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#because we’re being given so much and yet so little
tenebrous-academic · 4 months
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About the previous anon. I agree that we did get something but felt like we didn't get anything (?) to indicate their relationship status. I'm not wording this correctly. I mean we know they've been together for a while, *possibly* spending the night at eo's, but at the same time buck haven't talked about tommy apparently? (Idk if it's just bobby or the 118).
It feels like they're still in the testing things out/dating area and not boyfriends just yet, which is fine really.
But I'm hoping the hospital scene is gonna be a step for them getting closer, tommy being there for buck to relay on and get the support and comfort from him. It's gonna be a waste not to use this scene to advance their relationship.
I really hope next episode provides some solid information as to their canon status too! But buckle up because I’m about to overanalyze the fuck out of the scenes we did get:
Based off of this episode, I think it’s safe to say they’ve been seeing each other for at least a few months. During the award ceremony it was mentioned the cruise ship disaster happened “last March.” I didn’t see anything showing what month it current is, but based off the wording we can at least assume enough time has passed for it to be considered last year and not “this March.” That gives the relationship at least 3-5 months depending on how long it took Buck to work up to courage to call Tommy for the first tour of the harbour.
Buck and Tommy have also been together long enough for Tommy to feel comfortable enough to talk about how he was treated by Captain Gerrard and, likely, how he behaved around Chim and Hen back then. I wish we could have actually seen that, as well as the scenes between Tommy, Chim, and Hen hashing things out to make sure there’s no bad blood, but all we have are these new interactions showing all of them as friends now and the past firmly behind them.
But!!! What we did get this episode!
Buck softly signing when he sees Tommy getting his award and beaming like a proud partner.
Buck and Tommy being in sync as they walk around the station together.
Buck giving his bitchiest glare to Gerrard and putting his body between his man and that piece of filth (Chim is iconic for that new nickname).
We also get Buck shown as Tommy’s family/loved one during the ceremony. A clear pattern is established with Hen getting her medal and Karen and the kids clapping, Chimney getting his medal and Maddie clapping, and then Tommy getting his medal and the camera panning over to Buck as he breathes deeply and glows in pride for Tommy. (I also acknowledge that Eddie is shown after Buck gets his medal, but the show has established that Eddie and Chris are family to Buck so I don’t think there’s anything to shippy about it).
He hasn’t talked to Bobby about it, and we don’t know if he’s been talking to anyone else, but we do know that it’s not a secret. That hospital kiss was his announcement and maybe he’s happy with that being the extent of it. I think Buck is the kind of person to keep his happiness to his chest a little bit longer to make sure that it’s his and not everyone else’s. Which I know goes against his past relationships and how he’s always talked about them - but Tommy feels different, so the way Buck would treat their relationship would be different too. It’s something he was to protect and nurture and he doesn’t feel the need to ask his family about it because he already knows the answers.
So, yeah, definitely not as much as I would have liked, but the pieces of their relationship ship we did get were pretty indicative of something solid and meaningful being built between them. I’m crossing every finger the finale gives us more though. We’re being given scraps and I think we’re all going a little feral over the lack of anything truly substantial.
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hoshigray · 7 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~
and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~
prev story » ❤︎
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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”
“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”
“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”
You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 
It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.
Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.
But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.
However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.
But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 
And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 
“Y/n!”
Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 
“Y/n...”
But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 
“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“
“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 
You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.
You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”
“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.
“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”
And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 
The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.
“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.
“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“
“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“
“Did he tell you what he said to me?”
“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 
“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”
Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“
“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.
“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”
You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"
“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“
“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“
“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”
“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?
“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”
Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”
“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”
“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”
And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 
“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”
He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 
“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”
“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”
“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 
“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”
“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”
It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 
But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.
“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 
Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 
From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 
Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 
And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.
BZZZR!! BZZZR!!
However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 
It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—
“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.
“Hi…..Where are you?”
“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”
“In the bathroom.”
“You sitting on the toilet?”
You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”
“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”
“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“
“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”
Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”
“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”
“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”
“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 
“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”
“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“
“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 
He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 
“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”
“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”
“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 
You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.
As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.
You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 
“Huh?”
“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”
The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”
“Gojo—“
“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.
You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 
“….”
“…Gojo?”
“….”
“Gojo? Are you still—“
“I like you.”
Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.
There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.
He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.
“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.
“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”
“How long ago is that?”
“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”
“…Why?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you like me? 
You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 
You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 
“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”
You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”
“Huh!? Why??”
“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”
“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”
“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”
“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”
“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”
He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  
“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”
KA-BANG-BANG!!
You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.
“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”
“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“
“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 
Huh!? “A date??”
“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”
“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“
“We could skip—“
“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 
“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”
For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”
It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 
Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 
“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”
“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”
“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”
Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”
“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”
“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”
“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”
“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”
“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”
“Goodbye, Gojo.”
“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“
CLICK!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 
As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.
What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.
You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.
“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”
“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 
And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.
“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 
“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 
“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”
“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”
Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 
And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”
“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.
After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 
However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 
Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.
“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 
Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”
He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 
You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”
“You just saying that to agree with me?” 
“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.
He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:
“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”
He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—
“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”
Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”
You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”
“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”
Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”
“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”
The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”
When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.
Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 
This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.
So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 
His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.
He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”
He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 
But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 
You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 
When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 
“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.
“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”
You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.
“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.
Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”
That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.
He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.
“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.
“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.
His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 
You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 
He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.
“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”
You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”
Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.
Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.
“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”
You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.
“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“
“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”
“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”
“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”
Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 
And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 
“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”
Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 
Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 
He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 
The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.
He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”
“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 
“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”
Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”
“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”
“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 
He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”
“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.
“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”
“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”
“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”
“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“
“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”
It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.
After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!
Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 
Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.
Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.
And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 
You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“
“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 
“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“
“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 
You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 
“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! �� don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”
On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”
“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 
With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 
You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“
“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”
“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.
Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”
“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”
Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”
Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?
“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”
Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“
“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”
“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”
The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.
Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”
“Gojoooo….”
Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 
“SATORUUUU!!!”
You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.
“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”
“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”
And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 
It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.
And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.
 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.
“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”
“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”
And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
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Hii!
(If you’re not up for it simply ignore. I love your work and hope you’re happy and healthy and taking care of your own mental health ❤️)
The bat boys with a reader who has really low days and really just wants to be held?
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I just wanted an excuse to add Kyle Rayner as a bonus cuz I’ve been wanting to write something for him but dunno what. Plus I’ve been needing something like this after the week I’ve just had lol.
Dick would smile softly as he held you in his arms, tightening his grip on you as he peppers you in kisses however he could.
He knew that days like these were the hardest for you and he wasn’t going to hold it against you, not in the slightest as he would softly hum a song to you as he carried you to your shared bed, Hayley hot on his heels as she was worried about your change of attitude.
Speaking of Hayley, she never leaves your side, in fact when she sees Dick hold you against him , she immeditly joins in and tries to wriggle her way in between you both in hopes of covering your face in comforting licks. She wants to see you happy and she’ll gladly cuddle up with you if that’s the only way to do it.
Dick would spoil you rotten with cuddles, kisses and words of encouragement when you felt as though all hope was lost, for the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though no one had you back when he did this entire time of being together.
‘You’re amazing baby and I’m so fucking proud of you, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise you otherwise because you outshine them without having to try.’ He says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Dick would gladly make a fool of himself if it was to make you feel better but holding you, kissing you, and praising you will have to do for the meantime as he could hope that he has given you the strength needed to get out of this dark place that you’ve found yourself in.
He believes you can do it but until then he’ll gladly hold you until you could stand on your own two feet again.
Jason doesn’t need to be told twice as he was well aware of what you want the moment you came through the door of your shared bedroom.
‘Come here sweetheart.’ He would say as he sets aside his book and held out his arms for you to burrow into as you rested your head on his chest, arms latching onto his waist with an iron like grip.
He didn’t need to ask about the day you’ve had for he could feel the fatigue and weariness within your body and the deep sigh that left your lips that told him you have been holding in for a long while. Your body practically radiated with tiredness in all its forms that made it impossible for him to ignore even if he tried.
‘Rest your heavy head and your weary eyes chipmunk,’ he tells you as he begins to rub up and down your back soothingly, ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up, so just relax for me okay?’
You hummed out a small and a tad muffled ‘okay’ and Jason presses a kiss to the side of your head as he tightens his hold on you. He’d even read passages of his book to you in hopes the tit would take your mind off of things quicker as he knew how much you liked the sound of his voice.
Jason knows there’s want much he could do when you experienced days like these but all he could hope was that he was making enough of an effort to make you feel just that little bit better.
Tim makes sure he has everything you could ever need during days like these such as your favourite plushie, blanket, comfort foods, and some water just to name a few as he wants you to be comfortable and taken care of if he was to not be moving away from the bed anytime soon as he held you in his arms.
He just wants you to be okay and doesn’t want you run in on an empty stomach.
‘We’re human, we have limitations and breaking points that tell us to stop and take a break for ourselves, but yet we have been made to think that we shouldn’t and that we should neglect our health and well-being for temporary achievements and successes; almost as if that’s the only thing that should mean something to us.’ Tim tells you as he cuddles you against his chest as a movie played on his laptop as background noise.
‘You’ve done so well for yourself and now your more then deserving of a rest, we’ll return to reality in our own time, we’ve got enough of it that it shouldn’t matter whether we’re still here an hour or two later.’ Tim continues as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
And he meant it, Tim didn’t care how kind he’d have to wait for you to get better because he understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy, having had shit days where he couldn’t be bothered to bring himself to do anything other then lay in his bed, wondering to himself about what he could’ve done to feel such deep pain and isolation.
He knew that it would take time for you to feel even remotely better and even when you did you’ll still need all the help you can possibly get, and he’ll be there for as long as you’ll need him there too.
Damian isn’t well versed in the art of comforting someone but with you, suddenly he’s an expert as he lets you flop against his side as he holds you protectively.
He doesn’t trust his words enough to bring you any comfort as he wasn’t given much himself when he was growing up, so Damian instead just lets you cling onto him and watch in silence as he draws whatever in his sketchbooks: in this instance it was quick sketch of you, him and all of his pets on a field somewhere.
Damian knew his drawings were somewhat therapeutic to you as you got to watch him go through every step he took to make the perfect drawing, no matter if it was heavily detailed or less so, that and he was proud of his artwork that he doesn’t mind showing you some of his precious works and telling you the stories behind them.
Titus joins you, obviously, as he could tell something was wrong with you and will lay in your lap to provide you with some comfort until he’s fallen fast asleep, rendering it impossible for you to move but you didn’t care and neither did Damian as you were surly to follow the Great Dane into dream land where you would be laying in that field that Damian drew.
You were a lot more stronger then you let yourself believe in Damian’s eyes but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more then content in holding you in comfortable silence until you felt better, even if it was just a little bit but even then Damian was determined to outdo himself and find other ways of helping you no matter what.
He just wants to see that smile he loved so much again that told him that everything was going to be okay.
Random Bonus character: Kyle Rayner
Kyle hates seeing you so down and will do absolutely anything and everything he could even if it meant only getting a little smile out of you he’d take it wholeheartedly!
Anything was better then that distant, solemn look on your face as you stared out the window as though life didn’t look as bright or pleasant anymore as it did before.
He’d conjure up anything your heart desired if that helped even by the smallest amount, any amount of progress was better then none. Kyle just wants to see your eyes light up again with childlike wonder again, even if it was momentarily.
However he doesn’t mind if him holding you in his arms was the only way to achieve such a thing as he could keep you close and squeeze you tightly as he tries to pour everything encouraging into your ears in low hushed whispers.
‘You’ll be okay,’ Kyle begins, ‘whether that’s within days, weeks or even months, you’ll be okay. You’re not missing out on anything nor are you going about life at a slower pace compared to others, you’re going at your own pace and that’s okay, you’ll get where you need to be in due time so there’s no point in rushing yourself to get there quicker.’
Kyle would even do some silly little doodles for you just to hear you chuckle or even let out an amused huff. He’d gladly make himself look silly if it meant brining a little light to your heart and life back into your eyes.
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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader
Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?
Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some injury detail.
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“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”
Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.
Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.
Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.
“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”
“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”
“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”
“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.
He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.
Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.
He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.
Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?
He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.
“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”
Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”
“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”
“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”
“I’m not saying that, Az—”
“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”
“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”
“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”
“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”
Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.
He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.
And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”
“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”
Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”
“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”
Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.
“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”
As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”
That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.
Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”
Az says again, “Fuck you.”
Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”
“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.
“Where are you going?” Az asks.
“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”
He has no idea how right he is.
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It starts with the fire going out. Always.
The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.
You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.
Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.
Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.
Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.
But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.
“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.
“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”
It.
“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”
“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”
You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.
Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”
The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”
You do not move.
“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”
They laugh at that.
You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”
He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.
“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”
If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.
“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”
“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”
There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.
“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”
You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.
You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.
You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.
“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”
And then they begin hacking at your wings.
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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.
You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.
The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.
“Will she live?” Your father asks.
“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”
“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”
“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”
“I will do with my child as I see fit.”
“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”
Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”
“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”
Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.
Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”
No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.
You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.
Bury the body.
Bury the body.
Bury the—
Your body lurches up.
Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.
The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.
They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.
You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.
“You were shouting in your sleep again.”
You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.
“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”
“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”
“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”
Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.
The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.
“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”
Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—
“I’m going, I’m going.”
The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.
Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.
Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”
“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”
She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.
“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”
She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”
You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.
Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.
And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.
But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.
You need to be away from them. To be on your own.
“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”
The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”
“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”
“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”
“Of course I will.” No.
She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.
But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.
“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”
“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”
She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.
You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.
You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.
So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.
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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.
The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.
He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—
“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”
Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.
Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”
Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.
The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.
See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.
Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.
It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.
It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.
Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.
“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”
Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”
There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”
At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.
“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”
“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.
It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.
But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.
Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”
No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.
He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”
He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.
Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”
“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.
Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”
“Listen, Cassian—”
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.
All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.
But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.
She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.
“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”
Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.
Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.
“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”
Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”
Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.
“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”
“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.
Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.
“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”
True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.
She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.
So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?
This is fucking ridiculous.
She can’t be left to live like this.
“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”
Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.
Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”
Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.
“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”
Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”
“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”
The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.
But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.
“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.
She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.
“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”
Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”
“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”
Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.
But Az seems oblivious.
“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.
Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”
Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”
Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”
“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”
“Cassian, that is enough—”
“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”
Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.
“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.
He barks a laugh. “No chance.”
“Kaeda just said she’d help—”
“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”
Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—
“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”
“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.
Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”
Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.
Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.
And then there were two.
Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.
“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”
A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”
Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.
“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”
She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
This is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.
This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.
You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.
And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?
These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.
You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.
You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.
No.
You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—
But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.
“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”
“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”
But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.
“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.
But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.
Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”
“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.
“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”
You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”
“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”
You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”
“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”
“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”
He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”
“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”
“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”
You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”
“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Why?”
“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”
It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.
Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”
“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”
Azriel stops short. Stares at you.
You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.
You’re not sure you can do that anymore.
Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”
“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”
Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.
You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.
And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.
“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”
You fold your arms. “Fine.”
“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”
“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”
“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”
You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.
So you say nothing. You just shrug again.
He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.
And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”
He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.
And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.
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azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd
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alixmarauders · 1 month
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Why try? | poly! marauders x fem! reader
tag: @staarflowerr @mooonyxoxo @liviessun
fluff / slight angst if you close an eye
word count: 1.5k
chapter one, chapter two, chapter three , chapter 4 will be coming soon
CW: negative self talk, cursing
TW: mention of skipping meals!!! Be safe please bestie 🩷
It’s been a couple of days.
A couple of days of you hiding in your dorm room because you just can’t bring yourself to talk to them. The worst thing is that you can’t even talk about it, because nobody knows that you’ve been dating them.
So your roommates just think you’re going through some type of depression.
Thankfully, being the weekend, you don’t have any lesson to go to, so you can just stay in bed and cry all you want.
You don’t even know why you’re making such a big deal out of a single comment, you are painfully aware that you can’t even fight over this small thing, but it still hurts.
That single comment brought out your first two years in Hogwarts, when nobody really was looking forward to become your friend, when you felt like a wallflower in every social setting, when you felt like somebody to be tolerated, not somebody to be loved.
The problem is, you haven’t eaten in two days, and even though you aren’t necessarily hungry, you know that you’ll have to have breakfast on Monday. You aren’t even sleeping well, this mix isn’t really helping your mood, nor the headache that doesn’t seem to pass. You just hope you’ll feel better tomorrow morning.
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“Sirius you can’t just barge into her room, for God’s sake” James was sitting on his bed, head in his hands.
“Yeah, Prongs here is right. We aren’t even here boyfriends”
“So what? We’re gonna ignore the fact that she hasn’t been eating for two days straight and pretend that she is fine? Because she is not, I’m telling you. Remus you told us that she seemed strange in the library, yes?” Sirius was pacing anxiously back and forth in their dorm room. He just couldn’t understand why you had been in your room for two days straight, they thought they should have given you some space, but it was getting ridiculous, and Sirius hated space, he wanted you here with his two boyfriends.
Remus shook his head “Maybe she has been eating? How do you know she hasn’t left her dorm room?”
Sirius blushed “I may or may not have checked the map every five minutes since Friday night, and I wanted to remind you that she hasn’t eaten a thing even then! Herbology my ass, you don’t get that upset over herbology! She’s a little genius, I don’t think she has ever struggled since the first year, I won’t believe she is struggling with some stupid plants”.
James and Remus shared a look. Sirius didn’t usually care that much about anyone apart from them. They suddenly realised that they couldn’t loose you, not when Sirius was already going through so much with his family, he would simply break.
“You’re right Sirius. If you’ve checked, she has to eat. It’s a miracle she hasn’t fainted yet”
“Tomorrow morning. We have potions together, right? We’re gonna talk to her, and we’re gonna fix… whatever this is.”
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Except you didn’t make it to potions. You were late, the night before you’re brain just shut down, and you woke up on Monday evening, skipping a day of class and, most importantly, three meals. This unplanned fast was getting ridiculous, even to your own eyes.
You felt a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N” Emmeline was trying to wake you up. “I brought you some food. I don’t know why you’re so upset, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone, or if you just want somebody to be there for you.”
You sighed. She was the only friend that stuck with you since the first year, and she was an angel; always there for you, always ready to listen and give advice, but you just couldn’t manage to talk about what was going on in your head.
“Thanks Em” You smiled, then she exited the room, and you looked at the plate. You ate something, but you were just too exhausted to finish everything.
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You didn’t actually go to class since Thursday.
Truth is, you felt like a coward. You didn’t want to face the boys, too afraid of what they would think of you, of what they would say to you, and every day it got worse. You knew that they thought you were avoiding them, and you weren’t even sure why you were doing so, but every time you tried to get up and go outside, you just couldn’t.
Each day, Em would bring you something to eat, you just took a bite of everything, not really finishing the food you were given. Everyday, Em would tell you about how the marauders were looking differently, and how they stared at them throughout the meals, and you really felt guilty.
So, even though you skipped breakfast, having woken up late, you decided to go to class and to talk to the guys, at least to try to. You didn’t want to end something that didn’t even have the chance to start just because you were overthinking.
You were walking to the Great Hall when all of the sudden your vision became blurry, Em was telling you something about the upcoming herbology test, when every sound became sort of muffled, and your head suddenly felt so heavy, and now your legs weren’t cooperating anymore, and then you just fainted.
The marauders, which were catching up to you in the corridors, saw you falling to the ground, and suddenly they didn’t give a fuck about your brother anymore. He wasn’t there to help you anyways.
“Y/N!” Sirius rushed to you, Em staring at him with wide eyes.
Remus was quick to raise your legs in the air, while Sirius promptly made sure that the position wasn’t suddenly flashing the whole student body, while making sure you were smelling his strong cologne, putting your wrist under your nose. James was running to Madam Pomfrey.
Little by little, you started to gain consciousness. You didn’t make sense of the situation at first, so you just nuzzled into Sirius touch.
“Love, have I ever told you that I love your cologne? It smells really great, I want to bathe in it” You looked up at him dreamily. He chuckled.
“Well, sweetheart, thank you. You could have told me so without having to faint, giving me an heart attack.”
And then you realised the position in which you were in. You were in the middle of the corridor.
The students were all looking at you.
Em and Aurora were looking really funny, Em with her eyes open wide, Aurora practically fuming.
But Remus didn’t give you the time to think about this, hauling you in his shoulder and rushing to the infirmary.
