe, leading to a sensation of suffocation and a blurred vision.
“S-satoru n-nnh! L-let go!”
Struggling to break free, you frantically attempted to pry his fingers off your neck, letting out choked screams in the process. Your body thrashed around violently, desperately trying to fend him off by kicking in all directions. 
“You’re really just like suguru... always trying to resist..” 
“I trusted you,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice cracking.
“But what have you done?” he asked shakily.
His pupils trembled like leaves in a fierce wind, his entire frame quivering with an unsettling intensity. Those piercing sapphire eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine in the dim, eerie stillness of the forest.
“L-let go p-please satoru!” You begged.
“P-please. A-ahn.. let g-go, ‘Toru, please,”
“T-toru, haaah, i-i c-can’t breathe”
He seemed to pause at that when you called him “Toru.” 
And slowly, his grasp slackened, leaving you gasping for precious breath as your lungs desperately clawed for every molecule of air.
You coughed, again and again and again, and he just watched you.
When you finally managed to catch your breath, you turned to look at him, your face contorted in anger abd fear.
“Y-you’re crazy satoru,” Your voice emerged hoarse and jagged.
“You’re crazy, i swear” You rasped as you dragged yourself away from him, only for him to close the distance.
 “Crazy?” he repeated.
“Yes, crazy for love.” His fervor seemed to border on mania.
“Yes I’m Enamored, Suguru.” he professed with an almost unsettling zeal, his voice now carrying a hauntingly romantic lilt as though the torment he inflicted on you was an act of devotion.
Your breath hitched.
“What...?” your eyes widened.
“I’m not... Suguru...” Your voice faltered, delicate lips quivering. Pain pulsed through every fiber of your being, urging you to run away, yet how could you escape from one so consumed by his own distorted reality? Satoru appeared to be in a haze, his eyes vacant and unseeing—He was in his delusional state.
“Suguru, let’s go home..” Satoru mumbled.
You swallowed thickly. You were about to make a dumb move, but fuck, he really needed to snap out of it.
Gently, you cupped his face between trembling hands, hoping your tender touch might pierce the delirium and make him snap out of it.
“Please, ‘Toru, focus on the sound of my voice. It’s not suguru, it’s me”
But he remained ensnared in his twisted visions, oblivious to reality.
“...Satoru... ‘Toru, listen to me. I’m not suguru.”
“I’m not him. I’m [Name], your girlfriend...”
Again, and again and again, you tried to convince him that you’re not suguru.
“I’m [Name], the one that you met at the bakery that you liked so much... And i’m not suguru ”
You phrased it in different words.
And yet...
He was still lost in it.
“What are you saying suguru?”
Dread constricted your heart, each moment bringing you closer to the brink. To flee would surely send him into a frenzy but to stay would probably result in suffering. 
“Don’t say things like that... Suguru”
he whispered.
“I still haven’t forgave you for running away.” He uttered, and a pit formed on your stomach.
“I’m [Name], not suguru—Toru... Please, fuck, snap out of it”
He ignored you as he gently caressed your cheek before guiding your head towards his for a kiss. Your heart pounded as your lips met, the sharp sting of his teeth on yours making you whimper.
“S’toru... Stop...”
When he didn’t stop, you reacted by biting his tongue hard, making it bleed. Surprisingly, this did not deter him; instead, he released a soft moan of pleasure. 
“Oh fuck... You’re still the same as always, suguru.”
You gasped as he finally pulled away from the kiss.
“Sa-Satoru... What the fuck..?” You shrieked. Why the hell did he said that? Does this meant that... He was in a previous relationship with Suguru? Did he used you as a rebound? No, fuck, he sees suguru in you.
You understand it now.
“I’ll make sure you don’t do it again,” He whispered.
“Huh?”
“Make sure that you don’t massacre a whole ass village again so that they won’t separate you from me...”
Slowly, deliberately, his other hand drifted downward toward your ankle. Your heart drops as you felt him do that.
Oh fuck, he’s not planning on snapping your ankles, is he?
“Satoru, no, no, no, no, no!”
You strained against his crushing hold, but could only witness in horror as his fist closed around the delicate bones.
“If you do that, i’ll never forgive you— AHHH!”
A strangled scream caught in your throat as you felt the unmistakable snap of your ankle splintering beneath his strength.
White-hot pain lanced up your leg and your vision blurred with tears of misery. Before you could process the pain of the first break, his hand was upon your other ankle. You knew what was coming yet were powerless to prevent it. Another sickening crack reverberated through your shattered nerves as satoru callously contorted the joint beyond its limits. Bone fragmented, muscle tore, and ligaments ripped apart, leaving your legs crippled and limp.
----𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍
His fingers pressed insistently beneath your chin, a mixture of gentle caress and firm control as he meticulously groomed your hair, each stroke designed to emulate the exact style of Suguru’s locks.
Tying it back partially, he sought to replicate every minute detail, ensuring you bore an eerie resemblance to his obsession—Suguru. But the true horror lay in his pervasive fixation upon you as Suguru incarnate. He paid face surgeons to sculpt and mold  your face until the reflection in the mirror bore a warped semblance to Suguru’s features, he would drape you in Suguru’s attire and bestowing upon you the very essence of his fucking bestfriend.
