#so i like to think that the importance of their first meeting/the reversal at their last meeting/their status as peers

[daisyachain]

really and truly the tiers of mob saiko understanders are That One Blog That Translated Ch 100 As It Came Out > the privileged few who like teru/mob > people who hate teru/mob > most people who like teru/mob > people who call reigen gendered slurs

[lesbiancientforesttroll]

Think about Harrow's AU Bubbles

Thinking about Harrow's AU bubbles, not as fanfic references, but as expressions of her subconscious fears and desires, is so fascinating.

The Harrow Nova one is pretty obvious. Harrow's parents were obsessed with her being a necromancer, were willing to kill for it. It's only natural she'd wonder, "What if I hadn't been?"

And the answer Harrow gives herself is: Your parents and everyone would reject you (except, wildly, for Crux). Also they'd be alive cuz you'd never opened the tomb, and you'd be an unpopular orphan they'd abuse (Just Like Gideon). And you'd still be just as devoted to serving the Ninth with a blade. There's a lot there. But the other really telling bit is her relationship with Gideon. Harrow Nova professes to hate the reverend daughter even as she seeks to (re) create the necro-cav bond with her. But that hatred doesn't seem to be mutual. And the bit about the daughter intervening when Harrow was whipped…

That's Harrow's subconscious saying if their roles had been reversed, "Gideon would have treated me better than I treated her. Gideon would have protected me."

The Ball AU also seems like a reasonable extension of Gideon's childhood query: "What if my other parent is the most important guy in the universe?" Answer: Emperor Dad would throw a big party.

But also… it's a bride-finding ball! That's so very telling. It could have been anything, but Harrow invents another scenario where she's fighting, competing to get to Gideon, to be awarded the role of her sworn partner (first cav, now bride), while outwardly claiming not to want it.

Now The BARI Star AU often gets described as a "coffee shop" one, but it's actually set in a cohort cafeteria. And normally I wouldn't split hairs over that, but I think the cohort setting is actually really significant. The Cohort was Gideon's dream, and also Harrow's rival for Gideon's attention. It's what she kept trying to leave Harrow for.

So now Harrow dreams that she's left Drearburh to join the cohort and will meet Gideon there. Not fight or compete for a role where they're bound to each other, but just meet her there. That feels like yielding. Like compromise. It makes me think Harrow's subconscious has matured past trying to keep Gideon with her always and is instead looking for ways that SHE can be with Gideon. Meet Gideon where she is.

(Also this may be a stretch, but I always find it low-key funny that Harrow imagines Gideon in the cafeteria… I like to think her brain is skimming lists of hypothetical military jobs like... what sees the least action... ah, coffee-adept, she'll be perfectly safe there...)

[cozycottagetarot]

Your Future In-Laws First Impression of You

Pile 1 🪸 Pile 2 🛩️ Pile 3 ☔️

Notes:

This reading covers Your future in-laws (married or long-term partner) first impression of you as well as how they receive you. It's purely for entertainment purposes only. Take what only what resonates be it some, all or none.

I've been feeling mildly scatterbrained when it comes to organising my thoughts and I didn't have the mental capacity to design any graphics. Hopefully, this reading is still clear though.

Elle 🍃

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

Photos From Unsplash: Pile 1 image source | Pile 2 image source | Pile 3 image source

PILE 1

What do they think of you?

Cards: Cat’s Claw (Purification), Lion’s Mane (Leadership), Lavender (Weaver), Ace of Swords, King of Cups, Four of Swords

Your in-laws first impression of you is one of being impressed and intrigued. From the cards pulled (including the next section) it feels like your future in-laws will be a very tight-knit family, so your future long-term partner/spouse introducing you is very much a big deal. I feel like it could be at a family gathering or you’re invited to an important event where you meet them there. You could give off the impression of being very regal and revered. I think your future in-laws will be very satisfied with you and see you as exactly what they want for their child/relative. They could also be cautious of you in the sense that you may give off the energy of calm but not to be messed with. They could view you as someone who is very balanced energetically. You could give off an enticing blend of masculine and feminine qualities.

You could also give off the impression of someone whose intelligence comes from observing a situation first. The only card that didn’t quite 'blend' as seamlessly initially for me here is the Four of Swords. You could give off a very unfazed vibe at times… or seem as though you’re uninterested in what’s going on all while simultaneously being on high alert. It could come from past experiences though that leaves you this way and I think your in-laws will be able to pick up on that as well. For others, you could just have this attractive, leadership energy and your in-laws' first impression of you could be “This person is great, but they sound like they need to rest.”

How will they receive you? Cards: Tobacco (Offering) , Arnica (Teacher), Saint John’s Wort (Radiance), Death, Six of Pentacles, The Hermit reversed

Your future in-laws will receive you with open arms. Right off the bat they’re going to take you in and share with you their wisdom and their love. Even if you and your in-laws may have differences, they’ll show you from the start that they are willing to get to know who you are and build a relationship with you. For them, your presence welcomes the start of a new beginning in their family. I feel like your in-laws may be very traditional but also open. They will want to help nurture you. For some of you, they may give a physical gift for you or offer you an opportunity of some kind.

PILE 2

What do they think of you? Cards: Rosemary (ancient memory), Gingko (breakthrough), Psilocybin (commune), Knight of Cups, Two of Swords, The Emperor, Knight of Wands

If you were drawn to pile 1, you could consider checking out that pile as well after.