They hauled you on a hospital bed, James and Poppy waiting for you.
“Well, what happened?” You tried to speak, but the boys didn’t let you.
“She fainted in the middle of the corridor. She hasn’t been eating for five days” You looked down, embarrassed. How did they know?
“I actually did eat a little” Sirius rolled his eyes.
“I think we have a diagnosis. You’re a smart girl, you should know better than to starve yourself. If you feel like it, I think you should go have lunch. I don’t think we have to conduct further examinations, if you don’t have anything else to tell me?”
You shook your head.
“Is it okay if I carry you, darling?” James looked down at you softly. You blushed, nodding.
So he carried you, and you made your grand entrance: James carried you in his arms bridal style, Remus and Sirius walking at your sides. You could hear the students gasping, a buzz suddenly starting to raise in the common room.
The boys ignored it, sitting you next to them, their friends eager to get to know you.
“So you are the famous Y/N!” Peter was smiling at you, you blushed.
“How do” You cleared your voice. “How do you know my name?”
The boys and their friends started laughing. “How could we not know your name? They’re talking about you 24/7!”
“You should have seen Sirius this weekend, he was so tense that we barely could stop him from lashing out on a poor first year” Lily was smiling, you looked over at Sirius, who was feigning ignorance.
Remus filled your plate with mashed potatoes, some kind of meat, lots and lots of veggies and definitely too much bread.
“Eat. First you eat, then you talk. Please?” You nodded, feeling slightly ashamed, he looked really concerned, they all did.
“So anyways, how did you guys meet? And, most importantly, how come an angel like you got herself tangled up with them”
James shoved lightly Regulus, who was grinning, while you nearly choked on your food.
“Leave the poor girl alone, will you? You already know everything about how they met her, her eyes were sparkling in the sun and she had this-“ At this, they all said in unison “pink sundress flowing lightly and her hair were put in a perfect ponytail”
You could feel your ears burning, the guys all smiling at your shyness.
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bubblybloob · 7 months
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I have a feeling, and bear with me here, that each of the voices’ own chapters are where they’re their worst selves.
Think about it. Hunted plays right in the Beast’s hands, yet he is incredibly useful in dodging Razor and kind of acts like a predator instead of prey in Eye of the Needle. Skeptic overanalyzes every minute detail that he can in Prisoner and his encouragement ends in us getting a shackle around our neck, but in Den and Eye of the Needle he is an integral part of the plan to lure the princess out.
This is why it’s hard to tell what’s really up with some voices, for example let’s look at Broken. Broken is actively working against us in Tower, yet is rather gentle in Wild. I believe the only other two instances he appears in is in the two “Everyone is here” chapters where he is overshadowed and is literally called by Opportunist the worst of the bunch in Clarity, which isn’t necessarily inaccurate but it only serves to worsen his reputation when he doesn’t seem all that bad when he’s our secondary voice to show up in Wild. Though again, Wild is our only example of him being like this, and all voices brought into the Wild seem a little too passive. I wonder if there was another chapter where he was our secondary voice and with no huge “everyone is here” event, he’d act differently.
Paranoid is a toss up because he spends most of Nightmare being unable to speak up, he’s too busy trying to keep you alive, and when he does speak he usually says something generally useful, like getting the narrator to shut up or theorizing His control over their situation. Though to be fair his whole existence as a voice of paranoia in our head gets dampened by the absolute insane situation we’re forced into in every route, so most of what he says ends up sounding relatively reasonable despite what his title implies. I’m pretty sure anyone would be paranoid if they kept coming back to life and are forced to kill the same woman who continues evolving in how she looks and behaves.
Cheated is like if Broken’s problems and Paranoids problems were mixed together. His own string of chapters is a big “everyone is here” adventure, so obviously attention gets diverted away from him to make room for the others. Even then, this is where he’s at his worst, so what about where he’s at his best? Sadly, he is actually a little hard to get given the situations you have to enact that most players won’t follow on. I myself have never gotten him outside of Razor. I wonder how much we’re all actually aware of what he’s like at his best instead of his worst.
I do remember Black Tabby Games saying something along the lines of them wanting voices to be more useful outside of their own chapters, so I wonder if that contributed to this feeling I’ve been getting from them.
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On David Tennant and Aging
So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.
David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.
It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…
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He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.
Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.
David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.
There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!
I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.
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haaarry · 7 months
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Harry and Y/N make-up.
Harry has to be quick.
He and Y/N haven’t been on good terms for about two weeks now, and they agreed to not talk and give each other space so they could think about what to do.
But that hasn’t stopped him from still fulfilling his boyfriend responsibilities.
He still thinks it’s right to text her good morning and good night, as well as leave her little goody baskets at her front door for when she gets off work.
Like today!
He realized the first of the month is coming up, and Y/N has to pay rent. He knows she’s good on cash, but he likes to help her in any way he can (even when he’s supposed to be giving her space) and thought it’d be nice to send her a little something — actually, a quite big amount. He sends her the entirety of her rent through a money-sending app, as well as a few extra hundred dollars. He labels the memo with “rent/groceries/anything, really.” He smiles and presses send. He hopes she doesn’t send it back.
Then, he places down the goody basket he got for Y/N at her door step (filled with all her favorite snacks, as well as a note to let her know he still loves her so she doesn’t forget) and turns quickly on his heels. As much as he would like to see Y/N, he knows she gets home at about this time after work, and he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He’s already pressing the boundaries as it is.
But, as luck would have it, he’s face-to-face with her as he turns around. His breath hitches in his throat, feeling his body go numb with excitement yet also feeling anxious. He notices Y/N’s eyes go wide.
“Hi,” she says simply, yet in a slightly higher-than-normal-pitch due to being caught off guard.
“Hi,” he returns the greeting. He realizes he must look foolish — standing outside her apartment when they’re supposed to be giving each other space. “I, um-“ he stutters, “brought you this.” He gestures to the goody basket, feeling his cheeks heat. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.
Y/N tilts her head around Harry’s body to look at the basket on the ground. She looks back at him and gently smiles. “Thank you,” she looks around nervously. “And thank you for the money. You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to,” he proclaims. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Y/N’s eyes soften. She takes note of his anxious demeanor and looks at the goody basket again. “Do you want to come inside?” She asks randomly. But not really — she misses him, and she accepts it.
“Yes,” he blurts out. He realizes how eager he sounds, but he doesn’t care.
“Okay,” she smiles and looks anywhere but at him, feeling a warmth encompass her body suddenly.
They enter her home. Harry sets down the goody basket on her kitchen island, taking a second to inhale the familiar scent. It was weird; he used to sleep here every night, but before this moment, he hadn’t been here in two weeks.
“How was work?” Harry abruptly asks, not liking the silence.
“Oh!” Y/N softly giggles. “It was good! I actually had a good day.” She swings her arms back and forth, not sure of how to act or stand. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous.
“That’s good,” Harry lamely replies, looking down at the design on her kitchen island and tracing it with his finger.
A silence falls between them again, neither of them knowing how to act around the other — given their situation.
“How was your day?” Y/N asks.
“I don’t want to talk about my day,” Harry states, looking up at her. Y/N notices he’s slightly teary-eyed. “What’re we doing?” He asks in an upset tone. “Are we going to be in this awkward state forever?”
“Harry-“ Y/N tries to interject.
“No, really,” Harry continues. “I mean, we’re just going to go on and pretend we’re together, but we’re not really together because you don’t answer my texts and you don’t let me come see you and-“
“Harry,” Y/N says in a stern yet calm tone. She grabs Harry’s face, him not even realizing she had gotten closer to him during his spiel. “I love you.” Her voice is incredibly soft.
Harry looks into Y/N’s eyes, replaying her words in his mind. Her watery eyes match his own, and he feels himself sink lower into her touch, falling into her hands. He closes his eyes, and the salt of his tears burn.
“I love you,” he says back with his eyes closed. “I love you more,” he says with his eyes open.
Y/N shakes her head with a light laugh and sniffle. “No.”
“Yes,” Harry says firmly, inching his face closer toward hers. His lips brush hers, waiting to receive a confirmation his tongue can enter her mouth with either her body language or a simple word. She parts her lips, just barely, and Harry takes the opportunity.
He kisses her, rather sloppily, and their lips create a smooch sound before he slips his tongue into her mouth. Y/N moans, missing Harry's kisses, and falls into his body. She caresses his face and holds onto his jawline with one hand, while the other travels through the hair at the back of his head, slightly tugging. Harry reciprocates the moan and instinctively juts his hips forward, hitting Y/N's pelvis. She laughs into Harry's mouth and pulls away -- although not without Harry whining in disagreement.
"Where ya goin'?" He murmurs against her lips, with a smile. "Need you," he juts his hips forward again.
Y/N becomes shy, resting her forehead on Harry's cheek and giggling. "I can tell." She looks down at him in his pants, pushing hard against the material. "You want my mouth?" She asks bravely while looking up at him, with a mischievous smile.
"Please, baby." Harry grabs hold of her waist and slips his right hand into her pants, wanting to see if she'd gotten wet yet; and she has. "Fuck," Harry moans, slipping his middle and ring fingers easily through her folds, "you're already so wet, baby."
Y/N is already a whimpering mess, moaning into Harry's mouth as he gathers her wetness and brings it up to rub against her clit. "I thought... I..." she struggles to get out, "I thought you wanted me to-" her breath hitches in her throat at Harry slips two of his fingers into her.
"Later, sweet girl." Harry whispers into her ear. "I think you need to be taken care of first, hmm?" The speed of his fingers quicken, causing them to create a squelching noise that sends Y/N into a frenzy.
"But I... I wanna... please," Y/N begs him, ready to lap all over his cock, despite how wonderful Harry's fingers feel.
"You wanna what?" Harry encourages her. "Hmm?" He thumbs at her clit, rubbing circles against it.
Y/N looks up at Harry, doe-eyed. She cradles his dick, bulging through his pants. "I want you in my mouth," she says seductively, and Harry feels himself begin to leak.
She gets down on her knees, not even giving Harry and opportunity to pull his own hand out of her pants before doing so. She lifts her shirt up and over her head and unclasps her bra. She knows how much Harry likes to see her breasts when she takes him in her mouth.
Usually, Y/N likes to unzip Harry's pants and suck him off through his zipper, but today she's eager and pulls his pants all the way down. His cock springs up and points at Y/N's face. The wet tip brushes her lips -- puffy from Harry's kisses -- and coats them in his precum. She tastes it and Harry watches, his chest rising and falling as he eyes the beauty on her knees for him.
"Gonna suck my cock?" He asks her in a taunting yet playful tone. Grabbing her hair, Y/N feels herself getting even more needy for Harry's dick, and she wraps her lips around his tip, closing her eyes. "My pretty girl," he praises her, voice hitching as she takes him deeper. She slides her tongue all around him, getting him nice and wet so she can work him with her hand while sucking on his tip.
"So big," she gushes, jerking him off while looking up at Harry. She slathers a mixture of her spit and his precum onto her nipples, using the head of his dick as a sort of paintbrush. She knows Harry has a peculiar obsession with her tits -- her nipples in particular. Seeing them hard and dripping (from him) gets him going more than anything.
"Ah," Harry throws his head back and sucks air between his teeth. He speaks heavily and grittily. "All mine, right?" He reaches his right hand down and squeezes her nipple. She takes him back into her mouth and groans. "Right?" He persists, squeezing her nipple again before tangling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and giving it a good yank.
Y/N pops him out of her mouth. "M'all yours," she says honestly.
Even when they were broken up, she was his -- and she always will be.
Harry pulls Y/N up to her feet, guiding her by the hold he still has on her hair. He grips her jaw with the other hand and kisses her hard. He's ready to take her, and he can't wait another second.
"All mine." He spins her around and bends her over slightly onto the kitchen island, just enough to have her behind push back against him. Removing her pants is quick. He slips into her, finally, and they voice how good it feels at the same time, such as fucking hell and so big, baby, both in pure ecstasy.
"You're all mine," Harry reiterates with a whimper, breath shuttering against Y/N's neck. "My pretty girl." His hips speed up, knowing this will be quick. His lips drag against her neck as he whispers filthy things to her, causing her to melt even further and push her behind onto him, wanting to take control. They both missed each other so much, and they're finally getting their release.
"Missed you," Y/N manages to get out, almost losing her voice with how hard Harry's fucking her.
"I missed you more," Harry says back with a firm tug on her hair, sending the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure to her scalp. "M'all yours, too," he says as he gets close, and he can't wait to cum. "You want me to cum, baby?" He asks her because he knows how hot she thinks it is -- to perceive that she has the control (she really does. She could tell Harry to cum 30 seconds into sex and he would). "Want my cum inside?"
"Ngggh," Y/N gurgles, knowing she's close too. She breathes frantically and squeezes her walls around his cock as he scrapes his teeth against her neck. "Please."
In no time Harry cums, shooting from his tip deep inside her. His grip on her hair tightens, pulling her hair so tight it almost hurts, but she takes it. The burning pit in her stomach was ignited as well, set off as she felt Harry's cum paint her walls inside her. She cums, clamping down on Harry's dick and gripping the kitchen island for stability.
"Harry," she whines as her legs grow weak.
Harry gives a few more slow strokes of his cock before pulling out. His tip rests on her behind, leaving traces of their mixed juices on her skin. Harry shutters, feeling extra sensitive. He turn her around and falls against her body -- his head limp on her breasts. He falls to his knees and hugs her hips, giving her tummy a kiss before closing his eyes and sighing contently.
Y/N giggles breathlessly, tousling his hair. Just a few short minutes ago, their positions were reversed. She knows how tired and sleepy Harry gets after he cums (if they were in bed, he'd be fast asleep by now) so she lets him rest for a couple of minutes before encouraging him to look at her. Her hands on his face startle him (he was asleep) but he looks up at her with a loopy smile.
"Hi," he says innocently.
"Hey," she says back, still playing with his hair. "You okay?"
Harry stifles a laugh, burying his face against the skin of her stomach. "I haven't been this good in a long time."
Y/N's heart flutters. She knows what he's implying.
"Are we..." Suddenly Harry feels nervous. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing or make the wrong assumption.
Y/N helps Harry up to his feet and rubs the tip of her nose against his with her eyes closed. "I love you," she says simply yet truthfully. "Fuck that break."
Harry's laugh fills the kitchen. He pushes his forehead against hers, feeling as if his heart is going to explode. "I love you more."
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razorblade180 · 9 days
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Home Warfare
Ruby:*on call* …(Maybe he’s busy?)
Jaune:Hello?
Ruby:!? S-Sup! Just checking in. How was the flight back home?
Jaune:My stomach has stopped flipping. It’s the little victories that matter.
Ruby:I still can’t believe you went back home for break. Isn’t it your first time back since…lying?
Jaune:Yeah, but it’s not like they know that part. Plus I’ve kept in contact. You’re not going back to Patch?
Ruby:Yang did. Dad is actually taking a mission so if o went back I’m basically house sitting.
Jaune:You don’t want to see your old friends?
Ruby:I can do that when I pick up Yang. Making a big deal out of it feels awkward. Have you been smothered with affection yet?
Jaune:What do you mean?
Ruby:It must be a big deal continuing your families legacy; especially in your hometown.
Jaune:Probably, if I meant anything.
Ruby:Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?
Jaune:Just because I’m at Beacon doesn’t mean anything. Not like my grades are stellar or I’m a different person. Still the bullied twerp that left and the son with low expectations. I’m only really here because I have to come back eventually.
Ruby:….
Jaune:Ruby?
Ruby:I could’ve went with you.
Jaune:That’s nice, but why would you?
Ruby:Because you sound miserable! It’s not like I’m doing anything. I can’t do too much about people giving you a hard time but showing up with a new friend has to mean something.
Jaune:I gotta be honest…you being here would make this place bearable. I honestly forgot how…small it felt being here at times.
Ruby:Would you like me to be there? I can take an airship tomorrow, seriously.
Jaune:If it’s really okay, sure. I’d love to see you.
Ruby:Cool. I’ll be your moral support!
Jaune:Haha, thanks. Well I have to go. Dinner is almost ready. Wish me luck.
Ruby:Good luck! *hangs up*
Weiss:*walks in* Oh, you’re still here.
Ruby:It’s our dorm! Why wouldn’t I be!?
Weiss:What I meant is I thought you’d be running around doing anything but being a hermit. Even Blake took a trip.
Ruby:…Weiss? I have an offer you can’t refuse. One that involves the mall, your opinion, and freedom from me.
Weiss:Go on.
xxxxxxx
The next day, out in town
Papa Arc:So what exactly was your role in all that again?
Jaune:I came up with the plan against the DeathStalker.
Papa Arc:Can you really consider a couple callouts a plan? Especially when you didn’t lead the charge?
Mama Arc: Harold! Leave him alone! I think it’s great he’s trying.
Harold:Persephone, trying is one thing, achieving is another. Can’t have him getting full of himself.
Jaune:(Or having any confidence at all.)
Persephone: The year has only really just begun. There’s leaps and bounds a C-student like our boy can make given enough time and focus, hopefully.
Jaune:…
???:He’s actually a B-student thanks to me.
Jaune’s head perked up. He recognized that voice anywhere. He turned around to greet Ruby but was left speechless the moment his eyes found her.
Combat boots were abandoned for red flats. The leggings he had known her for were abandoned for black thigh-highs with rose petals on them. The combat skirt had been stolen and replaced with black jean shorts with a red belt while her corset was swapped for a half shirt with long sleeves that went just past her hands. Jaune might not have recognized Ruby if not for the cloak!
The girl’s hair was noticeably a little wavy and a rose clip kept her bangs out of her face which showed off a modest amount of dark eye shadow that matched new lipstick. It went with her black fingernail polish he noticed as she waved with her left while rolling her luggage over.
Jaune:R-Ruby?
Ruby:Hello~ fancy seeing you here. Although I do remember saying you’d be visiting your dear family. I guess these are your parents! Hi! He’s mentioned wonderful things about you.
Persephone:And not enough about you! Ruby, was it?
Ruby:Yep! Ruby Rose. Jaune’s actually the first person helpful person I met at Beacon; as well as my dorm neighbor. We’re always comparing notes and helping one another as leaders of our teams.
Harold:You’re also a leader of a team?
Ruby:R-W-B-Y. Team RWBY. Hehe, I know I probably don’t look that impressive but I promise you, I know my way around the battlefield.
Harold:…You said my son is B-student now.
Ruby:Mmhm. He has a better memory for history than I do so as token of appreciation, I helped him with Grimm anatomy and practical skills. Your son is quite a fast learner. You must be so proud.
Jaune:I-
Harold:Well he has his ups and downs but of course he has his merits.
Persephone:Anyways…what brings you all the from Beacon?
Ruby:There’s a weapons convention not too far from here. I’m a real nerd for this stuff. Figured I could use my break to stay a couple days and check the exhibit. Is the Arc family presenting any armor or swords?
Harold:You know our history.
Ruby:Of course. I know your son, and he’s quite proud of it the same way I’m proud of my mother and her accomplishments. It’s probably why we get along so well, besides him being raised well. Take it from me, there’s some real jerks that let linage go to their heads.
Persephone:Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing! Jaune! I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned her more!
Jaune:I said I was making friends who get me.
Persephone:Ruby? Is your inner room already booked? If not, you can gladly stay with us while you’re here.
Ruby and Jaune: What?
Persephone:It’s not a problem at all. We never get to meet Jaune’s friends and you must only make so much money while being students. We have plates to spare. Isn’t that right Harold?
Harold:Yes, I’m…curious to know more things about my son.
Ruby:Well…if you insist.
Persephone:Wonderful! We will set things up and take your stuff now. Jaune, show Ruby around the town.
With no more room to negotiate, Ruby gives her things to Jaune’s parents and watch them get far enough away before letting out a sigh. Coincidentally, he did the same.
Ruby:No offense to your parents, but I’m really impressed how nice you are. I heard a little bit of the conversation before I said anything. They’re…a real piece of work. They look like they mean well though.
Jaune:You aren’t wrong. Thanks for showing up when you did. By the way… what’s with the new look?
Ruby:It’s like I said, I’m good on the battlefield. I figured the best way to shut up your hometown enemies was to give them something to shut up about. I’m not one for fashion so i asked Weiss for help finding a look that fits me. Honestly I still think I look awkward.
Jaune:No you’re gorgeous! Like some cool goth badass that’s cu- cute.