And the worst of it all? he managed to find suguru’s daughters and practically forced you to take care of them—like the way suguru would take care of them. Even suguru’s daughters were horrified — yet they were too scared to even refuse.
All of the horrors that he had made you go through broke you completely.
“Perfect,” he murmured with a self-satisfied hum, stepping back to survey his handiwork.
You just sat there, disoriented, and feeling hollow as an empty shell.
Stripped of your true identity and coerced into being someone else you weren’t. The drugs he administered clouded your mind, the brainwashing eroding your sense of self until you could no longer discern who you are. The only thing you knew is that you’re suguru.
It was a bad punishment, real, real bad punishment.
Your identity was snatched, and you were no longer yourself.
He furrows his brow, observing the silence that hangs between you.
“C’mon speak, suguru.” he urges, his gaze piercing into yours.
“Isn’t it perfect?”
Suddenly, a flicker of realization dances in his eyes as they narrow, scrutinizing the subtle yet noticable difference between your eyes and suguru. The shift is imperceptible to most, but to him, it is a glaring anomaly that demands attention.
A smirk curls onto his lips
“Seems like we need to adjust those eyes of yours as well, huh? Don’t you agree, suguru ?” 
Satoru sighed as his calloused fingers tangled themselves in thick ebony locks, pulling your motionless form taut against his chest. An ichor-cold sense of wrongness had settled itself deep in his marrow, its barbs tearing at his insides. 
His beloved Suguru was already here... But... Where is his [Name]?
“Nanako and Mimiko would be upset to see you like this suguru...”
​​​​​RING
RING
Satoru blinked at the sudden shrill clamor emanating from his phone—and he realized that someone was calling him, still cradling your form  against his chest with a singular hand. He took the device from his trousers one-handed, calloused fingers opening his phone.
When at last the lock screen dissolved into view, an icy shiver seized his marrowed bones. 
It was you—in your normal self, kissing him in the cheek, and you two looked very happy.
Why did suddenly felt wrong?
...
... It felt wrong...
So, so wrong.
Why did nostalgia for your genuine self now claw so vehemently at the fissures in his heart, when only Suguru had the right to reside there?  
830 notes · View notes
endieinwonderland · 7 months ago
Text
Let The Light In: Part 1
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Part 2 Part 3
Words: 1,448
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so in the wrong, angst no comfort.
A/N: This is officially the second thing I’ve written, and it marks the beginning of the first series I’ve started. That being said, my ambition doesn’t necessarily match my skill set, so critiques are more than welcome. Thank you for bearing with me! 🙏 😭 ❤️
"Alright, ladies, let's get this show on the road! We need everyone to go to their assigned positions, please! If you've forgotten where you go, check the initials on the tape on the floor to find your spot. We’ll be around in five to remove it and to check the lighting," Charlie's voice booms through a megaphone, slicing through the bustling energy of the gym. 
At her direction, people begin shuffling around at once. The UConn women’s basketball team quickly finds their spots, joking amongst themselves while you and the photography team works around them, trying to make everything perfect.
“Hey C, we need a light in the left corner!" you call out, your voice faltering as you notice a stubborn piece of tape left on the floor.
Rolling your eyes, you kneel to peel it off with a quick tug, adding it to the growing collection in your clenched fist, freezing only momentarily when you see the bold ‘P.B.’ written across it.
‘Shit.’ 
You swivel on your heel, turning away from the woman in front of you before standing and scurrying back to the safety of your monitor.
“All good?” Charlie nudges your shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, all good. We should probably get started.”
She nods, picking up the megaphone again. “Okay, thank you everyone for your patience. We’re all ready! Let’s start with some smiles, okay?” You attach your camera to the tripod before looking back at the monitor. “1..2..3, and get ready for flashes please!” You shout, clicking the shutter button a few times, turning to look at the pictures as they upload to the large screen in front of you.
A few murmurs of "looks good" echo as others look over your shoulder, but something feels off.
Noticing your hesitation, Charlie walks over and looks at the screen before speaking up. “Hey, number 5, can you twist a bit to your left, please? You’re turning away from the group.” 
Recognizing the issue immediately, she calls out to Paige, who keeps her eyes fixed on Charlie as she moves, avoiding your gaze.
“Better?” Asks Charlie.
“Better.”
You return to the camera, taking a few more shots, occasionally shouting out instructions for different facial expressions until you get a thumbs-up from your boss, signaling it’s time to move on to individual shots.
“Okay, starting with last names in alphabetical order, can we please get Ms. Bueckers out first?” 
Seeing her name was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different story. You can’t suppress your reaction this time, your breath catching in your throat.
You hear her before you see her, steps echoing through the gym before standing in front of you for the first time in a year, completely emotionless as she stares directly into the camera, startling you with the indirect eye contact as you look through the lens.
“What are we going for?” she asks, turning to Charlie, completely ignoring your presence.
“Let’s start out serious, and we’ll move on from there?” You can barely hear Charlie’s directions over the ringing in your ears. 