I don’t know if you’re sleepy or what pile 2, but something to do with sleep is coming through for you. I figured maybe some of you may meet your in-laws at night, for others you may have an intense intellectual energy and it’s like “Wow, does this person ever sleep?” Your in-laws may see you as someone charming, playful or good fun, but overall super focused and fixated on a specific thing. For some of you, you may not have the best social skills? You might say things that catch them off guard, but I don’t think they’ll think less of you for it. Your person could have a big family, so there may be many in-laws you meet. They definitely see you as committed to what you set your mind to and that when you make a decision about something, it’s not one you make lightly. You give your all to projects and people. They may see you as a visionary, someone with lots of wisdom and brilliant ideas. I think that you might even influence them, if not completely change their perspective on a matter. If there are children around you may interact with them well, almost like a mentor and I think your future in-laws will be pleased with that. You may not directly interact with them when they form their first impression of you, they may simply observe you from a distance. For others, it could be that you flit back and forth between intellectual intensity that makes you seem older than you are one minute and embodying a child-like sense of wonder and whimsiness that makes you see younger the next.

How will they receive you? Cards: Rose (love), Cannabis (detachment), Tulsi (wealth), 10 of Cups, Page of Swords, 6 of Wands

*If you’re struggling with anxiety or sleep, there’s a message here to take time and care around cultivating inner calm. Quick fixes might do more harm than good currently.

There’s not one uniform energy here, like I mentioned before, it feels like various people I’m picking up on (so forgive me if this feels slightly scattered). For some, they might seem a little bit detached or unexpressive but they like you. It could be that they quite honestly didn’t want to like you but they do, or the initial getting to know one another might be rocky before you finally get to a point where it's like "yeah, y/n is pretty great.". Regardless, you’ll feel welcomed and you’ll be received with grace. I’m also picking up on some may want to get on your good side because they see you as someone successful or capable of great success so they may try to wow you. They may want to learn from you as well. I definitely pick up on someone seeking you out in hopes that you’ll teach them about something. They may welcome you by striking up a conversation.

PILE 3

What do they think of you? Cards: Palo Santo (Guardian), Jergón Sacha (Transfiguration), Chamomile (Inner Peace) reversed Four of Wands reversed, Ace of Swords, Two of Wands

It's not quite clear who's energy is what but I did my best. I think both you and your future in-laws may kind of flip back and forth feeling the same way about each other because I did pull some cards to represent your impression of your in-laws and was getting the same vibes and their impression of you.

There are multiple scenarios here so I split it up into bullet points.

Your future in-laws might need a minute to process who you are (aesthetic/interest-wise). (I also got they may need a couple years to come to terms with you? 😭 However, editing this it could have been that it took them a while to come to terms with their child/relative's type?)

I think you take everything they expect and flip it on their head, for better or worse.

I don’t sense any malice, but I definitely think that they may feel slightly avoidant of you at first? I don’t know why but I keep envisioning when you watch those movies and there’s someone coming over and the couple is in a panic and trying to act natural… I’m not sure that makes sense, but that’s what I keep getting. It’s not like 'Oh, we don’t like this person’. It’s more of an "X is coming and I didn’t have enough time to mentally prepare’. Some people just have a big personality, and even if you do like them you just kind of need to prepare yourself for them still 😅

For some of you, it could be that they’re worried you’ll lead their child/relative down a path they don’t agree with??? There’s fear here and the words aren’t coming out right because your in-laws like I said may not be able to immediately process you. I just get this weary sense, and that they know well enough there is no need to be weary of you.

Another possibility that comes to me is your person/future spouse may have also been one of those kids that leave their parents stressed 24/7 (like my sister), so your future in-laws try to run every scenario through their head trying to prepare themselves for what their child's partner could be like. They could also be relieved that you’re nothing like what they expected.

It could also be that they could feel like you’re the one who's guarded and has a wall up, or you’re anxious about meeting them and they pick up on that?

How will they receive you? Cards: Ashwagandha (purpose), Ginseng (magician), Sage (blessing), Mandrake (sensuality) The Magician, The Hierophant, Queen of Swords

While I was pulling the cards, “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan suddenly started ‘playing’ in my head. Your future in-laws may kind of see you as their pet project of sorts. Not like you need fixing in any way, you might just seem like a good candidate for something one or both of your in-laws have in mind. Good or bad thing that’s on a case-by-case basis. You’ve got the hierophant and magician and for whatever reason, the imagery especially kind of put that in my head. They may have certain rules or values that they will communicate are important to them. Those two cards, as well as the queen of swords, are all holding an item and I heard a 'talking stick'?? Maybe it means something to someone or maybe I just need to rest lol. I think your in-laws will do their best to form a relationship with you. One thing that definitely feels evident is that they will know you’re their child/relative's person. Their initial feelings from their impression of you may completely switch when it comes to interacting with you. They’ll put a genuine effort into getting to know you, and not just a courtesy get-to-know-you type of interaction. They genuinely want to connect with you and understand you. They’ll try to release any preconceived notions towards you and they may even verbalise this as well.

[i4oba]

nct dream as… / fanfiction aus 𓈒✳︎🏡

[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]

✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au

ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love - you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.

✰ RENJUN — soulmate!au

life had been pretty much grey and dreary until you found The One. the other half everyone had been so obsessed to find. you were never big on all this stuff, because you were convinced you'd be able to live as a single half for you whole life, and don't need anyone else to feel complete. deep inside you knew that all of this is bullshit, truly, and all that was coming out of you was true bitterness and constantly ongoing unsuccessful confessions, making you believe in your delusions. with every passing second, you had to see people find their other half, while you were left to deal with the grey world you were left in, not as a choice but as fate instead. you felt like a loser, a big zero, who doesn't even deserve a soulmate. you thought you were destined to die alone, maybe compensate with something of brilliance: be a composer or a singer, write or paint something extraordinary, lord knows what, just something of importance! you were looking for yourself in every corner of the world, not for a lover or a fling, not for an other half, fully ignoring the law of attraction. it might have been some reverse psychological trick, effecting it all. and this may have been the reason behind why you had to leave that horribly boring theatre play, sneaking out and bumping into The One, who handed back your accidentally dropped bag, slowly looking into your eyes. he might have worked at the theater as he was wearing a name tag on his elegant shirt - huang renjun, it said. but it doesn't even matter, because his eyes were brown! brown! not grey, brown! everything cleared up. you did find the half - with brown eyes and a smile so bright.