Ruby:*red*…Hehe, well thank you. I might not look like it all the time but I really like first impressions. A few people have noticed me on the way in. Guess Weiss went a little too hard, but that works in our favor. I doubt people will pick on you as much.
Jaune:Honestly they might be jealous if they see you with me.
Ruby:Is that a problem?
Jaune:Absolutely not. It would be hilarious.
Ruby:Haha, then lead the way. Show me your old stomping grounds.
Any worries he had faded away instantly. Jaune happily took Ruby’s hand and began walking. The girl was stunned for a second before getting close enough to lean on the boy. Honestly, she could get used to this.
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hauntedhokage · 2 months
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pushing limits 
Itoshi Sae/F!Reader/Shidou Ryusei
word count: 2.9k
warnings: inappropriate use of a massage gun, threesome, explicit sexual content (mdni), possessive Shidou, mutual obsession between all three parties, conversational sex, 
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Sae had learned quickly that if Shidou was looking for something with a sense of urgency that it was probably stupid and something that he shouldn’t involve himself with. His little demon was always good about tidying up the space after he’d found whatever little treasure had been lost. There were rare moments where you were also frantically looking for something with Shidou that he hadn’t yet figured out if it was worth his time to intervene or better for him to completely remove himself from the premises until you’d both located the lost treasure and recovered the order of the shared space - be it your shared apartment or a hotel room. 
This time, he decides it’s probably better to leave you both to it, getting comfortable in the chair tucked into the corner of the hotel room with a book and headphones that would drown out the relentless back and forth questioning being tossed between his two lovers. Especially now that the suitcases have come out, the question of what may or may not have made it into one of the many suitcases in the hotel room could be answered once it had been found or a quick run to the store was made to replace it. Neither of you were crying so it couldn’t have been that important. He’d hear all about it later, he was sure. 
“He’s not even helping!” You comment to Shidou, pointing over to where Sae had quickly immersed himself in a book and over ear headphones designed to help drown out whatever the fuck you and Shidou often got up to when you were bored. “He’s the one who said he packed it!”
“What a bastard,” Shidou teases, not looking up from his own task that was digging through Sae’s suitcase in his search. “We’ll use his card to buy a new one.”
“Thought you said we’d never replace Wandy?”
“As much as I love Wandy, all things can be replaced,” the blonde comments, looking up to see that you’d given up on your search through your own suitcase. “And I’m trying to have us both overstimulated to hell tonight and to do that I need help.”
He tosses a case onto the bed, something that you both watch bounce on the mattress before looking at each other once more. That was Sae’s personal massage gun, complete with eight or nine different interchangeable attachments and adjustable levels of vibration. Sae loved using it on you both after particularly long sex sessions to help ease any tensed muscles, sometimes teasing where you were most sensitive to try and pull another orgasm out of his spent lovers. 
You know that you and Shidou are often on the same page, to the point where you sometimes felt like you were reading each other’s minds. This is one of those times, your eyes dancing between his gaze and the little gray case with an idea in mind that you’re sure he’s following. He always followed. 
“You dirty slut.”
“Sae would kill us.”
“Shouldn’t have lost Wandy, then.”
“Fair enough,” you murmur, bringing your finger between your teeth as you look over to where Sae still wasn’t paying you two any attention. He truly had bought those headphones with the sole purpose of properly tuning out whatever you and Shidou could get into, and they worked extremely well. “Should we at least ask?”
“Waste of time.” He’s already opening the case, and you’re climbing onto the bed to sit on your knees as you watch him. “He’s gonna say we’re stupid, and tell us to go buy a new one even though he lost it. We don’t have that kind of time, angel.”
He was right; you didn’t have a lot of time considering your early flight home in the morning. You had the evening, then needed to shower before getting enough rest to not be miserable in the airport. Shidou has his goal of getting you both overstimulated, which wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed rushing into because he didn’t want to hurt either of you and would only get slowed even further once Sae’s meticulous hands got involved. Besides, Sae had used it on you before with less than honorable intentions, he shouldn’t have too big of a fit over this. 
“If he doesn’t want to use it again, he can buy a new one when he replaces Wandy.”
He was right once again, but you don’t bother to vocalize what he already knew. Instead you just lean up to kiss him, fingers in the waistband of his joggers trying to lead him onto the bed with you while his hands work to get the attachment into its slot on the gun. Once he’s got a hand free it’s moving between your legs to your slit that was only covered by a thin pair of panties, a pleased hum leaving him at how damp the fabric already was. If his mouth wasn’t so busy on yours, you know he’d be teasing you for how needy you were and how he liked you needy and wet for him. 
“When he’s done this before, low settings yeah?”
“Depends on how mean he’s feeling,” you answer, laying back against the pillows when he gently pushes you back, being mindful of Sae’s suitcase that was still open at the foot of the bed. “Start low and then turn it up, please?”
“Yeah, angel, I’ll take good care of you.” 
It’s a rare moment of softness from Shidou where sex was involved. Usually he was quick to pounce, eager to take what it was he wanted from your body and make sure you got what you needed in return with little regard for pleasantries and promises of care. The soft stuff would come after you were reduced to a puddle in his arms, he didn’t like to lose his edge before he came so the mushy verbal foreplay to ease you into the next event was usually left to Sae if you needed it. To have him resting his head on your thigh to keep it down while he prepared you for what was to come was a rarity, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 
You hear the hum of the vibration before you feel the gentle thumping on your mound, his free hand keeping your thighs spread open as he settles on his stomach between them. You’re grateful for the barrier your underwear provides, even though the fabric was thin it dulled the sensation of the vibration to prevent the feeling of receiving too much too soon which you knew would’ve happened quickly with the massage gun working around your clit and Shidou’s thumb teasing your slit. 
Pink eyes watch you intently, a gaze that makes you feel so small and yet so loved as he plays with you. He’s mumbling promises into your panties; that he wants to see you messy and crying for him, covered and filled with his cum and his sweat and his spit that you smell like him for days after he was done with you and you can only nod along to his every word with the utmost agreement to his plans. Your demon was in his full possessive mode and you knew he’d achieve every single one of his goals tonight. If not; there was always the car on the way to the airport, the time spent in the airport waiting for your flight, the flight itself, the ride from the airport to your home, and then the time you had to yourselves after getting home. 
“You’re so pretty up there, angel.” The praise is accompanied by additional pressure to your mound with the gun, bringing a broken gasp from your lips that has him grinning. “My pretty girl. That feel good?”
“S’good Ryu.” 
His grin stretches wider, and you watch as he pushes the button to increase the intensity that has your eyes and legs struggling to stay open. There’s an increased pressure on your thigh to keep your legs open, you hope he’s gripping hard enough to leave his mark for another day or two so you can see that proud smirk he gets when he sees his handiwork on display. 
“Gotta get these off.” You watch as he props himself up enough to work his joggers off with one hand and use the window to work your panties off to give him the access he was going to need and save the thin fabric from his impatient hands. Sae had bought the panties you were, and they weren’t cheap so you wanted them to last longer than the two days you’d had them in your possession. “Always thinkin’ ahead, angel.”
The gun is back beside your clit before you can respond to the praise, your hand burying itself in his hair as his mouth disappears into your wet folds. He’s groaning into your pussy as you moan, the power of the gun increasing as he brings it directly over your clit. There’s a slight rock into the mattress, Shidou groaning into your cunt adding additional vibration that has your hips grinding into his greedy mouth as you come apart for him. 
“You’re so fucking yummy,” he whispers, leaving your pussy with one last sloppy kiss before he drags his body along yours until he reaches your mouth. His hips slot all too perfectly between your legs, his hard length grinding against your slit in slow strokes as his tongue tangles with yours in your mouth. He’s practically pulling your tongue from your mouth with his own, the difference in strength between you obvious in even the smallest instances and turning you on even more. 
“Gonna cum, princess,” he warns, grin on his face as you look glance down to where his length is still grinding through your folds against your slit. “Gonna cum all over your pretty pussy, then I’m gonna fuck it and cum inside your pretty pussy. Y’want that?”
“Please, Ryu.” Your pleas have him grinding harder, the occasional stroke brushing your sensitive clit and sending shivers up your spine. “Ryusei, please cum for me.”
You feel the warmth of his cum painting your pussy as he groans, pushing his length into your cunt as he sits up to appreciate the sight of you painted with his cum as his fingers spread it across your skin with additional attention paid to your clit and bringing tears to your eyes at how sensitive you were after your orgasms. 
“So pretty when you’re cryin’ f’me,” he whispers, fingers pressing into your clit which forces a hiss from between your teeth that has him grinning. “I’m so fuckin’ in love with ya, makes me insane.” 
“L-love you too,” you moan, reaching up to wipe at the drool that’s left him and basking in how feral he got for you as he fucked you. “Feel so perfect, Ryu.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts, sending a kiss through the air your way as his hands lift your hips so he can help you meet his thrusts. “S’perfect together.”
“Yes, you are,” Sae murmurs, sitting beside you on the bed and smoothing your hair down. “My perfect little lovers who kicked my suitcase off the bed and made a mess.”
“Sorry.” Your whisper is met with a shake of the head as he moves so you’re laying between his legs with your head resting on his thigh. You’re always quickly forgiven by Sae, he knew how Shidou could be when he was on a mission and Sae particularly enjoyed when Shidou’s mission was sex. 
One of Sae’s hands busies itself with your breasts, freeing them from the tank top you still wore and gently kneading your left breast as he reaches for the massage gun. This only spelled trouble for you, and Shidou’s devious grin confirms it as Sae turns the gun on and presses it directly on your clit. It’s too much, too quickly, the wail that erupts from deep in your throat likely enough to wake up the entire floor of the hotel as Sae smirks in his own satisfaction while gently chiding you for your volume while Shidou laughs.
“Be as loud as you like, angel,” the blonde requests, pushing your legs back as Sae moves the gun lower to try and stimulate Shidou’s cock while still torturing you with the vibration. “Let them all know who’s got you filled every night.”
“We’ll get banned from this hotel,” Sae warns, something that has Shidou smirking smugly at him as he sighs. “I guess we can add it to the list.”
The massage gun is turned up to a level Sae rarely tortured you with, this time Shidou crying out at a volume that matched your own at the intense vibration inflicted upon you both. Sae is asking for you both to cum, prompting you both to show him how beautiful you were when you brought each other such wonderful pleasure. You’re surprised to feel that you have another one in you; but you know it’s your last, probably for a couple days, the sheer power forcing more tears for Shidou to lean in and kiss away as his length throbs in your cunt and the warmth of his cum fills your core. 
“Satisfied?” 
The question has your blonde lover grinning, his hips continuing to grind into yours to make sure every last drop of his cum found its home in your pussy. The only thing that leaves the blonde is a breathy moan, the satisfaction evident in his face as he looks up at Sae.
“Spent,” he finally breathes, leaning in to give you a sloppy kiss while carefully pulling out of your sensitive pussy. “Sweet girl always takes everything I’ve got.” 
“You always make such a mess of each other,” Sae scolds with an amused smile, trading places with Shidou so he can settle between your legs. “But you look delicious when you’re messy.”
Your body is exhausted, eyes barely staying open to look up at Shidou as he smirks down at you, but your hips still jolt in response to the feeling of Sae’s tongue dragging up your messy slit to collect what had started to drip out of you. A hum of approval sends electricity up your spine, your sensitive body trying to wiggle away from his eager tongue only to be held in place by his strong hands. 
“Stay put, angel,” Shidou murmurs, settling to lay on his side beside you to watch as Sae eats you out. One of his hands goes to Sae’s head, pushing the red hair back to get a clear look at Sae’s eyes gazing back at you. “Baby feels left out and wants to taste us both before bed.”
Sae doesn’t pull back to say anything, only lavishes attention around your clit to collect any of the cum left behind from Shidou’s first orgasm. The tears you thought were gone come bubbling back up to the surface at Sae’s attention, his tongue moving meticulously around your most sensitive spots while your overstimulated babbles fall on uncaring ears that hear only Shidou’s encouragement that you could take just one more. One more and you could rest, and you know you can do that for them - you’d done more in the past.
“C’mon, angel, give him our cum,” the blonde whispers, his eyes meeting yours as you nod. “He wants it so bad, and you want to give it to him, yeah?
“Stay put,” Sae instructs, rolling off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. You nod despite his back already being to you, smiling as Shidou peppers your face in little kisses while praising you for how well you took him and how pretty you were. 
When Sae returns, he first uses the cool washcloth to clean up your face, paying special mind to the tear stains on your cheeks before he moves to Shidou to do the same but focusing his attention on the blonde’s mouth. The washcloth then goes to Shidou’s cock carefully dragging the cloth along the sensitive organ and around the base, then folding it in half to expose the clean side as he moves to you. 
“Relax, my angel,” he whispers, carefully massaging your twitching thigh as he moves the washcloth between your legs. The rough fibers of the fabric provide an additional stimulation that is way too much, pulling a frustrated whine from deep in your chest that has Shidou humming beside you. A tanned arm draped over your waist curls to wrap around, pulling you into his side in an effort to comfort you while Sae continues to clean you up. 
“What’d ya do w’Wandy?” 
“I told you two this morning that we needed to replace it because the head broke off.”
“Y’decapitated her.”
“Sure,” Sae mumbles, smiling at you as you let out a soft laugh. “Got so jealous you liked it more.”
Instead of a smart response, all you hear is a soft snort that has you smiling at the way Sae looked at him. He could act annoyed all he wanted, but you knew better than anyone how much he loved you and Shidou and would never need to question his feelings. Sae’s fond smile was rare, he often tried to hide it even from you and Shidou despite the vulnerability you three were constantly sharing. 
“Get some sleep, angel,” he whispers to you, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he stands from the bed. “Long travel day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know,” you murmur back, snuggling into Shidou to make sure there was space for him on the bed when he came back. “But I forgive you for decapitating Wandy.”
“You’re very kind, he should take notes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Shidou grunts, turning so he could press his chest to your back, then pushing you to lean into Sae once the redhead was in the bed with you. 
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honkytonk-hangman · 2 years
Text
Line of Sight
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Masterlist
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Summary: You're almost certain that Jake Seresin could care less about you, that is, until you're in a tight spot and the one guy you assume will hang you out to dry, instead comes to your rescue.
Warnings: language, creepy club dudes, hangman being a little cold but actually he's just shyyyyyy
Notes: this is for @ussgallifrey who let me bang on about the feelings this man has given me <3 honestly this might turn into a mini-series because i havent even begun to resolve all my emotions about this whole vibe yet
Series Masterlist
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“Wait, is that Rooster?” you frown, trying to duck your head to see around the crowd of people at the club bar, your straw falling away from your lips as you do. “And Payback, and–” you cut yourself off, now certain of who and what you were seeing, and turn to look accusingly at your companions. Next to you, Phoenix follows your line of sight, but shrugs, seemingly unbothered about the impromptu appearance of the rest of Dagger Squad. Across from you, Halo winces guiltily, and lowers her brightly coloured cocktail away from her face.
“I may have mentioned our little soiree, and extended the invitation…” she admits, before hurriedly placing down her drink altogether and lifting her hands in a surrendering motion. “Look, in my defence, we’re all friends, and whatever you think about Hangman–”
“–It’s not what I think, Cal! It’s him who clearly doesn’t think much about me!” you stress, a little frustrated that your carefree girls night was now going to end up like all the other weekend nights you’ve had since befriending Dagger.
You loved Dagger, you really really did. They had welcomed you unofficially into the squad with open arms after Phoenix and Bob had adopted you one night at the Hard Deck. You’d been stood up, then dumped unceremoniously, and after crying off all your makeup in the bathroom, you’d been comforted by Nat, who had then introduced you to all her friends, all of whom seemed to dedicate the rest of their night to cheering you up. 
It was funny now to think that that was how this all started, but soon enough you were close with all of them. Well, almost all of them.
Hangman had been nice enough that first night, but after that it seemed as though he could care less about your presence at all. He wasn’t ever actively rude or mean to you, not at all, instead it was like you were just perpetually a stranger. Him snarking at you would be a step up, in your opinion. At least then you’d feel like he saw you as a friend, but as it stands now, his tight smiles and quiet chortles felt like a slap in the face compared to the mega-watt grins and regular peacockish behaviour he’d display with his other friends.
You hate yourself a little that it affects you so much. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. You liked Hangman. Although a little prideful and pricklish, you could see yourself getting along with him quite well, could exchange banter with him nicely, if he’d ever actually give you a chance. It certainly didn’t help that you weren’t immune to the way he looked, perfect in every single sense, smoulderingly hot even when he wasn’t trying. He was exactly your type, right down to a T, including, you suppose, the fact that he didn’t want you at all.
It had been bothering you more and more recently, and where once you would just shrug him off, now you realise, you’ve been actively avoiding hanging out with your friends, just to sidestep the kick in the guts that came every time he fixed you with a level, seemingly emotionless pity-smile. This week would mark one year since the night you’d been dumped and subsequently picked up again, and if you’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, you’d have agreed with Halo that you should have been celebrating with all your friends.
Phoenix easily waves down the boys, and soon enough your tall standing table is filled out with the rest of the team, and you let yourself relax for a moment as you accept several hugs, the longest of which is with Javy, who shakes you a little as he does, before he reaches for your drink and finishes it off in one.
“Happy one year, bay-bay!” he announces cheekily in the face of your protest, and you playfully swat him away. Coyote relents, but leans back just enough, with his mouth open, and you roll your eyes, before plucking the maraschino cherry from your now empty glass and placing it between his teeth.
The display is enough to make you laugh genuinely, and you watch with a far more relaxed and happy grin as Javy pushes back from the table, pointing at you, Phoenix and Halo.
“Another?” he asks, quickly gathering everyone’s orders and announcing the first round was on him as he disappears toward the bar. Unfortunately, that is when you realise his empty spot at the table is stepped into by someone else, and despite yourself, you can’t help but look.
If you hadn't known that he’d only just arrived, you might have fooled yourself into thinking Hangman been here all along, with how natural he looks leaning with one arm against the table, his eyes scanning the club behind you over your head as you take him in.
You refrain from cursing at just how good he looks in civvies. It was rare you’d see him in anything aside from either his flight suit or his tan uniform, and you’re fairly certain the only other time you had was at one of Dagger’s many beach parties, where he’d been barely dressed at all. Now though, Hangman is filling out a pair of dark wash jeans and a silk jade-green button down like nobody's business, his hair for once not slicked back and styled for work, and he has what you can only assume must be several days worth of stubble.
He looks goddamn good, and you almost vibrate all the way across the room because of it.
Bright green eyes suddenly lock on to yours, and you most hope he calls you out for staring, teases you relentlessly, but after a moment, he simply nods at you, and turns inward to the table.
“You look great,” he says simply, and after letting out a quiet sigh, you choose not to let this ruin your night.
“Thanks, so do you,” you reply, maybe a little sadder sounding than you intended. Hangman glances back over at you and your heart skips just a little when he lifts his chin at you.
“Same dress you were wearing the night that asshole dumped you, right?” His voice holds slightly more humorous inflection than usual and you hate yourself a little bit more for living for the crumbs he gives you.
“Yeah. figured it was thematic or whatever. Look at me now, and all that,” you wave a hand, and really try hard not to sound so glum this time, but you’re not sure it works. Hangman cocks his head, and you swear you see a playful glint spark in his eyes just as he opens his mouth, but unfortunately you never get to hear what he has to say, because Javy chooses that moment to reappear, placing down an armful of drinks and beers right between you.
With the reappearance of his friend, Hangman seems to go back to ignoring you, and you go back to pretending that it doesn’t bother you.
Five minutes ago you had been dancing wildly and laughing with Rooster and Phoenix, three drinks down and getting your giggle on. Now though, you’d managed to lose both your friends in the crowd, which had been okay at first, you weren’t exactly a wallflower and didn’t mind getting your flirt on with a stranger or two, but now, you were wishing hard that at any moment either Rooster or Phoenix might show back up again and save you.
While you weren’t a wallflower, you also weren’t anywhere near as cock-sure as Halo or Phoenix, you weren’t the type of girl who felt comfortable stamping on a creep’s foot and telling him to fuck off and that you weren’t interested.
Which is exactly what you wanted to do right now.
You were trying to be polite still, for some reason, but the drinks in your system prevent you from really reacting as necessary, even as you attempt to move the hands of the guy you're dancing with back to your hips and away from your ass.