‘You’re a professional, be professional.’ 
You steel yourself before turning to Paige. “Give me a game day face,” she doesn’t look at you when you speak, instead choosing to continue to stare down the camera as if it's committed some personal offense against her. She crosses her arms, drawing her lips into a tight line as you click the shutter a few times.
You’re working on autopilot, taking shot after shot when something stops you, something's wrong. You look up to see Paige's gaze set on you now.  The intensity of her stare unnerving, and you almost feel guilty for having captured it.
Your hesitation and the absence of your shutter clicking doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand taps your shoulder, startling you. Your boss, Leo, is behind you, softly shaking his head. 
“Hey, you can stop. We can’t use these.” You turn to Paige, then back to Leo, a shocked “Why not?” leaving your mouth before you can stop it.
He sighs as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Come look at them with me, please,” he motions, guiding you back to the monitor. 
You clickon the last picture you took and turn back to Leo. “I mean, the lighting's fine, focus is good, I don’t get what’s the matter with it.”
He says nothing in response, instead just leaning over to zoom in on Paige’s face, or rather her eyes which are swimming in unshed tears.
“We can’t use these,” he repeats lowly before turning away from you. 
“Can we get a few shots with Ms. Brady, please?”
You turn back to where Paige had been standing, but she’s no longer there; you barely catch sight of her exiting the gym, Caroline and Azzi hot on her tail. 
“What’s her deal?” Charlie mutters, standing at your side again. Tearing your attention away from the gym doors. 
“Hell if I know,” you reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance before walking back to your camera and turning to face Ice.
“We'll start with a few dribbling shots if that's okay with you?”
The media team quickly snaps back into action, and within six hours, almost everything is done, setting what might genuinely be a new media day record.
Exhausted, you slump down onto the bleachers, hoping to close your eyes for a few moments. But Leo’s hand tapping on your shoulder interrupts you for the second time today .
"We need to have a chat," he says, giving you a stern look. Nodding, you rise to follow your boss back to the monitor where a new picture of Paige is displayed.
"Listen, I'm not sure what the deal was with the first set of pictures you shot, or if her reaction had anything to do with you at all,"  You open your mouth to defend yourself when he raises his hand to stop you. "No, I don’t need to know if something happened between you two, I just need to know if you think she’d be okay with you trying again, because please look at these." He points to the monitor; the pictures aren't bad per se but they are—for lack of a better phrase—lifeless.
Her posing feels forced and the angles aren’t her best. You’ve taken enough photos of her to know what works, and the man photographing her now, Will, simply hasn't captured her effectively.
"We need to be professionals and make sure all the players are comfortable at all times, so I want you to really think about it," Leo finishes before stepping away, leaving you alone at the monitor, staring as new pictures of the blonde appear on the screen, each one worse than the last.
"Charlie!" you call out, waiting for her to approach.
"What do you think of these?"
She glances at the photos and shrugs, "I love Will, but you could do better."
"Leo thinks I should try again."
She tries, but fails to hide her surprise, "Are you sure Paige would be okay with that?"
Shrugging, you reply "I don't see why not; we didn't have a falling out, she just stopped talking to me."
After a pause, you add, "But I will speak to Will first to see if we can fix this without me behind the camera."
Charlie nods and goes to fetch Will, who is at your side in moments, eager to leave his camera -or rather, eager to leave Paige.
“You should be taking these," he insists before lowing his voice to a  whisper, "She's tough to work with." 
At this, you have to suppress a laugh; you know Paige’s capabilities well, she knew how to work a camera, it almost is impossible to take a bad picture of her.
"Have you tried letting her move during the shoot? Start with serious expressions; she starts goofing around after 15 minutes, and you'll miss the good shots. Then again, she'll probably be more professional with you than she was with me."
Will rolls his eyes, "I've tried everything." He motions back to his camera, “You should just give it another go."
After a brief motivational speech from Charlie and Will you resign yourself, approaching the camera once more.
“Is it okay if I try?” you find yourself asking softly, speaking to Paige properly for the first time in months.
She stares at you like a deer caught in headlights before quickly composing herself. A weak “yeah” is the only response you get, and it’s enough for you to feel comfortable quickly re-adjusting the camera and taking the first successful picture of Paige today.
She responds to you instantly, a forced grin quickly spreads across her face as you give a thumbs up, signaling for her to change poses. You both quickly fall into your old routine.
15 minutes in, you're constantly adjusting Will’s camera as she moves around, dribbling a ball, crossing her arms, and giving the camera a fierce look, then grinning ear to ear, her movements well-rehearsed from years of experience in front of your lens.
You only stop when an excited “We got it, guys!” is heard over the sounds of your shutter.
Leo, turns the monitor towards you where what might end up being one of the best pictures you’ve ever taken of her is displayed on the bright screen.
Before you can stop yourself, you’ve turned towards Paige, a proud smile stretched across your face. “Good job!” 
A brief nod is all you get in response before she mutters a quick “thanks” in your direction.
The rest of the media team receives much more sincere thank yous, and she exits the gym quickly, leaving you alone to wonder the same question that always plagues you after seeing her: ‘What the hell happened to us?’
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