✰ JENO — coffee shop!au

it was pretty much bittersweet to step foot in your favourite café: it was getting dark out there, and although the rain has stopped pouring, you got absolutley soaked to the core along the way there, rain replacing the tears on your face by then. your hair was sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, your body trembling without stopping, as you entered. the bell placed above the entrance was ringing lightly, gathering everyone's attention to you, although there wasn't too much people there except for the baristas, maybe two wandering souls, working on their laptops or reading in a cozy corner. well, maybe if it wasn't for getting dumped literal minutes ago, you wouldn't be here either, but it was still the most reasonable choice compared to going to a club or a ruin bar, gettig incredibly drunk, Plus! a good espresso might be able to clear the fog in your head, which you were in need of during this stupidly stressing period of life. you expected hyuck to greet you by the coffee machine, grinning ear to ear, as he always does when you visit between two lectures, but there was a completely new face behind the counter. it's been a long time since you've last seen a new employee here. his smile was sweet and rather warm, eyes conveying a sense of concern as you took one step closer, rubbing your eyes while getting your purse out of your pocket - you discreetly looked at his name tag, right on his black apron: lee jeno. whatta name... by then, you were way to hopeless to try and guess how the day would go, but life had to surprise you, fate deciding funnily against all odds: next to your cup of coffee, there was a napkin, hiding a telephone number on it, messily written down with a short message as well: "would you go out on a date with me, darling? :)"

✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au

lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?

✰ JAEMIN — photographer!au

when jaemin brought up the idea of making the last parts of his portfolio with you (which basically means about you), you were a little bit skeptic at first. you loved jaemin dearly, since he was a really understanding friend, but... you were simply terrified of cameras. you didn't really like the idea of being captured at all, you hated looking back at yourself on pictures taken of you, and you couldn't even think about how high quality his pictures would be with that hyper super machine, focused on all the little flawed details of your face that you absolutely despised. no, you couldn't even bear the idea of this whole project, and you stood by this decision of yours, jaemin waiting patiently the whole time, not pushing it too hard. since he wanted to work with you no matter what, giving up on his plan wouldn't be too typical of him - the fight didn't last long but it was pretty heated, him highlighting so many known things that needed to be said finally: it's childish how you reflect on yourself, and your delusions stop you from way too many things. the way he said straight into your face how beautiful he thinks you are, inside and outside, and that he wants the whole world to know how ethereal you are, made you tear up a little - especially when he said his heart breaks every time you speak so lowly of yourself. he truly thinks you're the modern manifestation of aphrodite, that you are his own venus, the muse of him, someone he can adore... that he's way too in love with you to let go of this, and-; the kiss you gave him was short, yet gave him exact answers. answers to hundreds and thousand of unsaid questions he kept hidden in himself for years and years on end.

✰ CHENLE — blind date!au

you clearly didn’t brace yourself for this whole fiasco proposed by donghyuck himself, foolishly believing his reasonings behind how perfect of a matchmaker he is. of course you knew that what he way saying was partly stupid, plus you were like a seventy percent sure he wasn't even sober when he set up a blind date during that omnious frat party he wasn't invited to. you didn't have to worry or anything, that's just how you were - overly anxious of such things, even if you weren't meeting a psychopath. you were only a bit vary of the awkwardness this whole new experience would bring, both of you rushing home way too soon from the date, trying to forget about it as soon as possible. these misconceptions about how the night would go stayed straight until you stopped in front of the restaurant to wait for your - then late already - date. you were a little nervous he stood you up, and you got yourself into the most beautiful piece of clothing from you wardrobe for nothing, but it was worth it, looking back at it, as zhong chenle arrived and you two simply just... clicked? automatically? not to mention you two decided to leave the place after the hors d'oeuvre, since you both found the place a little too fancy at that moment, going to a simple ice cream parlor instead, taking a walk in the park after, talking about anything and everything that came to mind: family, politics, movies and the most embarrassing memories from your childhood came up too, as you couldn't help but laugh at how chenle dropped his ice cream cone on the ground, while he simultaneously promised you that he wouldn't drop the cone on the next date - and you smiled, so happily.

✰ JISUNG — secret admirer!au

you were head over heels for jisung and his undying love for dancing. but, thinking a bit deeper about it, while writing that foolish, teenager like love letter for him, forced into the role of his secret admirer, there were much more of those things that made you feel head over heels for the boy: he showed you what persistence was, he spent the whole of his youth with you, and he wasn't afraid to spend the rest of his life with you, helping you out anytime you're in need of it, since he couldn't not do that as you "best friend". he couldn't be evil with you, he was never able to leave you and he couldn't even envision a future in which you weren't by his side. but the border he made up between the two of you, was never crossed - you two were friends, not more, not less. you were so torn deep inside, as you were helpless, being in the never ending limbo you would rather push forward, but he kept on tugging it backwards; the idea of writing letters was originally from your mother, who had enough of your obvious agony. she was positive you would write every feeling of yours out, making it easier as time goes by. their number kept growing, however, one letter becoming a dozen soon enough, maybe even more in the meantime, while not writing a name on any of them, referring to yourself only as a mere secret admirer. they suddenly disappeared from the bottom of your drawer one day, though, realizing way too late that the ringing phone in your pocket was in fact park jisung, the picture of him taking up the screen of your mobile - did he know?