“Hey, look, I’m going to get a drink!” you yell over the music, trying to extract yourself from this guy, but just as your luck would have it, he nods happily and makes to move with you, his hands still trying to feel you up.
You move anyway, hoping that at least you might be able to lose him in the crowd, but your new shadow seems determined to stick with you. You really don’t know at this point how to shake him, and as a last resort, you desperately begin scanning the edges of the crowd for any of your friends, so you can try and make eyes for them to bail you out.
Strangely, all your friends seem to have disappeared from the table you’d left them at, even Rooster and Phoenix are nowhere in sight, but you do catch sight of something familiar toward the bar. For once you don’t dread the sight of Hangman and his expressionless gaze, and for once, you attempt to maintain eye contact with him as he glances almost dismissively over at you.
Maybe it’s the look on your face that causes him to doubletake back at you when he briefly looks away, but whatever it is, you’re glad for it, because the next thing you know, the blond is frowning at you, his eyes flickering between you and your unwanted companion. You watch as he straightens up from leaning against the bar, his face filled with the kind of determination that you had only seen on him during the more heated rounds of pool at the Hard Deck.
You could almost let out a cry of joy when he pushes away from the bar and begins beelining towards you, seemingly making sure that he doesn’t lose sight of you even despite the throng of people that he has to weave in and out of. When he’s only a few metres away, his expression shifts from almost angry, into an easy cocky smile that he’s never directed toward you before. It nearly throws you off step, but even if it had, it wouldn’t have been an issue. In a few short strides, Hangman is in front of you, his arm smoothly slung around your shoulder and he uses it to tug you a few steps into his side, and away from your prior dance partner.
“There you are,” he says sweetly, actually sounding glad to see you for once. In your sheer relief at his rescue, you let your hand fall to his chest, your fingertips gliding over the soft silk of his shirt, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You blink up, mouth open to utter a soft thank you, and get ready to excuse yourself from the other man’s company, but a tugging at your hand cuts you off.
“Uh, I thought we were getting a drink,” the other guy interrupts, looking accusingly between you and Hangman. The blond barely even looks at him, an insult you know well, before he’s focused back on you, and arm around your shoulder pulling you even closer into him, and forcing your dance partner to release you.
“I’ll take it from here,” Hangman says to him, though he’s gazing at you, doing a damn convincing job of seeming lovesick. “You thirsty, sweetheart?” he adds as he begins to turn you, lead you away from the scene, and you find yourself embarrassingly speechless, only able to nod at for once being on the receiving end of Hangman’s notorious charm.
“Whatever, just so you know man, she didn’t say she was taken,” you hear from behind you. 
“She shouldn’t have to.” Hangman doesn’t even stop moving as he turns his head to shoot back, though his voice is filled with more annoyance than you’ve ever heard from him before. You could almost trick yourself into thinking he was actually mad on your behalf.
“Fucking slut.” The words are just loud enough for the both of you to hear, and even though you tense up at the accusation, you expect the both of you to keep moving, at least until you’re away from this guy. That doesn’t happen though. Hangman does stop this time, though unlike before, you don’t see a trace of anger on his face. Instead, he takes a step back toward the other man, his arm dropping from your shoulders to wrap snugly around your waist. He smiles wide and full, completely infuriatingly, and you see him size up the creep, look him deliberately up and down before he tips his head and opens his mouth.
“And yet, she’s still not going to fuck you,” he stays smiling, wide and cheshire-like. You feel yourself drop into a pool of complete and utter enamour with him, as at last he pulls you away again, leaving your unwanted partner behind, mouthing dumbly at the killer of a takedown he’d just endured, now totally forgotten by the both of you.
You’re still recovering from the utter annihilation when you finally reach the bar, and at last Hangman lets his hold on you drop, and he comes to stand next to you at the bar. He’s still grinning, though it looks like it's to himself, but it widens ever so slightly when he glances down at you while motioning for the bartender. He orders himself another beer, and the same cocktail Javy had stolen from you earlier before you’re finally able to get your thoughts straight again.
“Thanks for that,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor. Hangman looks almost surprised for a few seconds before he shrugs and pays the waiting barman.
“S’nothing.” he waves you off, but fixes you again with a slight frown moments later. “Are you alright? You looked pretty upset when you were trying to shake him.”
You think this might be the most genuine emotion the man has ever shown you, and you’re too far gone to question why, for now you simply want to bask in it.
“I’m no good at telling guys to piss off. Mostly they get the hint, but sometimes… that’s why I always stick with Phoenix or Halo,” you explain a little bashfully. You know how confrontational Hangman can be, you’d seen it for yourself tonight, so you know he likely sees your lack of assertiveness as some kind of weakness. Maybe that was why he didn’t like you?
Hangman frowns again, deeply this time, and hands you your drink. For a while he doesn't say anything, but it makes you anxious the way he doesn’t stop staring at you even as he takes a good long drink of his beer. After a moment he relaxes somewhat and glances away. You’re hoping maybe he’ll drop it, or maybe some of your friends will come along and spare you whatever comes next, but he doesn’t, and they don’t.
Hangman points back toward the dance floor with his beer hand and fixes you with a hard, intent stare.
“You feel like that again, you come find me, alright? I’ll tell them where they can go,” the blond tells you firmly, making you blink and splutter, but he holds up his hand and waves you off before you can deny him.
“Halo doesn’t always come out with us, and Phoenix and Rooster are currently eating face, so,” he takes half a step toward you and leans lower into your space, almost making you stumble back. “Next time,” he slings his arm across your shoulder again and grins almost maniacally. “Let Hangman sort them out for you.”
For the first time you really feel like perhaps Hangman is warming up to you. No longer were you feeding off the crumbs of attention, now you see the man revel in your sputtering embarrassment, fully teasing you like you’d wish he would for the past year. You were in his sights now, and you feel your whole body trill with satisfaction.
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Distracted pt 1
Part 2 ->
Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader
THIS IS SMUT MINORS PLS DO NOT.
CW: “Dear/Darling” terms used, oral f!receiving, 🐶style, multiple climaxes.
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You’re the new maid at the Phantomhive manor and we’re going on your third day of training. You being a single woman with not much history of romance you figured being a maid of a high class family would be a breeze. Freedom after hours, beautiful housing, etc. Until you met the head butler, Sebastian and God is he gorgeous. I mean this man is the most attractive human being you’ve ever laid your eyes on and he was basically perfect as what he does. No flaw or hiccup in anything he did, it was almost scary. He couldn’t have been human. Even him looking at you from a time to time throughout the day would send a wave through your body, causing you to feel a little needy. You held out though, not wanting to be distracted on your new job. I guess you understood why that red headed main Mey-Rin was so clumsy especially around Sebastian.
You were going about your daily tasks, the laundry for the house, nobody touched the young lord Ciel’s clothing other than Sebastian himself and honestly you were thankful for that, less work for you to do.
Today was difficult, given you haven’t even touched yourself since before you had started your new line of work, and you had a fairy high drive that you used to keep up with on a nightly basis. But given the new environment and close quarters to your co-workers you held off and damnit was it getting rough. Sebastian had manually shown you a few things to practice for the up and coming ball that were to be held in the manor and he wanted to make sure you knew how to dance properly, it’s unlikely you’d be asked but there was always a chance he needed you prepared.
-flashback to that morning-
Sebastian walked over to you with his soft smile he always had on his face, his perfect pale face. “Ah, y/n just the woman I was looking for. Come. I need you to do something for me.” You didn’t say much as you followed him into an open area in the manor. “Dance with me a moment.” He extended his hand out waiting for you to take it. You weren’t the best dancer but you never had to do it much before. You sheepishly put your hand in his, your face saying everything you were feeling. The anxiety, the unease and the overthinking. Sebastian gave a grin and squeezed your hand slightly. “Don’t be nervous my dear, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” He pulled you close, chests touching, his hand placed on your slower back, his touch is firm yet soft somehow. He’s warm, comfortingly warm.
Oh gosh, he’s so close to you. He smells nice, clean. Of course he does. He’s perfect. As Sebastian guides you through the basic steps and possible moves one could do in a traditional dance, he grew slightly irritated as you kept looking down at your feet, soon the hand holding your back moved up to your chin and lifted your gaze to his red eyes. “Y/n. It’s rude not to look at your dance partner. It shows that you’re uninterested. Look at me from now on, understand?” He was grinning, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger and it was annoying. How could you just stare at him the whole time, your body wasn’t prepared for that much eye contact. Let’s just say it was incredibly difficult to look at him, unwavering and not fumble with your steps but you somehow managed to get through it.
-end of flashback-
Yeah, that whole ordeal replaying in your head wasn’t helping your needy situation whatsoever. You kept spacing on the simplest thing and fumbling more than usual, it was irritating you so much. Finnian asked several times if you felt alright, he must’ve blabbed to Sebastian because soon enough the tall pale figure walked over to you. His eyes held a look of concern. “Y/n, Finnian told me you weren’t feeling well. Is that true?” He asked, leaning ever so slightly over you, his eyes dancing over your body. “Oh! No Sebastian. I’m fine really, thanks for checking on me-” you were cut off by his hand on your forehead, which caused you to start blushing. His eyebrow quirked up and he sighed. “Ah, you’ve got a slight fever, come now.” He p i c k e d you up bridal style and carried you towards your quarters. It was quiet in there given that everyone else was working around the manor. It was just you two.
You protested a few times on the way until he laid you onto your bed, walking over to your door and locking it.
What..?
Your eyebrows furrowed a bit and you looked up at Sebastian, “i- um. What are you doing, Sebastian?” You ask shyly, your mind going crazy at all the possible reasons, of course focusing on the dirtiest outcomes. He walked back over towards you, sitting next to you on the bed, reaching for the back of your dress.
“One with a fever shouldn’t undress themselves. If Mey-Rin were to do it, I fear she’d rip your uniform. That’d be a hassle for me to repair. If it makes your more comfortable I can do this blindfolded.” You could feel his gloved hands tickle your back, you weren’t wearing an undershirt, this uniform was quite warm when working sometimes. You breathe deep and slow, attempting to calm your nerves and hormones running rampant. “N-no it’s fine I-… I can do it.” You could very well do it yourself, but Sebastian doing it was a fantasy becoming reality. You thought it wouldn’t get much harder until you felt a warm breath on your neck, a low voice in your ear and a hand under your uniform holding firmly onto your waist. “I know what your issue is dear, you’re a bit… pent. I know the scent anywhere.” You turn and face him, bright red across your face. “H-hey!” He was incredibly close, impossibly close without kissing you. “S-Sebasti-“ he put a finger on your lips. “If you try and keep quiet I can help you. If you’d like of course.”
What?
Your eyes grew heavy as you gave into him, how could you not? He closed the distance between you and kissed you deeply, you whining as he did so, feeling such a touch for the first time in so long was bliss, it was dirty, it was sinful but it felt so good. His eyes open, his hands running about your body, feeling every curve, every crevice, remembering your shape and taking note on every special spot that seemed to get you going. One of his hands going up your skirt, onto your thighs, pulling down a stocking and laying you onto your back. Your body’s senses were on high and every touch felt like a fire being sent to your core. This was unlike anything you’ve felt before, it was intense and he was simply touching you. He swiftly pulled up your skirt and placed his thumb on your throbbing clit, making slight movements. You pull away from the kiss with a gasp and pushed the back of your head into the pillow beneath you, biting your lip to fight the moan wanting so desperately to escape. Your climax already beginning to build from this small stimulation. Sebastian placed his lips upon your neck, leaving small bites on your sensitive areas. His fingers moving gracefully over your clothed pussy, he felt how excited you were, the soaked panties were a dead giveaway for anyone but he could smell how aroused you were, which got him excited. Not that his body showed signs of it but internally he was going to devour you. He finally pulled back and pulled your panties down, revealing a wet mess. He didn’t miss a beat starting to eat you out, there was no warning, no teasing. Just his tongue on your hot core. You went to moan but his hand swiftly covered your mouth which drove you mad, he was good. Almost instinctually you moved your head and began to suck on his gloved fingers. He looked up at you and stopped for a moment, hands on either side of you, just looming above you. He pulled his hand out and let his fingertips linger at your lips. “Bite the glove.” He commanded, you did so and he slipped his hand out. “Good girl. I didn’t realize you were so naughty. Maybe you needed this more than I thought.” He threw the glove out of your mouth and resumed position. Fingers in your mouth and tongue back onto you. You wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you silly right then and there. But the things his tongue could somehow manage to do were inhuman, your climax quickly built, it was almost embarrassing. You whined and whimpered as you came, your whole body tensing up as he rode your through your climax, letting it settle before pulling away, a trail of your cum and his saliva connecting you and his mouth. He smirked, almost amused on how quickly that happened. “My my. How sweet you taste.” Oh my God.
As his fingers left your mouth you sat up and reached for his pants. He allowed you to undo his buttons, watching intently as he removed the other glove that remained on his right hand.
As you finally got his dick out, it was hard and ready, you were about to take it in your mouth before he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back. “No no, this is about you. I’ll enjoy myself plenty. Just submit.” You bit your lip, glancing back down at his member. “Y-yes sir.” He sure did like obeisance. He got off the bed and gestured tot he edge. “Bend over.” Holy shit what? You blinked and slowly began to move, he sighed. “Quickly now.” He grabbed your hips and brought you in front of him, lifting you with ease, turning you away and pushing you forward onto the bed. It was such a vulnerable position, your skirt covering you until he lifted the fabric and placed it onto your back.
You felt his tip meet your entrance and you whispered “oh fuck..” you heard a giggle, did he hear you?
“Such a filthy little mouth.”
He didn’t warn you, he rammed into you, having you take his entire length immediately, you couldn’t help but moan out as he did so. He soon grabbed a fistful of your pretty hair and put your face to the mattress. “Quiet now, I’m about to begin.” You bit your lip hard as he showed you no mercy. His quick and rough pace were enough to make you see the gates of heaven themselves. Well maybe gates of hell with how this was going. You were burying your face into the mattress moaning into it to muffle whatever you could. His name was your new favorite word, along with a string of words of your full submission. You felt your core begin to heat back up as you felt another orgasm coming quickly. He obviously felt it too as you tighten around his dick, your walls memorizing his shaft and forming to welcome it. It was the first sound you heard from him, a subtle grunt but it was proof of his own pleasure from this.
The room was filled with lewd sounds. The muffled moans, the slaps of your bodies, the absolute mess you were creating, the creaking of your bed frame. All of it being permanently trapped in the walls of your quarters. You’d never walk in here again and not think about this.
“That’s right. Cum for me, darling. Be a good girl and cum.” That was it, you were sent flying over your edge with another intense climax, bigger than the one before. As he slowed down your body twitched at every subtle move, you attempted to regain your breath but you could hardly move your legs. “S-Sebastian… but you didn’t...” You looked over your shoulder at him while he was cleaning up from the utter mess you made on his dick. “Oh dear y/n, I’m not sure you could handle the work it would take for me to cum myself.” He smirked. The way he said it didn’t make it sound condescending or cocky, just matter of fact. You shot up, shakily. Looking at him. “No! I can! I don’t want you to be disappointed or left unattended to!” He lifted your chin up once again, getting absurdly close. “Trust me darling, I’d break you. I don’t want to do that. If I want some more fun, you’ll hear a knock. Now rest.” With that he left you, in your sex filled room, cum soaked sheets and disheveled hair. What a filthy girl you are.
2K notes · View notes
turtleblogatlast · 4 months
Text
“Hey, Hueso.”
Hueso sighs.
Moving his gaze to his left, he sees Leo casually leaning up against the wall next to him. The turtle isn’t looking at him, instead he seems to be staring at nothing at all. Strange, but not necessarily unheard of from him.
“We’re closed, Pepino.” Hueso states, moving a little away to continue closing down his restaurant-
“Can any portal be portal-jacked?”
Hueso pauses.
It’s a simple enough question, one that Hueso’s fairly certain he’s given an equally simple - if not a bit harsh - answer to. Granted, it was more in regard to the likelihood of bad portals being jacked rather than any at all, so maybe now that Leo has admittedly become much more competent with his portals, he’s just worried it’ll happen again.
The invasion certainly made the boy more…cautious. Quieter, too.
“Well…” Hueso runs a bony hand down his face, “From what I know, the possibility always exists, Pepino. However, it is far, far more unlikely to be portal-jacked when the portal is made by a master, rather than some reckless amateur.”
Leo nods his head, almost vacantly. If Hueso wasn’t paying so much attention he may have missed the way Leo seemed to look a little sick. Despite himself, concern builds within him.
“So-“ Leo starts, his voice soft in a worrisome way before he clears it, “So…if the portal was just- really strong, it could still be jacked if made by a beginner?”
Hueso watches closely even as he nods in answer, “Sí. Your own portals are strong, no?”
Leo shakes his head, “No, like- imagine a portal way stronger than mine ever were. Something huge and stuff. More, uh. More locked up dimensions and time, less…just space.”
“Hm.” Hueso frowns, considering the strange question. “Well, in truth I have yet to come across many portals on that level, but there’s nothing to say that it’s not possible-“ The smallest furrow of Leo’s brow makes Hueso hurry to add, “-ah, but there’s also nothing that says it is possible.”
“So…it could happen? It’s not a definitive “no”?” Leo asks, the smallest of shakes present in his tone.
Hueso puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “No lo sé, Pepino. I haven’t come across such portals enough to give a good answer to you.”
Something in him hurts a bit when Leo visibly plasters on a grin. “Ah, man. Well- Gracias, Hueso, this was just a stupid thing to get all hung up on anyway.”
Hueso looks closer at this annoying, insufferable, horribly quiet and reserved boy. He sees the dark circles peaking, barely visible thanks to the mask. He sees the scars of healed injuries never to be forgotten displayed all across the boy’s body. He sees the look in Leo’s eyes, a depression and worry that is…hard to look at, in someone so young.
He sees all of this in Leo, and as much as he sometimes wishes to deny it, he cares enough about him to gently ask. “Are you okay, Pepino?”
“Oh- yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Hueso, I’m not about to whine to you again or anything.” Leo laughs, backing away out of Hueso’s reach. “It’s just a little question, just something that’s been bothering me, y’know? Wanted to ask an expert.”
“Pepino-“ Hueso starts, not quite sure what to say. The words “you can come to me whenever you need to” are true, and yet he can’t bring himself to say them before Leo already is swinging a katana.
In the light of his blue portal, Leo sends Hueso his signature, manufactured grin. “Thanks for listening, Hueso!”
And then he’s gone. Just like that. Standing tall and confident with not a shred of that worry and reservation and fear left behind. It was the look of a soldier heading off to a battle he knew was terrifying, but one he also knew he needed to keep a brave face for.
It would have been a commendable look, if not for the fact Leo was heading home.
Hueso stares at the residual sparks of the portal for just a moment longer before moving to continue closing. Next time, because there will always be a next time, Hueso will have a fresh pizza waiting.
And, hopefully, a bit of that insufferable turtle he knows so well comes back to grab a slice.
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whateverisbeautiful · 21 days
Text
♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL
#45: The Son's Best Friend (1.05)
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gif cred: @ricksmarlene
He was in love with his son’s best friend. 😭
I had said there were two big lines in TOWL that would basically need a whole reflective post dedicated to them. And one of those lines was Michonne telling Rick the only time she feels safe is when she’s with him in ep 4. The other is this line here in ep 5 where Rick just makes every Richonne moment in TWD even better by confirming that before Richonne became canon, Rick was well aware that he was in love with Carl’s best friend 🥹...
In any post I have on Richonne's season 6 canon scene I have always expressed that it is so clear Rick is fully aware he’s in love with her before they sit on that couch. He knows. Not subconsciously but consciously knows he’s in love with Michonne before they ever kiss.
And for Rick to confirm this years later was just heavenly and it has given me a lot of new thoughts on Richonne’s TWD journey. So you know we gotta go in-depth and talk about it. 😋
After talking about RJ and Judith, Rick turns the attention back to Michonne when he holds up some toothpaste. And I love the playful way he says, “I got you something.”
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
I always love a good callback so it’s great hearing him say this when he also told Michonne, "I got you something” regarding the mints during their season 6 canon episode.
Back then he had to make do with mints since the toothpaste sunk to the bottom of a lake - but now years later, Rick finally got her that toothpaste she wanted. Soon as he got it, she did. 😭
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I really do marvel over the way TOWL came and just checked pretty much every possible Richonne thing we could have wanted and didn’t even know we wanted off the list.
And seeing Rick get this toothpaste was such a great full-circle callback to the episode where Richonne became official. Dental hygiene has been blessing the Richonne ship since season 5, y’all. And we’re still getting blessed by it in 2024. 🙌🏽
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I’ve also always loved that Rick remembers every detail about Michonne so of course he remembers the exact flavor of toothpaste she likes as he walks over to her and says, “I think it was baking soda and spearmint. As requested.” So cute and Rick is the only man ever, just saying. 😋
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gif cred: @ex0rin
I love his little playful flirty energy and that Michonne laughs as she immediately remembers the moment he’s calling back to. Michonne being courted by Rick is one of my favorite things and I love seeing her be so smitten by her handsome man yet again. Rick and Michonne are both a pro at getting each other to laugh and smile. 👌🏽
Then I love that she takes the toothpaste and all flirtily says, “Man of his word.” The way she’s smiling at him is so sweet. And then she says, “it only took a couple lifetimes” because they really have lived a whole lot of life since that day in season 6. 
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gif cred: @ex0rin
And then next, y’all…I was attacked. I was attacked with a line so good it stayed stuck in my head for weeks. 😊
Because Rick then looks at Michonne and says,
“I was in love with my son’s best friend. I didn’t know what to do.” 🫠
The best. 😭😭😭
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gif cred: @ex0rin
I had been hoping that TOWL would give Richonne a reflective moment to talk about and look back on their love story and this was such a great way to do it. It explains so much.
The ‘I was in love with my son's best friend’ line really is informative and got me reflecting back on Richonne's journey in The Walking Dead. And something that hit me was thinking about the tail end of season 4 - which I've always felt Rick was most definitely in love with Michonne by then.
I used to think it was only subconscious for him at that point but honestly...now I like to think he was even more aware he was in love with her than I originally thought at this time. He still was dealing with a lot mentally and externally of course, but he knew the love he had for Michonne was different in 4b.
And here’s where the son’s best friend part factors in - Rick realizes he’s in love with Michonne in 4b and what he also knows full well is that his son adores her and needs her. So at the same time that he’s realizing his feelings for Michonne, Carl is also forming this invaluable bond with Michonne. And Rick very clealry sees that.
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gif cred: @tangerineprettygreen
Rick sees the way Carl genuinely laughs and has fun with Michonne over breakfast and on the train tracks. He sees how after the horrific trauma with the Claimers, Carl feels safe enough to fall asleep in Michonne’s lap.  (I like to think that Rick opened the car door to say it was time to head out and he saw his baby restful in her arms)
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And while that’s more of a headcanon, we literally see Rick watch Michonne and Carl have a heart-to-heart in the forest that concludes with a hug during the s4 finale.
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All of this is part of why this line in TOWL ep 5 is so fitting. Because during that s4 era, Rick had this romantic love for Michonne rising to the surface within him, but he also felt he needed to not act on those feelings because he saw his son needed Michonne just as much.
Every time Rick started looking at Michonne with those ILY eyes, he just had to look slightly to the side and see Carl looking up at Michonne as his best friend and safe space. And so as a caring dad, Rick didn't want to risk getting in the way of Carl and Michonne's bond.
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But as Michonne says - Richonne's love can’t be denied - and it also can’t be avoided. So while Rick thought he could fend off or table his feelings - or idk what he thought he could do actually because he didn’t know what to do either - but any denial of their love was always going to be futile because Richonne was inevitable. They were meant to be. 😌
And one of the things that will always make my heart smile is knowing that Carl clearly seemed to feel Rick and Michonne were meant to be too, because he truly was not at all shocked when they finally got together.
When Carl found out about Richonne he fully approved and looked like the only thing that surprised him was that it hadn’t happened already. My boy Carl was looking at both Rick and Michonne with some 'duh, I been knew' energy the day after they got together. 😋
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(Also, kids are super perceptive so I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Carl could tell Rick was a lot happier in his relationship with Michonne than in his previous marriage.)
It turned out Rick never had to be worried about his love for Michonne complicating things between Michonne and Carl because not only was Richonne meant to be but so was Grimes Family 2.0.
They were always going to be the family they became because that’s just how destiny works. Beautiful destiny. 😌
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(Side note: A few years ago I wrote a RIR post about that season 4 moment when Rick asks Michonne if she needs help cleaning up those walkers. To me, it really felt like Rick might have been intentionally waking up early to see Michonne. And after this “I was in love with my son's best friend” line now I'm just convinced that it’s true. 😋 Rick wanted to spend some alone time with his crush in that s4 scene. 👌🏽 Hence his cute little pouty face when Michonne warmly declined.)
And I love that Rick also admits he didn’t know what to do about the fact that he’d fallen in love with his son's best friend. That implies he thought about what to do and just came up short with an answer because he so badly didn’t want to potentially jeopardize Michonne’s vital role in his family’s life by trying to advance the relationship if it wasn’t something she also wanted.
It's funny how Rick and Michonne are very observant people but were hesitant to know for sure that the other really was into them romantically pre-canon. Even despite all the blatant attraction between them both. 😊
Had Rick or Michonne been observing any other two characters interact in the same way they do, they would have quickly clocked that the two have feelings for each other. But between them, they thought they had to ‘work up to’ finding out if the feeling was mutual when really they’ve been the others for the taking pretty much since season 4.
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But it makes perfect sense that what took Rick so long to make his move wasn’t solely the world screaming at them, or the Lori baggage and PTSD he needed to heal from - it was also that he felt he’d need to tread lightly with his son’s best friend and not do anything to get in the way of Michonne and Carl's connection.
With what a loverboy Rick is, it actually would track that when love hit him he’d become aware of it sooner rather than later. Plus, the time between TWD 4.15 when Rick was looking at Michonne like 😍 on those train tracks & TWD 6.10 when Richonne got together on that couch was years for us but it was a much shorter span of time for the characters.
If Rick knew by the end of season 4 that he was in love with Michonne, to me his actions in season 5 really further solidify that he was in love with her and was at least somewhat aware that love was part of why she has so much influence on him and his decisions.
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And when I think about it, even if Rick knew he was in love with Michonne at the end of season 4, there was hardly any room or privacy to forwardly act on the realization of those feelings during the majority of season 5.
They were busy escaping the jaws of cannibals, traveling on the road with scarce resources and team family always around, searching for a home base, and then arriving at ASZ, a place that initially put Rick more on edge than when they were roughing it outside the walls.
So that, on top of feeling like he can’t and won’t intervene in his son’s friendship with her by making his feelings known, makes a lot of sense as to why it took Rick the time it did to finally make his move. 
But even at a time where the weight of the world was on Rick's shoulders and so few could reach him in season 5, Michonne always could. She had his heart and there are moments in s5 where Rick could even be hinting that he knows she has his heart too.
I think about the 'Rules Keep Changing' scene in TWD 5.11 when Rick talks to Michonne about the rules changing regarding when to let someone in. After TOWL, I feel like that moment can be interpreted as Rick slowly coming around to maybe changing the rule that he can’t be with Michonne because she’s Carl’s bestie.
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And you know what we gotta address next - when team family arrives at Alexandria, even the extremely brief and messy Jessie situation further aligns with Rick being in love with his son’s best friend if I do say so myself.
With Rick entering ASZ in love with a woman he's told himself is off limits because of his son, that would likely make Rick even more eager to divert that existing energy within him elsewhere since he at the time doesn’t feel he can bring that energy to his sons best friend, despite being in love with her.
It's like, on top of being rooted in his PTSD and paranoia, intervening with the Anderson situation gave Rick something to preoccupy that in-love-with-Michonne part of himself that he's trying to deny.
Even tho Rick still very much does bring that 'ILY' energy to Michonne in so many of Richonne's season 5b/6a scenes. Like how he's very adamant about securing the home she wants, how he 'signs the papers' with ASZ after Michonne confides in him about wanting a job and wanting this place to work, and how he directly lets her know that he knows she could've successfully talked him out of his under-the-table plans.
(Side note: The more I see this great Richonne season 5 finale scene, the more I feel like Rick actively wants to hint to Michonne that she's it for him with everything he's saying and doing here. It's just our girl Michonne was not yet translating all these signs from him as romantic interest in her, even tho Slick Rick was real obvious)
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Also I noticed how the driving force of that whole thing with Jessie was never really rooted in Rick thinking ‘I want her’ but rather ‘She needs me.’
Rick mainly seemed to be thinking about how he was right for Jessie as a woman in need of protection, and he never really seemed to be assessing if she was right for him too. Never seemed to be considering his compatibility with her or focusing in on her based on anything unique/specific about her beyond surface-level attraction and the fact that she resembled what he was used to with Lori.
He didn’t evaluate any specifics or long-term outcomes with that Anderson situation (like how Carl would feel about all this) and he didn't tell anyone close to him about his dazed pursuit of her. And now I think that part of that is because Rick already knew the woman who was right for him. He knew the woman who had his heart and love already.
But the woman he wants is the woman he thinks he can't have because, being the selfless guy he is, he was not going to interfere with his son's relationship with his favorite person, even if Michonne had become Rick's favorite person too.
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Women like Lori and Jessie were the type who would need to rely heavily on Rick’s protection to survive that world. And that's what Rick had been accustomed to. It's how he came to understand his own worth and value - through what he can do to save and rescue others.
However, Michonne doesn’t need Rick to survive in that way - but she does need him to live.
Michonne ushered in a whole new territory for Rick. One that was so refreshing and welcomed because she and him could lean on each other and not have things be one-sided. And I've always appreciated the way two very capable characters like Rick and Michonne so deeply and healthily need each other even with their individual capabilities. And I'm so happy with how that need for each other evolved into the deepest love for each other.
It just has always been so clear that by the time Rick kissed Michonne in s6 he was already fully in love with her. On that couch, they both kissed each other like they'd been wanting to do that a long while. That's part of why once Rick and Michonne kissed, their status didn't feel like gf/bf but husband and wife.
(Side note: I love how in TWD 6.11 Jesus assumed Rick and Michonne were Carl’s parents after walking in on them in the bedroom. That was Richonne’s very first time sleeping together and Jesus still quickly got the vibe that Rick and Michonne were in a committed relationship. ☺️)
(Another side note: it wasn't until this year that I noticed there's a quick wordless moment on that couch in 6.10 where Rick looks at Michonne and subtly gets permission to get on top of her. 😊 As many times as I've seen Richonne scenes there's always something new to catch.)
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This immense love Richonne has for each other - it's not just made out to be this romantic and powerful in their spin-off series, it’s what it’s always been.
And when Rick and Michonne finally got together in 6.10 it wasn’t ushering in this wildly new dynamic between them - it was simply acknowledging their existing married dynamic and finally adding physical intimacy to the union.
Also, another one of the million things that I love about Richonne's first kiss in season 6 is that it seems like they immediately know this is right. Them being together romantically felt so right to them. And not only was connecting that way as good as they thought it'd be...it was even better. 😌
And after their canon ep, Rick was definitely of the mindset that he and Michonne were a ‘together forever’ couple in the way he was telling Michonne's bestie Carl 'This is different' the very next morning. 😋 Rick and Michonne were just in bed what a few hours ago? And Rick still already knew for certain what he has with Michonne is different and long-term. ☺️
Knowing he knew for a while that he was in love with his son's best friend, it makes it even more clear why Rick had that nervous energy when finally telling his son about him and Michonne. Behind that RV, Rick felt like he was approaching Carl not just as his son but as Michonne's best friend. Rick wanted to assure Carl that he has good intentions with his best friend since he knows how much Carl loves and is protective of Michonne.
Rick told Carl, "I was gonna tell you about me and Michonne..." and I'm convinced Rick meant that for a while he's been meaning to tell Carl about him and Michonne, not just since the night before.
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(Side note: I was thinking about that scene in 6.12 when Rick leads a meeting in the church, telling ASZ about the plan to take out the Saviors. I always noticed how Rick ends the meeting by seemingly just walking out while they’re all still sitting there...and now, no one can tell me Rick didn’t walk out to go straight to moving Michonne’s stuff into his room. 😂
I believe this was their first time back home since his night with Michonne so Rick was like ‘listen community, I have some equally important matters to attend to like moving a bunch of tight pants and tank tops into my bedroom dresser so meeting adjourned.’ 👌🏽😋)
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So now that I personally interpret that Rick was aware that he had fallen in love with Michonne earlier than previously thought, it led me to wonder about when I think Michonne was aware she'd fallen in love with him. While Rick and Michonne fell in love around the same time in season 4 to me, I feel Michonne became conscious of her feelings at a later time than Rick.
I'd say Rick knew his feelings for her before they entered ASZ. Like somewhere in between the train tracks scene in 4.15 and when Michonne takes Rick's hand outside the gates of ASZ in 5.11, he knows he's in love. And I think Michonne started to know consciously that she’d fallen in love with Rick after her chat with Deanna about what she wanted for herself.
It makes sense it would take a bit longer for Michonne to process and be aware of her feelings considering the losses and isolation she’d experienced at the start of the end of the world. She had a lot of time to wall up her heart after losing Mike and Andre, whereas Rick, even after he lost Lori, still had kids and a group he had to be present for.
Michonne was aware she felt safe with Rick and that he meant a lot to her for a while, but she just had to come around to fully realizing she was also utterly in love with him all this time too.
And again, it is always a little funny to me that Michonne thought she had to 'work up to' making her feelings known to Rick and seeing if it’s mutual when so many team family and ASZ members could already see that Rick and Michonne had something special between them and were each other's person.
(Another nother side note: I know we've wondered before why the show didn’t explore more men showing interest in Michonne when she’s an absolute catch in every way, but I think I might know why men weren’t more directly approaching her on that type of timing. After season 3 when the group was really small, season 4a when she was keeping herself at a friendly distance from tf, and 4b when she was pretty much only around the Grimes boys, she then had Rick Grimes - and Season 5 'Ain’t Nothing To Play With' Rick Grimes at that - showing clear signs that Michonne was the special woman in his life. I don’t think many men were gonna be bold enough to risk interfering with that when Richonne was basically out here already spoken for and living about as 'married with kids' as could be even before they became an official couple. 😅)
Also just hearing Michonne be referred to as Carl’s best friend again after all these years is so special. 🥹
She really was his best friend from season 4 to the very end, and I love that Rick has always known and appreciated that about Michonne and Carl’s tight-knit bond. 
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So then I'm extra elated when Rick adds, “Then you asked for that toothpaste. I was damned if I didn’t find something.” 🫠💕
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gif cred: @ex0rin
Every time I’ve watched that domestic opening scene in their canon ep, I’d always think about how clear it is that Rick was going to be adamant to bring home something to give Michonne. And that 'something' he found - those mints - will always hold a special place in their journey. 🥰
That’s another great thing about TOWL too is it allows you to watch Richonne's TWD journey with fresh eyes. Like the TWD Richonne moments already never got old but now not only do they not get old they almost feel a little fresh and new too.
And I love watching their moment on the couch and knowing when Rick reaches for those mints he's well aware that he pocketed those because he’s in love with her and wanted to show he could provide what Michonne wanted.
Like he acts like 'oh yeah I forgot, I have these mints'…but nah that was not an afterthought. That was a move lol. 😋 And honey, the move worked. 👌🏽
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Rick was on that run with Daryl like if I do nothing else today I got to find something for her. He’s loved her a long time, y'all. We been knew and now it’s more than confirmed and it’s great. 🙌🏽
I love how, even after all these years, Rick still remembers the details of the day he and Michonne took their relationship to a new level and that he now gets to recall the details with Michonne. Just as his dreams suggested, falling in love with Michonne and Michonne falling in love with him are some of the things Rick is most grateful for in his life, so of course he remembers these things. I'm sure that man could give a play-by-play of that entire 6.10 day, from the morning to night. 😋
And I love that Rick wants Michonne to know he remembers. He wants her to know that everything about her and their love story is important to him. 🥲
Then it’s so sweet how Michonne hears this and pulls Rick in close to let him know, “You found your moment.” He really did, because bringing home those mints set off a canon. 😌
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gif cred: @ex0rin
And then I love their flirty energy with Rick asking, “Is this one?” And Michonne all cutely shrugging and being like, look into my eyes, sir... “You tell me.” 😏 The way she’s smiling at him 🥹 - she’s down bad for her man y'all and it makes total sense.
Also, them playing all coy about whether this is a moment always makes me laugh cuz Richonne can turn any and every moment into a moment. 😋
Like they had a whole horny moment when CRM soldiers were just a few feet away and they didn't even try to align behind the bark of that boneless tree. They also had a quick makeout session mere seconds before a giant building collapsed. So they knew good and well this was a moment in the gift shop. It’s always a moment for Richonne, and we love this about them. 😇
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gif cred: @nat111love
And because it’s always a moment, Rick leans in as they kiss and it’s just the best yet again. The way they said kissing is going to be embedded in the plot wherever it can is yet another TOWL blessing.
I love the kiss and then I especially love that Rick then kisses her neck. Prior to the show, I had been hoping for a Richonne gesture like this in TOWL and we got it cuz Richonne is the gift that keeps on giving and we’re spoiled.😋 They made me and @ririchonne's wish come true 🙌🏽😌
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gif cred: @lousolversons
Also, Richonne has the best grown youthful love in media if you ask me and this moment was giving young energetic love in the best way. They have so many kisses in TOWL and each one is hot and sweet. 💯
So as they’re again getting lost in their blissful Richonne bubble, Michonne spots something and pulls away, and I love how Rick was so immersed in what they had going on that he’s a little caught off guard when she does that. 😋
And it’s so sweet that Michonne knows this and whispers, "sorry," giving him another kiss before checking out the front desk place. I love that little kiss and the way his arms are still around her until the last second.
Michonne notes that there’s a cabin nearby and Rick asks if she saw the sign on the road. Michonne smiles and takes a key, saying, “Looks like we found a place to stay for the night.” Fuel, food, room and board - I’m telling you, the Universe loves providing for Richonne because they know they’re the best soulmates in the land. 💁🏽‍♀️
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gif cred: @nat111love
I love that when Richonne are in sync with each other, things just work out. And Rick notes this as he says, “Luck keeps holding up.” Normally those would be famous last words, but for Richonne they really do just win. 👌🏽
Now, I saw that there was originally a little flirty endbeat to this scene in the script that got cut. If that was filmed then I hope they release it as a deleted scene cuz I'm greedy when it comes to Richonne lol.🤞🏽 Either way, what did make the cut was excellent and I love that there was just so much Richonne gold within one scene.🥰
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gif cred: @nat111love
Michonne was in love with her best friend's dad. 🥲 Rick was in love with his son's best friend. 🥲 And my heart will always be warmed thinking about how Rick knew he was in love with his son’s best friend and now that very woman has given him a son that he’ll soon get to meet. 🥲
Rick really went from being in love with his son’s best friend to being in love with his sons' and daughter’s mother. What a journey. 👌🏽🥹
160 notes · View notes
padfootagain · 9 months
Text
When We Were Lying
Hi! Here is another Hozier fic! Had a lot of fun with this trope, as always, I hope you’ll like this little story! Tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x reader
Warnings: none… a bit of strong language and an awful lot of longing? Fake-dating AU
Summary: Your ex is attending your family gathering for Christmas and there is no way you're going to face that alone. Of course, you drag your best friend into this, and he's too smitten with you to say no when you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Although, the fact that you both have feelings for each other might end up being a problem...
Word Count: 10055
Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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“Sorry… what?!”
Andrew was blinking at you. There was something unnerving in his frown and the intensity of his stare, but you had to bear it. After all, you had no other choice.
“You’re the only one I can ask to do this with me…”
“I’m absolutely not doing that!”
“Why not?”
“Why not?! Why not?! Do I really have to answer that question or have you found back your sanity?”
“Andrew…”
“I am not going to lie to your entire family at Christmas just to save your stupid arse!”
“But I said ‘please’…”
“Y/N!”
“Andrew!”
“This is a terrible idea! I’m not doing that!”
He stared at you as if you had lost your mind, and in all fairness, perhaps you had… for a part at least. Why else would you be sitting in your best friend’s comfortable sofa, in the middle of his large and yet welcoming living room, asking him to lie to your family and pretend that you were together? Only for a day though, just for the traditional meal on Christmas, the boring and tedious lunch on the 25th where you exchanged gifts and stabbing remarks with your least favourite members of your family.