[uyuforu]

Pick-a-Card: Your Future Spouse

₊ ⊹ ALLEGEDLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY₊ ⊹

pile 1 -> pile 2

piles 3 -> pile 4

pick an image and scroll down to read your reading

Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡

Ekta Oracle: The medicine; The bunny; The arts; The road + The mind

Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: Winter; Aries; The man; Treason + Pluto

Original Tarot de Marseille: The tower; 3 of pentacles; 7 of swords; Queen of wands; The moon reversed; 5 of pentacles reversed + The lovers

Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: 8 of wands; The lovers; 5 of cups; 6 of pentacles; Ace of wands; 10 of wands + The stars

Lenormand Oracle: The choice; The fox; The well; The ink; The howls; The storks + The ring

Love Languages Oracles: A place to live; The unsaid; To be peaceful; Social medias + Wing of change

𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

-> Just starting with the reading and I can feel it right there, you and your FS are soulmates. This is a divine union, a protected relationship, and nothing was a coincidence in your meeting. It seems like this person will make you very much happy, you will feel blessed to have them in your life. You will feel so much lucky, it seems like this person was the magical cure you needed in your life. Now, I don't see a Prince Charming kind of vibe, I see this as an angel here helping you grow and evolve, and just being your daily dose of sunshine. This person will help you motivate yourself on life, they will be such a good supporter, even your number one fan. I feel like you might even become a leader or just even more motivated in your projects because of them. They will help you out to realize and use all of your inner potential. You might often run from reality, finishing your tasks or projects, or just refuse to be too serious, and this person will help you accept reality. They will help you realize this is not such a bad world as you may think it is. They may even help you be more stable in your life, they will literally be a wake up call from the universe. You will feel so thankful for the universe to have them by your side.

-> It's definitely a planned meeting, divinely organized. You may have been lovers in a past life too, so it will fee like you already know this person who you meet them. Some of you may have met this person before, and so you know them already. Some didn't meet them already. This person will help you a lot regarding your career. They could be a future or current co-worker of yours, but it doesn't seem like this detail really matters. What matters is that this person will make you develop all of your big potentials in your career. You will feel very successful because of this person, and you will definitely have a lot of money. This could also mean they are successful and so have any contacts, they will help you a lot with all the resources they have.

-> This person could be born in winter or spring, or you could meet them at that time. Aries, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces, Sagittarius, Gemini, Scorpio are important signs here. Your FS could appear quite cold and distant at first, but they have a very warm heart. They are someone who fight for what they want, they are not scared to make a move or change things, they will get what they want. Very ambitious. A go-getter. Very. masculine energy. They could be scared of treason too, could have enemies. So they might protect their back often, to earn their trust you need to prove yourself. This person might be a fast talker, or they just walk very fast. They have a very quick energy. They could work in the arts, medical fields. They are not scared how long the road is, for them the destination is what matter the most. Also, they don't care because they will run there lol. They are very quick minded and very smart too, could be a very logical person too. Very mature person. I feel like they are very stable in their life. You could meet them on social medias, or they are active on social medias. Social medias seem important here. This person will be your home, and you could feel like home from the first time you meet them. Even if this person seem very busy, it seems like they are not stressed, and they will also help you with that too.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡

Ekta Oracle: The time; The ribbon; The balance; The mind + The knight

Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: Treason; Saturn; The guide; Earth reversed + 3H reversed

Original Tarot de Marseille: The tower reversed; 7 of cups; The hanged man reversed; The pope; Ace of wands reversed; The chariot + King of pentacles reversed

Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: 7 of cups reversed; The hang man; Queen of cups; Ace of pentacles; The empress; The hermit + King of wands reversed

Lenormand Oracle: The ship; The ink; The dices; The knight; The woman; The man + The cross

Love Languages Oracles: Trickery; The impediments; The key of destiny; To feel attractive + The reconciliation

𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

-> There is a very masculine vibe from this pile, and it feels cold, distant, and very logical. That person is someone who value timing, and being patient. They could have a lot of wisdom and think patience is the real thing in life. So they could be slow, or just a person who is considered slow, but only by rushed people. They don't car much about other people. This person is very logical, they don't work with their hearts but mostly with their head. The could be a lawyer too, or work with Justice, the government, something similar to that. I think this person is very collected, they are not emotional or don't show their emotions that easily. When I pulled the first card, I got such a Capricorn & Saturn energy, so funny that I got the Saturn card too, it's a confirmation. This person is attached to their routine, and they don't like changements. They may also loving that everything is balance, and living an healthy lifestyle is important to them. They could appear older, or are older than you. I don't think this person is spiritual, but they are guided, and they may feel it but it doesn't seem like an awaken soul. This person is also an introvert for sure. They may feel awkward with strangers and don't open up easily at all.

-> Now, do you know this person? Could be for some of you, but I don't think so to be honest. This person has quite a story to me. It seems like they got brokenhearted. I think they literally had some sort of treason in their life by their ex partner. This could be cheating, lies, have been manipulated, gaslighting, etc. But something similar. It deeply hurt your Future Spouse, and they feel blocked for relationships now. They feel like they should keep their heart guarded, and not let anyone in from now on. This experience literally crushed their heart and destroyed them. I think it was def a lesson for them, but it created a trauma. For them, it was the end. And once you have a trauma, it's very hard to face it again. Almost impossible for a while. And this person seems like they are walking away from it, but their pain is still there. Deeply, I think this person still wants to get married later, but is def super scared. They feel like giving up, and they feel like they should move on from this idea. It seems hard for them to actually let anyone else enter their heard again. Very pessimistic at this idea. To them, it seems like humans are no good, and everyone is full of bad intention. Pretty sure this person was either married or engaged, or at least it was a strong commitment, a serious one. It wasn't just a random partner, they actually thought the person who betrayed them was the one. So I think this person now is trying to move on, but it seems like they prefer to move on alone. They can see selfish, or just cold, awkward by other people who don't know them, because of what happened.

-> Now, let's talk about you! This is my favorite part of the reading. I told you this person was ready to give up on the relationships, but that's because they don't know you yet! The thing is, you'll enter this person's life like a savior, like a knight. You'll come and rescue them from the darkness. It's def something that is destined, like it's organized by the divine. You are the key to this person's heart. Now, will it be easy? No lol. But you will def change this person's opinion on marriage and relationships. This person has been broken and you'll help them collect the pieces and heal their heart. This person will start to see a different point of view in life and even in themselves, you'll help them being more confident. You'll help them believe in love again, because they will fall in love with you. You will def get married later. They will see you as a gentle soul, a romantic person, such a nice and sweet heart, you will be their sunshine. There is a lot of feminine energy to you, but could be also in their point of view. You will make them so happy, and they will literally worship you? Like seeing you as their queen/ king, their loved one, they will be so proud to have you by their side. They will learn a lot from you, and they will have so much respect for you, my god I have so much love right now in my heart :(((( You will help this person open up, so don't be surprised one day if they literally cry in front of you, it's literally the most beautiful thing that will happen. They will let it all out.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡

Ekta Oracle: The bee; The link; The office; The couple; The man + The heart

Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: Uranus; Chiron reversed; New moon; Solar eclipse + The ruin

Original Tarot de Marseille: Ace of sword reversed; Temperance reversed; The strength; The pope; The devil reversed; The justice + 4 of cups reversed

Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: 5 of wands reversed; Death; Ace of cups; Jack of pentacles; The fool reversed; The empress; Jack of wands + The high priestess

Lenormand Oracle: The bridge; The book; The moon; The well; The lucky charm; The scythe + The swans

Love Languages Oracles: The unsaid; Magnetic relationship; Break-up Total Success + Cheating

𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

-> This pile is pretty confusing to be honest. I think you know this person? And something happened with them. Here is what I'm seeing. This person is someone who is busy, they may work a lot, or just has a busy life. You guys had a good connection, you were very attached, and maybe still are today. You may have dated or be a couple before, or you could have had feelings for each other. You may have wanted or been in a relationship with this person. This person can be a man, or have masculine energy. But there is something that happened, like a fight? It's like someone suddenly can't do it anymore and just go away? (I have the image of people fighting and one just throw stuff off a table lol). You could have been coworkers too. Or you could still be. This person may also be like a butterfly style of person, meaning they like to visit a lot of different flowers... you know what I mean. It means they may not have been ready for a relationship before, they prefer to flirt with many people, go on many dates, enjoy being single like that. And it may have hurt you. If you were in a relationship, there could have been some sort of cheating?

-> So you guys are not talking right now, and if you were in a relationship, you broke up now. You guys had such a good and amazing chemistry, and even you remember that. But it seems like despite that, things just ended. I think there were some lies, if not cheating. This person lied to you about something, or avoided the truth. You could have done that too. Maybe also not being honest with each other's feelings. Someone could have cheated, or it felt like it. Or maybe someone thought the other cheated why it wasn't the case. In any ways, there is a separation now. And I think you are not talking at the moment. But, there are still hope. To be honest, it feels like the connection is not over (obviously, this is your future spouse) but what I mean is that you can even feel it. There is a feeling of still having hope, and still feeling the link. And it seems like the separation was meant for you both to realize what went wrong, and how can you fix it. Despite whatever happened, you still love this person and they still love you. You may be not talking, but you guys think about each other a lot.

-> I think this is a divine union, like you guys have a soul link, whatever it is. The "break-up" or separation was meant for you both to work on yourself. What triggered you in this connection is what you should work on. Any toxic patterns, any triggers, work on it. Heal and work on yourself. It seems like you think there is no hope for the connection, but there is still. It feels like something is about to start over, but with good intentions. Like as if there were a huge storm, and it needed to rain, and once the rain is over, there is sunshine. It feels like that. Starting over. You guys can't move on from each other. Now, it feels like this person will message you or contact you. You will not. I think this person is seeing you as their divine counter part. It could also be that once you start working on yourself, they may want to contact you. You will def receive a piece of information from this person, something you had no idea about. They may have kept a secret, or they may reveal what they really feel for you. Or it may also be unexpected contact or message. It seems like they will take a chance, like contacting you, and revealing something to you. And it's something you didn't expect. You really will not see that coming. I think there will be some sort of long term proposition, and you will accept it. You guys will see each other again, and there is high hope for reunion!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Pile 4 - ₊˚⊹♡

Ekta Oracle: The brain; The island; The 3 bamboos; The deer + The fire

Celeste Astrokiff Oracle: The happiness; 12H; Earth; North Node + 11H

Original Tarot de Marseille: 5 of pentacles; 7 of wands; 6 of pentacles; Ace of cups reversed; Temperance reversed; The hermit + The stars reversed

Botticelli Tarot de Marseille: The justice; Knight of wands; Jack of pentacles; 6 of wands; The judgment; Ten of cups + 5 of wands reversed

Lenormand Oracle: The scythe; The dices; The lucky charm; The sun; The ring; The doors + The man

Love Languages Oracles: Softness & Tender-sweet; Home; Total Success; Karmic Connection + The beginning

𓆞𓆝 𓆟 Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

-> This person may be someone smart, someone who knows a lot, someone curious. They could also love to travel, and love to learn from this. They could also love to be alone, or the be in their own bubble, their own world. This person is pretty optimistic, and they could also have a lot of intuition. Could be a fire sign. Or could just be passionate. I also have the masculine energy here. But it's someone who has a balance energy. This person can be spiritual, or they could be religious. They feel a sort of link to a divine force. They could also be intuitive and connected, without actually calling it spiritual. I feel like they could also have a balanced natal chart, meaning the earth, air, water and fire energies are all balanced. They could be good at organizing their finances. Extrovert person. I don't think you know this person yet. This person works hard for their money, and they are someone right when it comes to work ethic. They will not lie, not cheat, and they want justice. They could work in something related to money or finances. They could also have their own business or their own company. They are good at handling stuff, tasks, projects, and they are hard working. A natural leader. And because they work good and make smart move, they can actually make any of their projects successful? This person is generous too when it comes to their money, and they know where to place it.