Not that you were not used to face this tragedy on your own; if your arse of an uncle had been the only obstacle to overcome this year, you would have emerged with flying colours. But this year was different. It was different, because your cousin Samantha was coming with her boyfriend… aka your ex-boyfriend. The one she had slept with ten months ago. The one who had betrayed you and broken your silly heart. The one you wished you could put laxatives into his drinks, or pierce his tires, or put some very strong pepper into his tea… Something Machiavellian like that…
But as your chances of poisoning his food at the Christmas lunch were limited, you had to settle for plan B. Which was simple enough: convince your best friend to pretend to be madly in love with you, so you would not have to bear any comments from your family about your broken heart and the fact that you had been cheated on by your fucking cousin Samantha… and perhaps, with a bit of luck, you could also make your ex, Craig, jealous.
A brilliant plan, if there was ever any. Only, Andrew didn’t seem to share your optimism.
“You’ve lost it, this time,” he went on, eyes wide, aghast as he slowly shook his head.
You couldn’t blame him for thinking this. Especially given the fact that your feelings for him would probably end up being a problem. But despite your silly little crush on him… who else could you ask such a favour to? The two of you had known each other for years. He was your best friend, you were ready to do anything for him. No one else would accept…
“Andy… I know I’m asking a lot…”
“This will never work. Beyond the fact that this is pure madness, it will never work! Your parents know me! They know we’re not together!”
“Friends get together all the time!”
“No one will believe us. And you know me, I hate… PDA and stuff like that… I can’t… even when it’s real, I struggle with that stuff. I can’t fake it.”
“On the contrary, that’s great! Cause then, we don’t have to act too much like we’re together, and we can just blame it on your well-known aversion for PDA!”
“No. I’m sorry, Y/N, but this time… it’s a no. I’m not doing that. I’m not playing fake-boyfriend for you.”
You heaved a defeated sigh.
“And I thought you would kill for me.”
“I’m a pacifist… a punch across the jaw is the best I can do.”
“Lousy friend.”
“Fuck off! You think you asking me to lie to your entire family is better? Just so you won’t have to hear them complaining about you being single? You think that’s not worse?”
You saw the way his expression saddened when yours did, when the tinge of playfulness left your features. His voice was softer when he spoke again.
“Why is it so unbearable anyway, huh? You’ve forgotten how my mother can be? I’ve got that refrain sang to me all the time too. It’s not so bad.”
You bit on your lip and lowered your gaze before answering, holding back tears that came blurring your vision of Andrew’s soft carpet.
“Craig and Sam will be there. Together.”
You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was clenching his jaw.
“I don’t… I don’t want to have to face that on my own. I’m not sure I can…”
You barely had time to brush a tear away that Andrew was holding you close, arms wrapped tightly around your frame. And you let him pull you even closer, until your ear was pressed against his heart, until he could drop a tender kiss to the top of your head. He heaved a sigh.
“Could you still come? As a friend?” you asked, voice trembling even if you didn’t want it to.
You hated being like this. Fragile. Crying. Not over the betrayal. You wanted to wave a perfect life at your ex so he would see all that he was missing, until he regretted everything. It was petty, but true. Instead, you would be the one sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a couple of weeks, trying not to throw up nor cry while you witnessed your ex and your cousin playing perfect couple…
Andrew heaved a painful sigh.
“I’ll come.”
“Thank you.”
“No, I mean… I’ll do it. The whole crazy plan. I’ll do it. I’ll be your boyfriend for the day.”
You pulled away just enough to look up at him. There were traces of annoyance in his gaze, but a lot of tenderness too as his eyes met yours, hazel irises turning greener in the quiet light of a late afternoon.
“Really?” you asked, voice shy even though you craved for confidence.
“Really. But you’d better make sure that your mother still loves me when you break it to her that we’re not together anymore! I’m not giving up on her amazing lasagnas, not even for you.”
“I have the recipe, you know?”
“Your mother’s taste better.”
“Fucker!”
“Don’t insult me, or I’ll take everything back and let you deal with this bunch of assholes on your own!”
“Sorry!” you quipped, hiding your face into his chest again, and you heard him mumbling some complaints, playing grumpy, but you knew better.
You were smiling as you listened to his low voice lulling you back into a soothed state. You wondered how he did that. How a mere hug and some whispering were all it took to calm you down, to make you feel safe all over again, when you were so damn insecure all the time.
You lost track of your own thoughts when his large hand came to rest on the back of your head, keeping you close.
And you were glad that you could explain a lack of PDA in front of your family, because there was no way for you to survive a whole day with the man you secretly loved holding you like that…
“Do you hate me? For being selfish and dragging you into this?” you asked him, voice muffled by his woollen jumper.
“No,” he shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
“Even if I called you to get rid of a body with me?”
“Erm… As long as I’m not the one cutting it into pieces.”
You both let out a chuckle.
“I’ll make sure to stain your carpet with the blood of my victims.”
“Now, that would make me hate you, for sure.”
“I knew you’d choose your carpet over me.”
“Yeah, but what a carpet it is!”
“It doesn’t make you lasagna though…”
“I only like your mam’s.”
You smiled, but remained quiet. You were serious again when your voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over your two entwined frames.
“Seriously, though… I’m sorry I’m asking you this. I just… I just don’t see what else I can do. I don’t think I can stomach seeing the two of them as a happy couple while I’m still… desperately single. A real loser…”
“Stop talking about yourself like that,” he admonished, voice genuinely annoyed. “I hate it when you do that. You’re… you’re amazing, Y/N. More than you realise. And Craig and Samantha are terrible people. So… stop blaming it all on yourself. They can rot in hell.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in heaven and hell.”
“You know what I mean.”
A pause while you smiled, wool tickling your cheek.
“Thank you.”
He rubbed your back, gesture soft, taking his time.
“Don’t mention it.”
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“You owe me so much…”
“I thought you said ‘don’t mention it!’”
“Don’t mention it, my arse…”
You laughed at him, you couldn’t help it. As Andrew and you walked together down the lane leading to your parents’ house, you couldn’t refrain your laughter. Andrew looked nervous… like the day he had met your parents for the first time, years ago.
“Stop acting like they don’t know you. My family adores you.”
“That’s until they learn I’m lying through my teeth.”
“You’re an infamous liar, anyway.”
“Hey!”
He faked outrage, making you laugh even more, and this time, he couldn’t refrain his own smile.
“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this…”
“Me neither. You must have lost your mind, too.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it, and sealed his lips again. There was something almost sad on his features for a second, and you wanted to ask if he was alright, but you were already in front of the green door.
“You ready?” he asked instead, an encouraging smile adorning his handsome features now, the cold of December making his cheeks and nose redden.
And you had to struggle through missing heartbeats to nod your head. He looked lovely like this, hair in a half-bun, some curls still free, hair tied only to keep the strands away from his face. He was wearing the grey beanie you adored, chin buried in a huge matching scarf…
“We’ll be fine,” he reassured you, all traces of playfulness or annoyance gone from his warm voice.
“Let’s make Craig so jealous he’ll choke over some pudding.”
You both chuckled, and Andrew nodded, lovely crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes as he kept on smiling.
“Sounds like a plan.”
You took a deep breath before knocking.
There was no turning back.
You glimpsed at Andrew one more time as you waited for your mother to come and open the door, and you thought it truly was the worst idea you had ever had, to ask Andrew to do this… Andrew, of all people. If he was the only choice, he also was the worst one. You simply hoped you wouldn’t have to fake too much… because your heart sped up at the mere thought of holding his hand…
What an idiot you were, getting yourself into so much trouble… at what point had you imagined it was a good idea to ask the man you secretly loved to be your fake boyfriend?!
Your thoughts were interrupted though, as your mother finally appeared. You grinned at her as she hurried to give you a hug.
Andrew had barely closed the door behind him that he was receiving a warm hug as well.
“Ha! Andy!” your mother welcomed him, making him laugh. “It’s so good to see you, it’s been too long.”
“It has indeed…”
“And finally! You two came to your senses!”
You frowned, but didn’t have time to ask your mother what she meant. Instead, you were pulled into the whirlwind that was your family.
Andrew remained close to you, and you were not surprised. There were plenty of people gathered in the large living room, several generations together in the warmth of your childhood home, and Andrew wasn’t too good with dealing with so many people. When you turned to him to offer him a gentle smile, one he immediately offered as well, he seemed a little uncomfortable, hands in his pockets as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, head slightly bent, as to appear less tall than he truly was, a desperate attempt at hiding. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, such a stark contrast with the confident musician he was each time he stepped on a stage.
You introduced him to the members of your family he didn’t know (including your terrible uncle, who didn’t fail to be rude, hence living up to his reputation). And everything was going fine, except perhaps for the uncontrollable burst that sparked through your heart and chest every time you called Andrew your boyfriend. You pushed to the side the longing that washed over you at the thought that you wished the word could be true…
But it wasn’t the right time for such consideration. After years spent as Andrew’s friend while harbouring feelings for him, you had grown amazingly talented at hiding the love that coursed through each of your cells every time you saw him, or heard him, or thought of him…
But that was not the right time for such thoughts. Indeed, a new couple was just entering the room…
… and suddenly everyone was quiet.
Samantha and Craig seemed to not notice the sudden silence, or else they were simply very good at hiding it. You couldn’t control your expression as you winced, turning towards the window.
But you were surprised by Andrew’s touch, as he reached for your hand. Fingers shy at first, barely the ghost of a caress across your knuckles. When you leaned closer, fingers searching for his too, he intertwined them together, and as you turned to him, he gave you the warmest smile. A silent gesture to tell you it would be okay.
You were even more surprised when he pulled you closer, a gentle tug at your joined hands. You had discussed, before coming to your parents’ house, the boundaries you needed to respect for today. Holding hands was okay. Touching arms, hair or a waist was okay. You had not discussed kissing, but you reckoned that it was a clear no. An arm around the other’s shoulders or back was good too.
But now, Andrew was pulling you gently closer until you were settled against his chest, and he bent to softly kiss your hair, lips lingering on the top of your head for several seconds. The gesture was so tender, you had to close your eyes…
And then his lips were gone, leaving behind the quiet sound of a kiss and their warmth. When you opened your eyes again and looked up at him, Andrew was blushing, but he was smiling too. And there was something in the way he was looking at you…
“Y/N! How good to see you!”
You turned towards Samantha, hence interrupting your train of thoughts, perhaps for the better.
You forced a polite smile, but didn’t go as far as to completely hide that you weren’t happy to see her.
“Sam! How are you?”
“Good! I’m good! What about you?”
She only then seemed to notice Andrew’s presence by your side, an impressive performance, given his height and the fact that you were still leaning into his chest…
“Oh, hi! Hmmm… Andrew, is it? I remember you! You’re Y/N’s friend!”
“Boyfriend now, actually,” you corrected her, and you were amused by the look of surprise on her face.
“Oh! Congratulations! Good for you!”
Around the room, conversations had started again, filling up space once more and giving you at least some privacy… although you knew it to be but a relative truth. Your relatives who stood closer to you were probably listening closely, unwilling to lose any crumb of the conversation and drama that might ensue.
Behind Samantha, Craig finally greeted you, more uncomfortable than his girlfriend was. He grew even more uncomfortable when he offered his open hand to Andrew.
“Good to see you again, Andy.”
You hated that Andrew had to let go of your hand to shake Craig’s, but his fingers found yours again as soon as the greeting was over. It was rare to see Andrew with a clearly forced smile on his face, he was generally better at hiding his discomfort, a habit of always being polite.
“Craig,” followed by a nod was the only greeting Andrew gave your ex, and you recognised protectiveness in the way he moved slightly closer to you, placing himself between you and Craig.
And you felt a little guilty for the sense of pride that you got from that gesture, knowing you shouldn’t be reading anything even remotely romantic into it… but then again, you were but human. And humans always liked dreaming…
“How are you two doing?” Craig asked, and you nodded.
“Good, we’re both doing good. You?”
“Oh, we’re great! We’re planning on going for a trip for our anniversary, don’t we, dear?” Samantha went on, turning to her boyfriend, who merely nodded… rightly uncomfortable.
“Amazing!” you managed to get out between gritted teeth.
“And for how long have you two been together, then?” Craig asked, changing the subject quickly.
“A couple of months,” you answered, a detail you and Andrew had agreed on.
“So, it’s still the honeymoon phase, then,” Sam nodded knowingly, although you weren’t sure what kind of knowledge that was…
“It’s pretty new,” you nodded.
“How lovely! But… I thought the two of you were friends,” she went on, acting confused.
“We were,” you confirmed, and when you struggled to continue, it was Andrew’s turn to step in.
“And now we’re more than that.”
The two of you exchanged a smile, and again, you noticed the way he was blushing.
Craig nodded his head, and you saw how he was frowning, the kind of expression he wore when he was upset over something.
“It’s funny that you were friends for so long and then all of a sudden… you decide to be more,” he spoke with a tinge of venom in a tone he tried to turn honeyed.
You looked for an excuse, but Andrew was the one to answer again. And you were taken aback by his words… and even more so by how earnest they sounded, although… although he could only be lying.
“We… we’ve spent a long time tiptoeing around that line. I think… we’ve had feelings for a while for each other. I guess we were simply afraid to lose everything we already had if we gave this a try.”
“And what decided you to give this a try, then?”
“I don’t know. Some courage, I guess.”
“Or an opportunity,” Craig proposed, making you frown. There was an insinuation behind his tone, and you didn’t quite know what to do of it.
Andrew seemed to understand better, judging by the way he clenched his jaw, slightly tightened his hold on your hand. He remained quiet though, refusing to rise to Craig’s challenge.
“These things can take time, you know?” you added, trying to pull the conversation away from the glares Andrew and Craig seemed keen to throw each other, a silent battle of thunder and storms. “Where are you planning that trip of yours?”
It was too easy to centre the conversation back onto Samantha, nothing surpriseing, though, considering her character…
Lucky for you, you were soon called by your mother to help in the kitchen.
Or actually, it was but a limited reprieve you were granted. It took your mother only a couple of minutes to bombard you with questions, while she made you cut some carrots, sunlight streaming on your hands from the window set above the sink as you worked. It enlightened the orange stains that slowly grew across your fingers while you dodged your mother’s queries, struggling to remain calm while lying. You thought you would be better at it, but as you peeled the vegetables, their forms made slippery in your hands, you were losing your footing, feeling increasingly guilty as the lies passed your lips again and again.
A first date in a quiet restaurant.
A piece of carrot thrown in the sink.
A first kiss in front of your door, as a tender goodbye, one that lingered in reluctance to part.
A blade slipping too fast.
No, you were not planning ahead for now, just taking things as they went, as they formed.
No, there was no words of love yet, don’t be ridiculous! It’s only the beginning…
“The beginning!” Your mother scoffed, throwing a potato in the sink, alongside your colourful pieces. “The man has been looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars for years! You’ve been stealing glances for so long… I don’t even remember when it started! It’s not the beginning, dear. The two of you have been in love for years. It is only a logical continuation.”
She frowned as she looked at you, finally lifting her gaze from the brown pile of peels.
“You’re okay?”
You were startled by her question.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“I don’t know… you seem… almost sad.”
You couldn’t hold her stare, and you fought every bit of instinct in you to avoid recoiling from her touch as your mother, in a sweet gesture, rested her hand on your shoulder.
“Don’t worry yourself over Craig and Samantha. And before you ask, I wasn’t the one who invited them.”
You nodded, as if you were reassured, as if she was right about the cause of your worry, had aimed straight at the knot of your problems.
She hadn’t. And you were perplexed as you realized this too. Because you had thought that seeing your ex and your cousin together would be unbearable, and it was, indeed, a painful sight. But it was hurting your pride more than your heart, a sting at your ego rather than a tear at your soul.
Instead, the images you summoned in a fake reality with Andrew were the ones destroying you. Because these details, these anecdotes, these stories you made up for your mother were ones you genuinely longed for.
A quiet date in a restaurant you loved. A kiss bathed in streetlights. Hands holding that didn’t want to let go…
This was a terrible idea. A terrible… terrible idea…
“Andrew! Come here, lad! Give us a hand with these, would you?”
You felt his presence by your side before his hand appeared in your vision, reaching for a vegetable, getting to work without any protest or arguing. He would lose anyway, against your mother, and he knew it.
You chatted together for a while, conversation smooth and easy, as always with him around. You almost forgot that all of this was fake when Andrew leaned closer, as if he longed for your nearness. You reached for him before you could think, leaning closer as well, until your arms touched as you worked, the ghost of a touch that was enough to set your heart ablaze…
God… this was such a terrible, terrible idea…
You barely noticed your mother as she moved around the kitchen, until she reached for Andrew.
“I’m so happy for you,” she spoke in a smile. “After all this time… I’m glad the two of you have finally worked out all the things that kept you apart.”
She disappeared before you could speak to her, ask her what she meant. When you turned to Andrew though, he was blinking tears away.
“Andy? You’re alright? What’s wrong?” You asked with sudden worry in your voice, but your friend shook his head.
“Nothing. I’m fine. Just… Erm…”
But he grew quiet, shrugged. You tried to guess, but were pretty sure to miss the mark when he reassured you again.
“Is my mother bothering you?”
“No! Of course, not. It’s weird lying to her, that’s all.”
There was something more to it, but Andrew interrupted you before you could question him further.
“Besides… we have another problem. A more important one. That’s why I was looking for you.”
“What is it?”
“Craig doesn’t believe us.”
“What?”
“He pulled me aside and told me he knew we were faking it. That he was going to tell everyone.”
“The son of a bitch!”
“My thoughts, precisely.”
“What did you answer?”
Andrew shrugged.
“That he was being ridiculous.”
“And?”
“That he was merely being jealous over the fact that he had let a woman like you slip between his fingers like a moron.”
You tried to hide the grin that formed on your lips at his praise.
“Nice… going all in on the ‘make him jealous’ wagon, I see…”
He took a moment to answer, voice less confident than his usual tone when he spoke once more.
“Just the truth…”
You ignored his remark, and you didn’t get why the same tinge of sadness made his hazel eyes greener again, the same way they had earlier that day…
“What can we do to convince him?” you asked, eliciting little more than a shrug from your friend.
You heaved a sigh, your carrots now all cut in the sink. Game over…
“Let’s see how all this unfolds,” was your only solution for now.
“And if he tells your family?”
“We’ll see, Andy. We’ll see.”
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The meal was over. The gifts had been given, the kisses and thankful glances had been exchanged. It was time to settle in with some board games, for those willing, while others nibbled on some pastries and chatted in sofas and armchairs. The last remnants of cakes lingered in porcelain plates while coffee, tea and hot chocolate were being served. You laughed when Andrew picked up your warm beverage before you had a chance.
“Are you drinking my cocoa?”
“I’m trying it out. Just to be sure. In case of poison or something like that.”
You both laughed as he took another sip, humming in delight.
“You could have asked for a hot chocolate instead of tea!” you admonished, but didn’t try to take the cup from him, too happy to see him smiling to even think about it.
God, he could steal the entire beverage, as long as he kept on smiling like that… happy, and soft, and welcoming, calling for a smile of your own to answer his…
“Tastes better when it’s yours,” he laughed, all mischief and cheekiness while he looked at you and drank a third sip, a tiny one, just to get on your nerves.
The charm was broken though when one of the children running around bumped into him and made Andrew spill a little bit of chocolate across his chin. You burst into laughter.
“Well, that was… hot,” you teased while Andrew tried to hide his mouth and chin with his hand, looking around for a napkin of some kind. “Literally, I mean. It must be hot. Graciously so.”
“I hate you,” he glowered without any animosity in his gaze, making you laugh harder as you finally handed him one of the paper towels set on the coffee table.
On the other side of the room, people were playing a board game, but you felt better like this. Just you and Andrew chatting around a cocoa, or what was left of it. No one was truly paying attention to you, or so you had thought… among the five people who were casually chatting in small groups around the coffee table, it was easy to notice that all around the room, if gazes were directed towards your small group, it was to stare at Andrew and you.
Was Andrew aware of that scrutiny? Of the gazes fixed upon you?
“You’re okay?” he asked, frowning slightly, and you wished you could ease the crease between his brow with a brush of your thumb.
“Sure. I’m fine. Just… I think people are kind of watching us,” you added in a whisper no one could eavesdrop, leaning closer to him in the process.
He hummed, slowly nodding.
“Yeah, I think we’re kind of… the new thing.”
You bit your lip before making your next request, and you were surprised to notice that his eyes lingered on your mouth until you spoke.