-> I don't think this person is focused on relationships right now, and I think they are single. They could have a hard time to balance their life between work and personal life, so I think it's unbalanced right now. Meaning they may spend too much time at work, and not enough with their loved one. It will be something you will teach them to do. Or remind them to do. They could have honestly lose hope about relationships? Or just felt like it's a waste of time. Despite that, I feel like they will be the one to give an offer, you guys could meet at work or related to money. When you meet, they could be the one asking you on a date, or just making you see they are interested. Of course, you will be in a relationship, obviously. But I think there is not resistance, I mean that you will also be interested. There is no games with this person. This will feel like a great love. A sort of love at first sight could happen too. But you guys will feel like you are in a fairytale. The honeymoon phase will be long for you. You will feel so at home with each other, this is definitely a divine connection. A lot of love and pda. And to be honest, you guys could be in a relationship together quite fast. And a proposal could also happen fast.

-> I think this person will ask you to marry them very fast, because they love you so much and they will just feel so euphoric about their feelings for you. They will just take a leap of faith, and ask you to marry them. But as I said, it will be fast. Like not even a year of dating? Pretty sure more fast than that. But you will hesitate. Not because you don't love them, you will LOVE that person. But it seems like you will be logical at that point, and may feel like it's too soon? You may say no, and this person will see that as hardship. They will feel sad about it. I don't think you will break up, this person will see that as a challenge. Mostly because everything turned out in their favor before, and you are the first hardship? Lol. They will wait again and make sure to ask again later...

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

back to index ; ask ; requests ; rules

[tarotwithlove]

PAC ⋆ meeting your future spouses family for the first time!

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · BOOK A 2024 YEAR AHEAD READING WITH ME (GENERAL OR NSFW) · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · eight of boons, six of spells, keeper of spells, keeper of challenges (reversed), the faery wind, child of boons, the grace fool: be graceful. 

channelled songs · famous by taemin. end transmission by fire from the gods. identity by taemin. bad friend by rina sawayama. 

hey there group one ♡ you will be fairly anxious before the meeting. for some, to the point of nausea or loss of appetite. you will think that you’ll have to go above and beyond, work three times as hard, just to be liked. this will not be the case at all as your future spouse’s family will be enamoured by immediately. 

because of your anxiety, and because you want to make the best impression possible, you will put a lot of effort into your look, into bringing a home-cooked meal or a freshly made dish. all which will be appreciated but unnecessary -- and your partner may tell you as such time and again, but you will disregard it. 

you might be your future spouse’s first partner or, more likely, the first partner that your future spouse has brought home. because of this, your future spouse’s family will already know that you are special; that there is something special about you and about the relationship you and your future spouse share. 

while meeting your future spouse’s family, you may feel like you’ve taken centre stage. it may only be your future spouse’s parents that you’re meeting here rather than a whole family, or a mother and a grandmother. they will be jovial and full of smiles -- genuine, radiant smiles. they will ask you lots of questions about yourself and pay you a lot of attention, so much so you won’t have a moment alone. a moment of quiet. or a moment to just sit. 

but i don’t think you’ll even want it. you’ll love talking to your future spouse’s family, and will get along with them so well and so easily that you will wonder why you were ever scared in the first place. your future spouse will whisper a loving, “i told you so,” when you share this sentiment with them. 

there may be an obvious difference between you and your future spouse's family. they may be visibly and obviously rich -- though they are the kind of family that says they are "well-off" or "comfortable", not a family that ever describes themselves as rich or wealthy. or they may just be richer than you and your family ever were (they have a house in the suburbs when you only ever lived in small apartments for example). for some, they may be a famous or renowned family. 

this will make you feel uncomfortable at first but their genuine warmth and excitement to meet you will quickly get rid of any discomfort.

for some of you, your future spouse’s family may even try to rope you into the family business. or into joining them as vendors at a weekend market.  

GROUP TWO

cards · the oldest one, eight of boons, five of spells, six of visions, child of visions, the enchanter’s wheel, the sentimental fool: make life happen now. 

channelled songs · nobody gets me by sza. goosebumps by travis scott. ms mural by lupe fiasco. ave maria by beyoncé. 

hey there group two ♡ it is more important for you to meet your future spouse’s family that consists of their child or children rather than meeting your future spouse’s family that consists of their parents or anyone else. 

you may have never dated a parent before, so this will be particularly stressful -- as with all things that are new to a person. you want them to not just like you but approve of you, and you'll wonder if this is even possible or if they'll hate you at first sight. 

you will bring gifts for the children -- something which you would have done regardless, but which is more important as this first meeting is taking place at this child's (or one of their children's) birthday party. you'll ask your future spouse for advice or grill them about what this child likes so that you can get them the perfect, the absolute best present -- but all this without looking like you're trying too hard. this energy of being careful not to seem like you're trying too hard will also come through in the way you dress and carry yourself. you want to come across as laidback and as someone this child -- or these children -- can connect with.

you have such a gentle, ethereal energy that this child will immediately be drawn to you. you seem like an angelina jolie figure in my mind, as someone who is beautiful and who just has this absolutely lovely spirit. and the child will be enamoured by you. if the child is young, they will think that you are a fairy or a prince/princess. 

at first, this child may not even realise that you and their parent are in a relationship. they just think that you’re a guest at their party, a friend of their parent or something similar. i’m thinking of the scene from one of the despicable me movies where gru dresses up in a fairy costume for one of his kid’s birthday’s, so this may be a similar situation you find yourself in; volunteering to be the entertainment or to dress according to a certain theme. maybe even as a party clown, for some. 

when the party dies down, your future spouse introduces you officially to their child as their partner. once they find out, this child will be shy at first but will then almost immediately get excited and drag you to their pile of birthday presents. 