“Is that okay if we act like…?” you left your question suspended in mid-air.
He nodded again, in silence, and there it was again, the flash of pain turning the hazel into full green…
You noticed the sharp intake of breath he took before finally speaking, the way his eyes narrowed just a little, for a second, while he hesitated… but then the words were out all the same, making his pale cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.
“Can I… tug that strand of hair behind your ear?”
You struggled to swallow and nodded, it was your time to be silent, you couldn’t trust your voice.
He was leaning closer when he lifted his arm towards you, shifting to be facing you, both of you sitting on a sofa that was too comfortable and too familiar for you to feel this tensed, almost frightened.
“You’re sure that’s alright?” Andrew asked again, and this time you let out a faint yes along with your nod.
Frightened wasn’t the right word though. You weren’t scared at all, in fact, you felt absolutely safe with Andrew sitting so close to you, your bodies almost touching, but not quite, just far enough to leave you longing to close these gaps. Slowly, his hand was lifted, all the way up to your face, pushing back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He was staring at you, something that went beyond softness, beyond the usual tenderness his gaze adorned when it fell on you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, guess what it meant. But then again, his thumb was brushing your cheek, and the ghostly touch made you too dizzy, anyway.
He leaned closer, unbearably closer, until his lips were next to your ear, his fingers moving to hold your face in place, palm cradling your jaw.
“Can I… Can I kiss your cheek?”
You were certain that your heart could not take more of this, of his intoxicating cologne, of the warmth of his skin across yours, of the delicate breath fanning across your ear…
You reached up for something, anything to hold onto, and your fingers met his woollen jumper, attached themselves to it as if holding a safe line.
“Yes, you can,” you answered despite your shaking voice and the fact that you had no air left in your lungs whatsoever.
Your rational brain wanted to remind you that this was not real, that it was all for show… but the world had vanished the second he had leaned closer. No… no, before that. When he had stared at you in this gentle way, when his hand had risen towards your face. You couldn’t even remember that you were at your parents’, in fact, you couldn’t remember your own name. Your entire world was being rewritten because this man was holding you close, a palm cradling your jaw while the other found its way to your waist; because he was moving slowly away, only to come back closer than ever, lips resting on your cheek. You closed your eyes the second his lips found your skin, their warmth coursing through your entire frame it seemed, his beard slightly tickling you, just enough to make it all the more endearing. He lingered there for what anyone would consider too long, but when you thought he was about to pull away, his lips merely hovered above your cheek, close enough for you to feel their warmth still, and the hurried breaths he exhaled. And then he was kissing your cheekbone again, and again, and with each resting of his lips upon you, you tightened your hold on his jumper, your free hand coming to rest right against his heart, in the end…
You both jumped at the sharp sound of something falling, glass breaking. As you turned, you noticed that someone had dropped a glass of water to the floor. Nothing too bad, your father was already heading towards the kitchen to clean up the mess that was made. Craig didn’t have a drink.
Before you could analyse the situation in depth, though, Andrew was turning his attention back onto you, and you had no choice but to look at him again too. You remained perfectly still for a moment, hazel eyes meeting your gaze in an unreadable expression, his hands still on you…
And then you both realised how close you were, how easy it would be to just lean a little further and to close the gap between your lips…
And you pulled away in a jolt, startled by your nearness, like two teenagers caught red-handed by an adult.
Andrew cleared his throat, rubbing his palms on his dark jeans, shifting like he didn’t know what to do with his own body all over again.
“I should… help clean the mess…” you mumbled, stuttering slightly, while Andrew was nodding and humming, averting his gaze.
You did just that, hurrying towards the table and picking up pieces of broken glass while your brain remained stuck on the feeling of Andrew’s beard on your skin, the softness of his lips, the way he held you closer…
Your heart was still pounding, your breath catching in your throat every now and then; in fact, every time you thought about his fingers slipping to your hair…
“Let’s throw all these away, darling,” your mother told you, nodding towards the shards in your palm.
You stood straighter without a word, headed for the kitchen…
… to fall face to face with Craig.
Wonderful…
“Sorry about the glass,” he said, breathless for some reason.
“Oh, you’re the one who broke it? Don’t worry about it, my parents have plenty of those. As long as you didn’t cut yourself…”
“I did, actually.”
You took a closer look, and indeed, he was pouring cold water onto a cut across his thumb. Nothing worth worrying about, but it would be quite painful and bothersome for a few days, still. The cut was long and clean, if not too deep.
You had walked closer to inspect the wound, and you didn’t notice the way he stared at you.
“It’s not too bad, but it must hurt.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m just waiting for it to stop bleeding.”
“You should press something on it, then.”
You handed him a napkin, which he rolled around his finger as he thanked you. You finally noticed that you were alone in the kitchen, that everybody else was still in the living room either chatting or cleaning up the mess Craig had made.
“Actually, I… I wanted to talk to you, just us…”
You silently encouraged him to continue, but you were taken aback at the passion and hurt in his eyes when your two gazes locked together.
“I… Is it serious? With Andrew, I mean?”
“Yeah… yes! Of course, it’s serious. Why?”
He shrugged, but you saw the way he clenched his jaw.
“It’s just… you’ve been friends for years… why now?”
You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable now… and you blamed it on a lie, but you knew it was because of the longing that was stuck in your heart, and had been dormant there for too long for you to count.
“I don’t know… the timing was always wrong. He wasn’t single, I wasn’t single, he was touring, I was busy… we kind of… were never on the same page, you know? We… our lives never managed to align.”
Slowly, Craig nodded.
“But this time, your lives are aligning?”
“Yeah! I mean… we’re both single, both staying in Ireland for more than a couple of weeks… we… we both want the same things.”
“And what is that?”
“What’s what?”
“That ‘thing’. Whatever it is that you want, what is it?”
You struggled to swallow, looking for a lie, an answer, anything to say. And a weight fell on your chest as the earnest answer flashed before you, taking the shape of two hazel eyes, unruly curls, soft-spoken words and an infectious laugh…
You thought you wanted some revenge. To make Craig jealous, for him to regret leaving you… but the truth was, you had wanted another man all along. And you still couldn’t have him. It was only a game of pretence.
What a terrible idea, this whole fake-relationship scheme…
Craig took a step closer to you, bringing your bodies so close, as you looked up at him, he was but a breath away.
“What do you want? Why are you with him? Of all people, why Andrew, and why now? Do you want to know what I think about all this?”
You frowned at his tone, crossing your arms before your chest, a glare starting to cover your features.
“Oh, enlighten me!” you replied with challenge in your voice.
But Craig didn’t back down. He only leant closer.
“I think you’re trying to make me jealous. I think you’re not over us. I think that deep down, you still want me. And you turned to your best friend as a rebound. But you’ll be tired of him in a couple of months.”
You shook your head, but your ex still went on.
“Look, I know that what I did was horrible, okay? I… Samantha was a mistake… but we could still have this. You and I, we… we were great together.”
You scoffed, taking a step back, shaking your head some more in amazement. The guy had balls, you had to give him that, at least.
“A mistake you’re about to celebrate your first anniversary with…” you replied, tone acidic and bearing no regrets for it.
“Y/N…”
“No! I don’t know what you’re trying to do right now, but you’re wrong, that’s for sure. I… you cheated on me! With my cousin! How could you possibly imagine that I would want to give you another chance?!”
He heaved a sigh, and you thought he would give in, but he didn’t, on the contrary. This was only the first round.
“So what? You’re bringing Andrew here and playing perfect couple just to get under my skin? To make me pay? To show me what I’ve lost?”
You looked for something to say, but couldn’t deny the plain truth.
“Because I already know what I’ve lost, okay?” Craig went on, tears shining in his eyes. “I know that. I don’t need you to pretend to be in love with someone else to see that.”
You let out a shaky breath. You could have walked away, but it felt good to let the truth out. A day spent telling nothing but lies, it was a relief to reveal the truth, even if it was but a fragment.
“You’re wrong. I love Andrew. In fact… I’ve loved him for years.”
He frowned at that, but you went on, a tear escaping your eyes that you didn’t even notice flowing down your cheek. You had been lying to yourself for a long time, pretending that all this made sense, that it was alright, that you were happy and content as Andrew’s friend. In truth, you were anything but happy, anything but content. And today, pretending to be his, pretending that he was yours… it only showed you more clearly that this was what you wanted. What you had always wanted. What you couldn’t have, perhaps, but what you needed.
It was a confession spoken to Craig, but made for you.
“I’ve been in love with Andrew for years. I’ve had relationships because… I wanted to forget him. Thought I could. Thought it was nothing but an infatuation, then nothing but a crush, and then nothing but a meaningless unrequited love that I would get over quickly. But the truth is, you were the band-aid, Craig. And he’s the one I’ve always wanted. And you know what? You’re right. Coming here with Andy today I… I wanted to come with him because I didn’t want to have to face you and Samantha on my own. Didn’t want to have to bear everybody’s stares and pity thinking I was the poor victim of a tragedy… And I wanted you to see that I was fine without you. That I deserved better than the way you treated me. That I… That I was worth keeping, and loving. But I… at the end of the day, if this afternoon has shown me anything, it’s that I don’t need you. I don’t want you. And I don’t give two fucks about you and Samantha. So… let’s be cordial, as we must, as you’re still part of the family for as long as you’ll be dating my cousin, but… I’m over you, Craig. I’m over all of this. And if there is one thing I want in this world, it’s Andy.”
Before Craig could say anything, before you could even process his reaction, you were storming out of the room. Or at least, you tried to. Because you had taken but a couple of steps towards the door, when Craig held you back, holding onto your wrist.
“Really? Is that how you feel?” he asked, clearly hurt, but also unmistakably angry. “I don’t believe you.”
“What?”
“I don’t believe you. You and Andy? I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. You’re faking it. You’re lying now and for what? To hurt me?”
You didn’t say anything, instead, you merely broke free. Walked out of the kitchen, angry and annoyed and not thinking straight but with a decision taken anyway…
“Andy?”
When you looked around, he wasn’t on the sofa anymore.
“Yes?”
You turned around again. He was right there, by the table, wet napkins in hand, as he had clearly been helping cleaning up the mess your ex had made, standing not too far from the door to the kitchen, your mother by his side while everyone was turning towards you.
He frowned slightly as you hurried towards him, making a bee line to reach him, not caring that everyone was staring at the two of you. Instead, you didn’t think, forgot about the world, focused your attention on Andrew and his unruly curls and the confusion in his hazel eyes, and the way his lips slightly parted as you approached. And then, you took his face in your hands, pulled him down and rose to your tiptoes to meet him halfway, and you kissed him.
You crashed your lips against his, nothing graceful in the gesture, but desperation pouring from every inch of you. You were taken aback though, by the quiet huff he let out, your brain finally kicking in again, and thinking that this was crazy, a terrible idea, and more than anything else, highly inappropriate…
… but Andrew quickly recovered from the initial shock, and before you could pull away and profusely apologise, he had dropped the napkins that hit the floor in a thud, and his arms were wrapping around your frame, pulling you to him. You felt his eyelashes brushing your skin as he closed his eyes, leaning into your kiss, moving his lips over yours to compliment your own movements. And if he was more graceful about it, softer than your rushed gesture, he poured such passion into the kiss that your knees grew weak, and you rested your weight on him, leaning into his chest.
It was over too soon, though, interrupted by the sound of someone – probably one of your parents, or your pain of an uncle – clearing their throat. Andrew was the one pulling away, clearing his throat as well as he took a step back, although one of his hands remained at your waist.
He was blushing when you opened your eyes. And you suddenly wanted to leave. To just go and disappear and pretend like you had not broken the best friendship you had ever had and that the man you loved would not hate you from now on for kissing him like that and that you had not humiliated yourself in front of your entire family…
But as you were about to speak, Craig was hissing from somewhere behind Andrew, making him turn around. Before his attention was pulled away from you, you noted the way Andrew was looking at you. Intensely, a little stunned too, like he wasn’t sure that it had happened, that you had truly kissed him, and yet, like he was searching for answers in your eyes…
But then he turned to face Craig. He had barely turned towards him, though, that your ex was grabbing Andrew by the collar, and pushing him against the nearest wall, Andrew’s hand leaving its resting spot on your hip in the process.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Craig shouted, the whole room too stunned to react while Andrew’s back collided with the wall, a hollow sound ensuing and making a couple of framed pictures shake with the strength of the impact.
“Get off me!” Andrew merely replied through his teeth, struggling to break free, but fighting had never been his strong suit…
“You fucking BASTARD!”
“Craig!”
The first people were finally reacting, hurrying to pull your ex away, but he kept them at bay, trying to keep on pushing Andrew against the wall.
“You were just waiting for your turn, you son of bitch! Dickhead! You were just waiting to get a chance to fuck that bitch!”
Andrew’s expression hardened, and this time, when he reached for Craig, it wasn’t to pull at his hands, but to grab the collar of your ex’s shirt and violently pull as well.
“Don’t you fucking dare insult her like that!” he growled, with such anger and threat, a tone you had never heard on his voice before.
“Both of you, stop!” your father ordered.
“Stop this! What are you doing?” you added, tugging at both their arms, but none of them seemed to care.
Instead, Craig went on, pushing on all of Andrew’s buttons…
“I can’t believe she did run straight into your bed like a whore…”
Before anyone could react, Andrew was pushing Craig away with so much force that he stumbled backwards and fell down.
For a second time, the whole room was too stunned to react, while Craig staggered back to his feet. Andrew moved away from the wall, and as your ex stood straighter again he was glaring at him, jaw tightly clenched. You had never seen so much wrath on his features before.
But it wasn’t over. Craig threw Andrew only one look before he was bending over and running to him, tackling him and making him fall back easily. You gasped at the loud sound of Andy’s head hitting the tiles.
Too stunned to move, Andrew didn’t even try to avoid Craig’s punch, and he got hit straight across the jaw. Thankfully, hands were then pulling Craig off of Andrew. You didn’t care though. You didn’t pay attention to your father and one of your aunts pushing Craig into the kitchen while shouting at him. You didn’t notice your cousin hurrying to join him, clearly worried. All you could do was to fall on your knees by Andrew’s side, holding onto his shoulders and gently shaking him while he blinked, clearly disoriented.
“Andy! Andy, you’re okay? Can you hear me?” you asked in a rush.
His unfocused gaze finally found you, and he blinked some more. You thought he was about to faint.
“Andy! Stay with me! Are you alright?”
Your hands moved from his shoulders to his cheeks. He took hold on your right wrist, touch firm and yet gentle still.
“Y/N…”
“You’re okay? Andy?”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re sure? How’s your head? Do you feel dizzy?”
“A little bit. I’m okay though.”
“Really?”
Slowly, he nodded. Your mother appeared by your side, asked Andrew how he felt as well. His answer was to slowly sit up. He looked exhausted, all of a sudden, paler than usual, but there was no cut across the back of his head, merely the beginning of a bump.
“I’m fine,” he repeated.
You helped him to his feet, your mother checking that he was unharmed too.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, but your mother was quick to dismiss it all with a wave of her hand.
“It’s not your fault, dear. Let’s seat you down on the sofa for a moment.”
“No, I’m… I’m fine.”
Samantha walked out of the kitchen, crying, and you wondered why. Or actually, you didn’t. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to stay for a minute longer in the same room as either her or Craig.
“Actually, I think we should go,” you interjected, and Andrew nodded.
“No, please… Craig is going to be kicked out, don’t worry about him,” your mother argued.
“No, really, I… I want to go home. Please, I want to go home.”
You were on the verge of tears, and so you turned towards the hallway, followed by your mother’s protests, along with some of your other relatives’ kind words. But you wanted to run now, disappear and leave all of them behind. You were tired of being looked at… you needed to be on your own for a while.
Meanwhile, Andrew was remaining silent. He only spoke to apologise once again to your family, clearly ashamed. You left before Craig could be let out of the kitchen, and were close to running to your car.
You climbed in, Andrew following suit in the passenger seat. You drove on, heading for home. You should have taken Andrew to his house, but you didn’t even think about it. The thought never came. You simply headed home, and Andrew didn’t protest, even though he obviously recognized the road you were taking.
Only when you arrived before your building did you realise that Andrew was still here, the ride had been filled with nothing but silence.
“You should come in, I’ll take a look at your jaw.”
Indeed, a bruise was forming under his beard, colouring the sharp angle of his face with yellowish hues.
“It’s nothing. Nothing broken.”
“Please, come in. Please…”
You stared at each other for a moment, but he yielded, nodding, at long last. You waited for him to climb out of your small car, and he held on the door before closing it, wincing as he unfolded his tall frame.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, just… a little dizzy, that’s all.”
“You need to go to the hospital?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it was just a punch.”
“And a hit on the head.”
“Thick skull. Don’t you know that already?”
You both chuckled, while Andrew followed you inside your home.
You rid yourself of your shoes and coat, aiming straight for the freezer to get a bag of frozen vegetables there. Andrew was by your side, leaning against the kitchen counter. He didn’t protest when you gently rested the cold bag against his jaw, merely winced at the sharp sensation.
“Thanks,” he breathed, staring right into your eyes.
But you didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, your world got blurred by tears.
“You… are you angry?”
But Andrew shook his head.
“No. No, I’m not angry.”
“You should be.”
“Probably.”
“You… you had to lie all day long because of me, and then I kissed you without your permission and you probably hated that, and then you punched Craig, and you got punched in the face… all because of me. I’m a lousy friend.”
“The worst,” he corrected you, but there was a tender smile on his lips.
“You should be angry.”
“I’m not.”
“You should hate me.”
“I don’t. And I…”
A pause. He seemed out of breath for a second, wetted his lips, before he went on.
“I liked it, by the way.”
“What?”
“Your kiss. I… I didn’t hate it. I liked it. A lot.”
Your eyes merely grew round, and Andrew looked away, averting his eyes. He heaved a painful sigh.
“I told you this would be a terrible idea,” he pointed out.
“I know.”
“And you didn’t listen.”
“I know.”
“And now… what are we going to do now?”
You had no answer to give, you were plagued by this same question yourself.
A moment of silence, suspended in mid-air. Outside, the quiet of cars passing by and the wind flowing through branches and pushing clouds around. Inside, the cold of the bag making your fingers ache, a welcomed burn to distract your busy mind, while Andrew was taking a sharp inhale.
“I heard you, you know?”
His voice was quiet, low and deeper than usual. He blinked, focusing on you again, trapping you into these hazel orbs you adored.
“When you talked to Craig, in the kitchen. I heard you. I was right behind the door.”
“That’s creepy,” you tried to deflect the impact of that revelation with humour, speaking the silliest thing you could have uttered. It still made Andrew break, laughing despite his best effort not to.
“I was sent to put the napkins away. But then… I heard you. Didn’t interrupt. Wanted to know what you would say.”
He narrowed his eyes a little, the ghost of a frown forming a crease across his brow.
“Did you mean any of that? Or was that just… one more lie?”
The bag of vegetables slipped from the hold of your numb fingers and fell, but Andrew stopped you as you reached for it, holding your face in his hands to force you to look at him.
“Did you mean what you said? About me? About us?”
“What does it matter?”
He knitted his brows, tightening his hold on you. You noticed the way his breathing stuttered, grew shallower.
“What does it matter?” he repeated. “Are you serious?”
“You don’t feel that for me. So… what does it matter?”
He let out a shaky breath, almost a sigh.
“Why did you kiss me like that, though?” you asked, tears shining in your eyes but you were determined not to let them fall. Your tone was almost bitter as you questioned him. “On the couch. You kissed my cheek… God, that was so much more than what it should have been…”
He blinked, trying to read behind your words for their true meaning. He didn’t find it, reached in the dark and his hand closed on nothing.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”
“Why did you kiss me like that? That was so out of line…”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”
“Why did you do that?”
Slowly, he shook his head. He looked almost stunned by your question.
“You really don’t know?”
He leaned back against the counter, and pulled you with him, until your faces were so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your lips.
“You really don’t know?” he asked again.
“I don’t know…”
“Did you mean it? When you said… when you said that you wanted me. Did you mean it?”
“I said a bit more than that…”
“I’m not foolish enough to hope for the rest to be true as well, I’ll settle for a ‘I vaguely like you’.”
It was your turn to chuckle even if you didn’t want to.
“If I answer earnestly, you’re going to hate me for wanting more and breaking our friendship.”