GROUP THREE

cards · six of spells, the huntsman, the wisewoman, ten of boons, weaver of boons, keeper of spells, the doubt fool: doubt appearances, as they can be misleading. 

channelled songs · i belong to you by whitney houston. suck my dick by lil kim. favorite (vampire) by nct 127. dead man walking by brent faiyaz. 

hey there group three ♡ there is an aura of falseness around your first meeting with your future spouse's family. they may be kind to you and very sweet, almost too sweet, as if, if you were to peek beneath the shiny veneer of familial love and openness you would see a coldness. a distinct disapproval. 

this is likely because of some major difference or divide between you and your future spouse and their family -- especially when it comes to how you look. there may be a racial divide here, or you may be plus size, or transgender, or just any major difference here that makes your future spouse’s family disapprove of you. even if they do not voice their disapproval to you. the only reason they do not voice their disapproval to you is because of your future spouse and any conversation they had or warning they gave ahead of time. 

your future spouse’s family may spend the whole time judging you; sizing you up. and while they may not say anything outright, it may at many points become obvious the true feelings they harbour towards you. through subtle remarks and snide comments that could be brushed off as nothing if you were to bring them any attention. this may come most of all from your future spouse’s mother, as well as from an older sister. 

they may grill you and at times it may feel like you’re being interviewed -- especially by your future spouse’s father who may be more reserved but more unnerving to speak to.

you may try to convince yourself that they liked you, even though you get the feeling that they hate you and don’t want anything more to do with you. that they, more than anything, don’t want your future spouse to have anything more to do with you. they’ll think you’re fine enough. they’ll think you’re nice enough. they’ll think that you’re okay, but that you’re not someone who your future spouse should marry. 

once you and your future spouse leave, they'll likely gossip about you; about the way you do your makeup, the way that you look, the way that you carry yourself. they make find problems where there aren't any.

GROUP FOUR

cards · five of challenges, two of visions, ace of spells, the faery wind, six of boons, four of spells, the faith fool: have faith. 

channelled songs · all the man that i need by whitney houston. so beautiful by dpr ian. heavyweight champion of the year by nilufer yanya. blinking game by jonghyun. 

hey there group four ♡ this is the most interesting group by far… when you meet your future spouse’s family for the first time, you may meet someone they are related to with whom you have an instant connection with. this may be love at first sight, but a love you only acknowledge over time. years and years down the line, when you and your future spouse have already been married for some time and things are much too complicated. especially as this may be your future spouse’s sibling, or your future spouse’s very close cousin. 

the first time you meet your future spouse’s family might be at a party, dinner or family gathering. your future spouse will go off to run an errand for another family member or to speak to someone before they leave, leaving you alone. in this time is when this person will come to talk to you. they will make you feel safe, welcome, and comfortable. amongst this sea of people you do not know, they will make you feel at ease. absolute ease. 

this person will chat with you. they'll make you laugh. they'll flirt with you, but in a way that you don't take it seriously at all and rather see it as something fun -- and actually quite refreshing. the way that they speak to you immediately makes you feel like less of an outsider. 

once your future spouse is back by your side, they take you around and introduce you to everyone. and while your future spouse’s family likes you and you like everyone, no one will make quite the first impression that this particular person does.

[saerins]

─── 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄

+ gojo x f!reader | wc 2.3k | content: modern au, fluff, slight angst, rich!gojo, rich!reader, arranged marriage but reversed(?), slightly suggestive

notes: haha i was exploring tropes and this just came to me :’) fairly nervous so feedbacks and reblogs appreciated muwah <3

summary: sometimes you think that you and gojo are not meant to be. and sometimes, he itches to prove you wrong.

there are many things you would call gojo satoru. partner in crime, friendship on fire, a twisted manifestation of the kind of romance that would consume you whole if you didn’t take precaution.

“ready to do this, baby?”

he’s as sweet-lipped as ever, the honeyed words overflowing from his tongue. how you’d miss it, those words you hear at night, the saccharine praises that send you into overdrive.

“only if you are, sweetie.”

you’re equally good at it, having learned from one of the best—gojo satoru himself. you smirk at him, straightening his suit and tie. he looks devilishly handsome in that tailored suit, the one you had made for him. if you recall correctly, he only saves it for a special occasion.

and it qualifies—today is definitely a special occasion.

“so happy to be getting rid of me?” satoru asks you, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes. his white lashes house a sea of crystalline blue, the kind you’ve gotten addicted to, the same pair you’d gotten lost in many times over.

you’ll never forget it.

the way satoru’s lips ghost over your own. the way his index finger trails up the side of your arm. he likes the goosebumps that sear across your skin. satoru loves knowing the effect he has on you.

this marriage of convenience has taken its toll on both your families. in hindsight, they should’ve known that they can’t control either of you. the gojo family, for all they’re worth, thought that gojo satoru would never betray their money, their status. and your family—they’d always known you’d objected to these notions; convenience, business, romance—the way these three intertwine intentionally, a manufactured relationship borne out of familial ties.

it’s bullshit.

how lucky for you, that gojo satoru felt the same. he still feels the same, which is why he’s in front of you right now, getting ready to drop the bomb in the investors’ meeting.

his father is sure to kill him, but that’s provided he can get through you first.

sure, getting married to gojo satoru was not in your life plans. your mother had chosen a very apt timing to tempt you, quoting half a million dollars as the condition for getting and staying married to that gojo boy. and sure, she can do her best to try and haggle that money back from you once the both of you are done with today, but you’re guessing she’ll be facing much more important and pressing matters than simply getting money back from her defiant daughter.

“this is what we discussed, satoru,” you sigh, avoiding his question like he knew you would. “one year, that’s all we needed. and look where we are now.”

satoru smiles, pearly whites and bad boy charm. “i’d miss you in my bed at night though.”

you smack him playfully across his chest. he only chuckles lowly, fondly, his right hand on your head, brushing your hair. it almost makes you want to stay. but that wasn’t part of the deal, and you’re not sure that either you or satoru are ready for commitments.

“must’ve been some pretty good sex to make the gojo satoru miss me, huh?” you play along, pushing yourself away gently, your hand on his chest.

satoru tips your chin up with his finger, looking you in the eyes as he tells you, “babe, you’re the best pussy i’ve ever had.”

complete romantic, as you can tell. (you can’t stop his vulgar tongue even if you tried.)