He shook his head, leaning closer, until his forehead rested upon yours. At long last, you reached up, holding on his forearms for support, and to make sure he wouldn’t go away…
You heard him wincing as he spoke, heard it in the way his voice was shaking. You had closed your eyes, and so had he.
“Let’s be honest with each other. Please… I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of denying the way I feel for you, or what I want when it comes to you, I’m tired… I’m tired of letting you slip away. So, please. Please be honest with me. I can’t keep on holding onto some mad hope. I can’t keep on pretending that I don’t… That I…”
He struggled to breathe for a moment, you tightened your hold on his arms but remained there, eyes closed, leaning against him.
“I kissed you like that because… because I wanted to. Because I let myself slip into yielding. Because I couldn’t help it. Because… because it hurt so fucking much to hold you like this, to be close to you in this way, to act the way I have longed for for years under some pretence, under a mask, as a lie… when it wasn’t a lie. When I… I wish it wasn’t a lie. I wish it could be for real.”
He sighed, long and painful and full of hurt, and you reached up to kiss him before he could say anything else.
If your first kiss at your parents’ house had been passionate and quite messy because of it, this one was slow, taking its time to learn each other’s taste and lips and mouth. You had no idea for how long you kissed, all you knew was that, while it lasted, there was nothing else in the world but Andrew kissing you; and that when it ended, you longed for it to start again.
“I meant it,” you whispered, bearing your soul in a confession that was so raw you couldn’t summon anything but a murmur, eyes still closed and lips barely parted from his. “What I told Craig, I meant it. I mean it. I want you… And this whole day has been torture for me too.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t either…”
“I almost said it a thousand times. Never had the courage.”
“Please… have it now, and kiss me again.”
He obliged, without protest or hesitation. You were lost in his embrace all over again, and rested your head against his chest when you eventually pulled away.
“So… what now?” you asked, voice muffled by his cardigan.
“We could go on a date.”
“I want to be wined and dined, just so you know,” you joked, making him chuckle.
“Duly noted. Anything else, for her ladyship?”
“I don’t know… I’m… I’m so fucking scared, to be honest.”
“Because everything is going to change?”
“Because it might not work out. Because… you might leave me, and I might give up and a thousand things can go wrong, and…”
But he softly shushed you, running his hand through your hair.
"Look, I… I’m not going to pretend that I’m not scared to bits by this. I feel like we have so much to lose. But I… I want you so badly. I want you so much, I’m ready to take the risk. We can take things slow, we don’t have to rush through this. I just… I feel like I'm truly myself when I'm with you. I want to be myself when I'm with you. So now, if you're scared, don't call it love yet. But whatever you want to call it, it's incredible, and I'm not going to give up on this. I'm not going to give up on us. I can promise you that, at least. That I’m ready to fight for this, for you.”
He was surprised by your chuckle.
“You’ve fought already. If you can call it a fight…”
“Yeah, exactly. I mean… he was about to seriously kick my arse but I did have a few seconds of manly glory there.”
You both laughed at that, the tension receding as a result.
“Perhaps, at the end of the day, that plan of mine wasn’t so bad,” you joked, making Andrew laugh harder, shaking his head.
“It was definitely a terrible idea. The worst idea you’ve ever had. Look at all the trouble it has caused!”
“Are you calling me trouble?”
“Of the worst kind.”
You were happy about this kind of trouble though, as Andrew was leaning down to kiss you once more, holding you close, unwilling to ever let go.
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 8 months
Text
The Danger Zone (Part 18) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 3.9k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You try to adapt to life without Jake beside you anymore.
Series Master List
Master List
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Dear Jake,
You probably haven’t even reached the aircraft carrier yet. You might even still be on the ground in Miramar. But I couldn’t wait. I miss you. You’ve been gone for less than five hours, and I already miss you so much. I'm not saying that to try and make you feel bad, but because it's the only thing on my mind now.
Everyone offered to take me out today to try and distract me, but I declined. I think that I just want some time to myself. I honestly don't even want to get out of bed. Maybe I’ll do some cleaning. Or who knows? Maybe I’m an accomplished knitter who hasn’t discovered her talent yet. Or maybe I’ll bake again. I don’t know. 
Also, all of the tee shirts you left behind are now mine. Sorry, it’s just wife rules. You shouldn’t have married me and knocked me up if you didn’t want me to steal your stuff. 
I miss you. I love you. And so does our little girl. Come home safe, Lieutenant Commander. That’s an order. 
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~
Dear Jake,
I went back to work today. Everyone tried to talk to me about you and the wedding and everything, but I just wanted to be left alone. Also, my cravings are all over the place now. And half of the stuff seems to make me throw up these days. Luckily, I still have the gum and toothbrush in my desk. 
How’s everything? I assumed that you made it to the carrier by now. Or maybe you’re somewhere else entirely.
You know all of those spy movies over romanticize how sexy it is to be waiting at home for your husband to return home from some top secret mission.
It’s not sexy. It’s just annoying. 
Here’s a photo of me and my bump. Don’t mind the mess in the background, I’m rearranging the whole apartment. Call it nervous organizing. It'll be cleaned up. Eventually.
She’s been a shy ever since you left. I can still feel her moving around, but even she seems to have realized that you're gone. I think that she just misses you. And I can’t blame her because I miss you too. 
I love you, Jake. Come home safely.
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~
Dear Jake, 
I got the package that you bought for me. I hope that you know that if you were here, I would have given you a rerun of that time that we went to that desert concert. The one where you wouldn't remove your hands from my waist for a second. I hope that your big promotion doesn’t change how much you enjoyed it when I tied your hands up back in your truck. 
Our daughter’s been moving around like crazy today ever since I played your voice for her. She doesn’t seem to be willing to kick yet, but we’ll get there in time. 
I let Emma take me out today. We just took a walk around her neighborhood. Baby girl finally went to bed after that. But knowing her, she’ll wake up just in time for me to go to bed. 
Here’s our photo from today. Emma took it. I can’t believe I’m going to get even bigger. You owe me a deep tissue massage on my back when you get home. And I’ll hold you to it. 
We love you and miss you, Jake. 
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~
Dear Jake,
I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved in with Mav today. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I was wrong. Being alone with my thoughts just makes me sad and lonely and I don’t want our daughter to bake in that. She needs to inherit your smile and dimples, so I’m making a bigger effort to be happy. 
Penny took me to get my nails done today. I got a light pink for our daughter, but now everyone’s assuming that we’re having a girl. I haven’t confirmed it because we didn’t discuss it before you left but don’t be shocked when you come home to a lot of pink. 
I also started seriously researching some girl names. I never realized how many people I don’t like until I started trying to name our daughter. And you better speak up if any of the ones that I suggest are ones that have bad meanings to you.
I’m still digging through a whole bunch of lists but there’s such weird ones out there, Jake. And we cannot name our child something that would get us a look from her teachers. Or a stripper name.
I love you. Baby girl is behaving herself, but she misses you.
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~
To My Beautiful Wife,
I finally got a chance to check my email. We’re settled on the carrier now, but we’ve been doing a lot of drills and long briefings. I'm sorry that I haven't written earlier. Know that the two of you are always on my mind.
I’m glad you got your gift. I tried to record what I could think of for our baby girl. I don’t want her to miss anything. And I don’t want her keeping you up at night. Has she kicked yet? By my count, you’re hitting seven months in a day or two.
Thanks for sending me those photos. I put up one of the two of you from that photo shoot in my plane. Really brightens up the place. But it also reminds me of what I’m missing. Sometimes I have to take it down so I can focus.
I miss you. I miss our little girl. Every day, every hour, every second. 
Try to relax. I know that everyone’s probably told you that a thousand times by now, but I don’t want you feeling stressed about me. I’m fine and I'll be home as soon as I can. Please tell me that you didn’t lift anything heavy while you were moving into Mav’s house. Or maybe it's better if you don't tell me.
And you can tell everyone about her. I don’t mind. It’s not like we could keep it a secret for much longer anyways. But make sure to mention that I was right. 
And you have to tell me the worst names that you've seen on these lists. I left a list of baby names I liked in my nightstand. I'd research them when I couldn't sleep at night.
I love you and I love our daughter. I’ll try to be home soon.
Your Husband,
Jake
~~~~~
Dear Jake,
I had my seven month appointment today. Baby girl is healthy and still measuring a little small. But her heartbeat is strong and I can tell that she’s going to be stubborn coming out. The doctor says that it’s only a matter of time before she starts kicking. 
I hope that the ocean isn’t too rough and you can see the stars. I remember when Mav and I spent a month in Hawaii when I was a teenager. We saw the most beautiful stars there. What if we picked a star name for our daughter? Not Stella, though. That was our dog's name growing up and I can't name my daughter after a dog.
I didn’t lift anything. Mav wouldn’t let me. And neither would Bradley. They’re watching me like hawks these days. And no, I didn’t mean that as a bird joke. Also, I can’t name our daughter after a bird. I’m trying to end the family streak of joke names. 
Mckeighleigh was the most ridiculous looking name I’ve seen so far. And we’re not naming our daughter Precious either. Or worse, Chastity. I don’t know how those nurses keep a straight face when they hear those names. 
And your recording telling her to go to bed has come in handy lately. Though I did warn her that we’ll be discussing the fact that she only seems to listen to you about that when she comes out. 
I love you so much Jake. You’ll be home soon, I know it. And we’ll be waiting for you when you do. 
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~
Dear Jake,
I can't fall asleep, so I’m writing to you instead. And no, it wasn’t our baby girl who kept me up. I’ve had the worst heartburn these days. And Tums don’t do shit. They say that means that our daughter will come out with a full head of hair. I say that I'd take a bald baby in exchange for better sleep.
My baby shower is in a few days. Next weekend. Emma and Phoenix said that it was going to be relatively small, and I hope that they stick to it. I’m not really in the mood to see a lot of people anymore.
I yelled at Bradley the other day for making an omelet with three eggs because he left an egg in the carton without a 'friend' because he left an egg alone in its row since there was an odd number of eggs. Apparently, I kept crying about it for a while, but in all honesty, I don’t really remember much of that conversation. I’m pretty sure that Bradley’s keeping his distance now. You probably would have enjoyed seeing his face. 
I asked for a little box at my baby shower to put name suggestions in. I’m running out of ideas. I keep worrying that we’re going to name her something stupid. 
Baby girl is growing bigger, and I can’t believe that I’m still going to get fatter. I’m struggling to grab things off of the floor now. Maverick got me one of those grabby things that old people use. You would probably find it hilarious.
I love you. I miss you. I’ll write to you tomorrow. 
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~
“Thank you,” you told Emma as she handed you a lemonade. 
Emma and Penny took you out for the day to spend some time out of Mav’s house. You were growing increasingly less interested in leaving your 'nest,' as Bradley nicknamed it, and they were trying their best to get you motivated to go out and continue to live your life.
You had done some shopping for a dress to wear to your baby shower and now the three of you were getting a snack before you’d head over to the Hard Deck for the rest of the afternoon. You chatted for a moment before you sighed, slowly got to your feet, and grabbed your purse from your chair. 
“Bathroom?” Emma asked you.
“Where else?” you joked, walking off. 
A few minutes later, as you were washing your hands at the sink, you looked up when another woman stepped inside the bathroom. You offered her a friendly smile before her familiarity suddenly struck you. Quickly drying your hands, you reached for your bag and turned to leave. But the woman stood directly in your path.
She had stripes of gray cutting through what appeared to be deep auburn hair. She carried herself with a sense of purpose. And an expensive handbag. She reminded you of some of the women you used to see at the country club that you worked at in college. The type who turned a blind eye when their pig husbands made some demeaning comment to the women on staff and were never seen without some kind of drink in their perfectly manicured hands.  
“You know who I am?” Georgia Seresin asked softly.
You stared her down, gripping the strap of you bag tightly. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you could practically feel the rhythm in your ears. Taking a breath and releasing it, you tilted your chin up and narrowed your eyes at her.
“What are you doing here?” you demanded quietly, looking around the small public bathroom. No one else was in there except for the two of you. “Are you stalking me?”
“I came to California when my son didn’t respond to my letter.”
“I wonder why?” you wondered sarcastically.
“What did he tell you?”  
“Everything,” you stated firmly. “Which is why I would appreciate it if you stopped acting like it was just a coincidence that you ran into me here, hundreds of miles from your home, when Jake is conveniently deployed.” You paused for a moment before repeating through gritted teeth, “Why are you here?”
“To talk to you. About my son.”
“What about your son?”
“I know that your child isn’t here yet, but when they’re born, perhaps you can understand how much pain it could cause a mother to miss out on their child’s wedding or the process of them expecting their first child. From a mother to a mother—”
“—I’m going to stop you right there.”
You tried to keep your tears of anger in as you thought about Jake’s expression when he told you about his childhood. When you thought about the pain that you could hear in his tone, that you could feel radiating off of him.
“Because a woman who calls herself a mother would never do the things that you did. You stole him from a poor girl who loved him. You lied to her, promising that you would take care of him and love him. And then you turned around and fed him to the wolves." Nostrils flaring and angry tears threatening to fall, you added, "Did you ever even tell him that you loved him?"
“Of course, we did,” she admonished.
“Did you? Did you tell him that you were proud of him? That you loved him no matter what happened?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice even. “Every night my mom told me that she loved me and that she was proud of me. How many times did you tell Jake that, Georgia? How is a child supposed to just know that if you don’t tell them?” Shaking your head as you let out a shaky breath, you turned back to her. “And just so you know, there won’t be a day where Jake doesn’t tell our child that he loves them. Not one.”
Georgia adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and pursed her lips together. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner, but you didn’t give a shit about her feelings. 
“Did you come here to convince me to talk Jake into speaking to you again? To buy my baby from me? A combination of the two? Does your husband know that you’re here? Is he waiting outside?”
Georgia took another moment to compose herself from your questions. She glanced down at the rings on your finger before meeting your gaze again.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Jake selected a woman as . . . outspoken as you,” Georgia stated, adjusting her handbag again. “No, my husband does not know that I’m here. And I’m not here to buy my grandchild. I’m here to try and get through to my son and I’ve realized that the best way to do that would be through you. The woman he married and is having a child of his own with.”
Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Georgia's words.
“I have no interest in having a relationship with you because Jake doesn’t have an interest in it.”
“There’s nothing I can do to persuade you to speak with him about me?” Georgia pressed, an edge of desperation in her tone. 
“No, there’s not.”
“You would deny your child a set of grandparents?”
“I will protect my child from people who hurt their father.”
Forcing yourself to take a breath, you stared down Georgia for a moment. She looked far more pathetic than you knew she was comfortable with. Apparently, she thought that she would just waltz in, and you would agree with her without any pushback.
But she couldn't have been more wrong.
“You know, when Jake told me about his upbringing, I honestly felt a bit of sympathy for you, Georgia. Maybe you were convinced that being a rich housewife to a pathetic little man was a better life than being loved by a poor man. And I’m sure that your husband hasn’t been kind to you over the years.” 
The rage flashed to the surface again as she turned away from you for a moment. 
“But how could you look another woman in the eye and convince her to hand over an innocent baby to a man that you knew would be a horrible father? That you knew would hurt that baby?”
After a moment, you walked past Georgia, who did not move to block your path this time. You opened the door and strode out of there and you didn't dare look back. Trying to gather yourself, you looked up to see Emma and Penny a few steps away from you. 
“Are you okay? We were getting worried," Emma questioned with clear concern.
“Fine. Let’s get going to the Hard Deck,” you stated, already turning towards the parking lot. 
“What happened?” Penny asked, studying your expression. You didn’t reply and just kept marching towards the parking lot until Penny rested a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to slow down. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
“Jake’s mom walked into the bathroom,” you explained quietly, looking over your shoulder. 
“What?"
“She knew where you were?” Penny asked urgently, looking around with a protective stare. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, she encouraged you forward again. “Come on, let’s get going.”
~~~~~
Maverick’s face darkened after you finished with your explanation about what happened at the mall. Grabbing his phone, he got up from the table with a serious expression.
“I’m going to make a call,” he stated firmly. “They can’t stalk you and your child. I don’t care who the hell that they think they are in Texas. That’s not going to fly out here. That’s not going to continue.”
“Who are you calling?” you asked as Maverick walked off. 
“An old contact. I’ll be right back.”
Penny told you to just let Mav make the call as the remaining four of you remained seated at the table. You twisted your engagement ring around your finger nervously, sharing a look with Emma and Bradley, who sat across from you. 
“She didn’t try to hurt me—”
“—Doesn’t matter,” Bradley interjected quickly. “It’s creepy and it’s over the line and it’s going to stop. Now. Just let Mav make his call. He'll handle it.”
“I know,” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. “Jake is going to freak out when I tell him.”
“You’re going to tell him right away?”
“I can’t hide it from him. It might take me some time to find the words, but I have to tell him.”
Penny hugged you to her side and rubbed your back with her hand, giving you the maternal support that you really needed in that moment. You sighed and leaned against her, desperately wishing that Jake would be home soon.
“Everything will be alright. We’re going to figure this out.”
~~~~~
Dear Jake,
I hope that everything is running smoothly where you are. And that you read this email sooner rather than later. 
Penny and Emma took me to the shops yesterday and when I was trying to leave the bathroom, I ran into your mother. She came up from Texas and she told me that she wanted to talk to me about you. Said something about using me to convince you to talk to her again. I told her that I wasn’t interested in that because you weren’t interested in that. She let me leave after that. 
I don’t want to stress you out or make you feel like you have to do anything when you’re so far away, but I wanted to be honest with you. Mav’s made a few calls and he seems to think that he has a solution. Don’t stress about us, just focus on your mission and coming home safely in one piece. 
We love you, Jake. And we’re safe, we’re fine. And we miss you. 
Love,
Your Wife
~~~~~ 
Folding some fresh laundry in Maverick's house a few days later, you looked up when you heard your phone buzz. An unknown number was calling you and despite your hesitation, you answered it. 
“Hello?”
“Hi, Honey.”
“Jake?” you whispered out shakily, holding a hand to your mouth. Moving to sit, you tried to calm yourself down and not just simply sob. “How are you calling me?”
“I have my ways,” Jake replied teasingly. Growing more serious, he asked, “Are you alright?”
“We’re fine, Jake.” 
“I’m so sorry, Honey. She never should have been anywhere near the two of you.”
“We’re fine,” you repeated softly. “She didn’t threaten us. If anyone was threatening anyone, it was me.”
“That’s my wife,” Jake praised, causing you to smile bashfully. “But my father wasn’t there, right? It was just my mother?”
“Yeah. She said that he didn’t know that she was there, and I didn’t see him around.”
“Good. I’ll deal with them when I get home.”
“Okay.” After a moment you asked, “How much longer do you have?”
“Less than a minute. I’m sorry, Honey, I just needed to know that the two of you were okay. They thought that I was having some kind of stroke when I read your email and I managed to convince them to let me call you.”
“At least one good thing came out of the whole shitshow,” you sighed, resting a hand on your bump. “I love—”
You froze when you felt your daughter press her foot against your hand. Jake felt his heart leap into his throat when you cut yourself off and stop talking without a clear reason.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“She’s kicking,” you whispered softly.
“What?”
“Jake, she’s kicking. Our daughter is kicking!”
“She’s kicking?”
“Yes, she’s kicking,” you laughed, before your joy dimmed and tears pooled in your eyelids. Sniffling, you croaked out, “I love you so much, Jake. We love you so much.”
“I love you too. And I miss you so fucking much, Honey. And I’m so sorry that I’m not there.”
“Hangman, time’s up,” Jake heard from behind him, causing him to look over his shoulder. 
“I’ve got to go, Honey,” he replied, grinding his jaw to try and stave off the tears. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Bye, Jake.”
The line went dead, and you slowly placed your phone down. Holding your hand to your mouth, you finally let out your sobs. And about a thousand emotions that you'd tried keeping in ever since Jake was forced to leave you. 
Your daughter was finally kicking, but her father wasn’t here to feel her. And the thought only made you sob harder. 
Back on the carrier, Jake rubbed the tears that leaked from his eyes. 
He missed it. He fucking missed it. He missed his daughter kicking for the first time. He wasn’t there when his mother showed up out of nowhere and accosted you in a public bathroom. He wasn’t going to be there for your baby shower.
Jake had anticipated that deploying while you were heavily pregnant was going to be difficult. But he didn’t realize that it was going to be impossible, killing him slowly from the inside out. 
“Hangman?”
“I’m coming,” Jake called back, clearing his throat. “I’m coming.”
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