“okay okay, stop stalling, satoru,” you chide him, holding your palm out, smiling as he takes it. “got the evidence?”

satoru holds a thick envelope out, grinning. “all here.”

the two of you stand outside the conference room for a minute, staring at each other. in another world, maybe you’d be in this hotel with gojo satoru where you’re actually married—for feelings rather than a transaction. in that other world, maybe you and gojo satoru were childhood sweethearts, the kind where you grew old without all the fucked up relationships that branded both of you too overwhelmed to be in a real one right now. hey, maybe in that world, maybe just maybe, that vow that gojo satoru had uttered on your wedding day (the same that you had uttered as well)—maybe he would’ve meant it.

you didn’t think you would come to like gojo satoru. it’s been a long time since you’d first met him. when you’d seen him stomping into the meeting room of your company’s office like he owned the place, like everyone there was beneath him. he’d gotten right under your skin then and there.

getting along was no easy feat. it took three months for the both of you to agree to live together. strangely it took just one night for you both to give in to temptation once you did start living together.

both of you are menaces—that’s what your mother would say.

somehow, somewhere, those feelings you thought you’d never feel before blossomed again. the kind of trust you didn’t think you’d ever give was given to satoru and you wonder if he even knows it. but satoru has never changed his stance on relationships since the first time you met him; they’re a waste of time.

“you know, if you wanna keep me, all you gotta do is say so.” satoru’s looking at you, that jester smile plastered on his face. you can’t see his beautiful eyes when it’s all crinkled up like that, but you thank god for that. you don’t know how you’d resist him if you could see them.

“dream on, satoru,” you deflect, and expertly. you’re great at hiding your real feelings like that. “our deal ends today.”

yeah, the deal the two of you made with each other, right when both families thought their children had made peace with their decision, or their fate, as they liked to call it. neither you nor gojo felt any affection for the family you grew up in, not when they’d never took interest in either of you as anything other than an heir. when both your childhoods were filled with extra readings and learning proper manners. when satoru grew up learning from his father that women were just a means to a child and you’d grown up learning from your mother that if a girl is not beautiful then she is not desirable. you remember how she almost disowned you for getting a scar on your face, even though it was only temporary.

she has a penchant for the overdramatics. you think today might be no different. you hope not. the entire aim of today is to bring about the crumble of two empires—gojo’s and your family’s.

to hell with their money and their dirty syndicates. it’s filthy money they have their hands full with, and frankly, you and satoru are done playing their pawns.

as satoru leads the way, you loop your arm around his elbow, watching as his father is taken completely off-guard when he watches his own son expose his schemes, watching as your own parents try to salvage the situation by saying how children these days would do anything to get out of their responsibilities.

they’re all walking ironies.

you both watch as the investors walk out one by one, outraged and disappointed. you watch as satoru’s own father vows to kill him, and you scoff as your own mother seconds his notion.

“not if the law gets you first,” you tell them, effectively shutting them up as they hear the police sirens in the air.

they spew about how the both of you are pieces of shit as they’re taken away, and you find you couldn’t care less. maybe it’s a little inhuman of you not to feel a thing when you watch your parents getting taken away in handcuffs. but then again, they’d never really treated you like a human either.

“here you go,” satoru chirps as the sirens drown into the background. he holds out another envelope, this one solely for you.

you smile, a melancholy washing over you as you take it from his hands and take the documents out, flipping to the last page where satoru has already signed.

“our divorce papers,” you coo, “how romantic.”

because gojo satoru is always a romantic.

he remembers your birthday and remembers your favourite cake. he remembers what you need when you’re upset, never makes you feel alone. he remembers how you like your eggs and purposely cooks them wrong all the time. he remembers how you take your coffee and always gives you tea. he remembers how you always nag at him for annoying you and then annoy you some more because for some reason you look very attractive when you’re angry.

it takes you a minute to sign your own name. it kind of feels lonely now, thinking how you’ll never go back to the same apartment as satoru. how you won’t see him sprawled out on the couch, pouting because you’re a little late for movie night. how you won’t catch him staring at your body as you get changed. how you won’t get to throw your pillows at him in the morning for tickling you in bed just to get you to wake up.

after all—you’d agreed; these affections were temporary like they were always meant to be.

you can’t help but find yourself wishing for more. but you were raised to be ruthless, not stupid. you won’t let satoru know of your feelings, because all your deductions say that nothing good will come of it.

“hmm,” satoru hums as he eyes your signature. “wouldn’t be opposed to a special arrange—”

“not gonna be your fuckbuddy, satoru,” you deadpan at him, flicking his forehead.

“why not?” he whines, and you nearly cave.

because you can’t risk falling further than you already have when there’s absolutely zero chance of satoru catching you.

“because there’s a long line of guys i wanna date and you should get in line first,” you lie, and satoru smirks like he’s caught on to something.

but if he has, he doesn’t say a thing, and that tells you everything you need to know.

“guess this is it then, l/n y/n?”

you don’t want it to be, but it has to.

“you made a great fake real husband, gojo satoru,” you tell him, shaking his hand.

kind of a lame goodbye for two people who had shared everyday together for the past year. but you think maybe this brief goodbye should suffice. you don’t want the flames to burn either of you blue.

gojo satoru doesn’t say another word when you turn to leave.

and you don’t turn to look back at him as you walk away.

some chapters of your life should come to a close. your chapter with gojo satoru should remain here, kept close in your heart, kept warm as memories should.

six months later.

“i just think you and i would be suited for other people.”

it’s funny, how everything never works out between you and other guys. you don’t recall it being so hard with satoru. perhaps he was truly made for you, like the heavens designed. but both of you were too similar, too afraid of commitment. nothing was going to come out of it anyway.

and maybe that’s why you miss it.

his fleeting glances, soft lips on tender skin and a pair of calm blue that never fails to mesmerise you.

satoru is the fleeting kind of romance that burns so bright in its prime and the kind you can never keep close. not when he isn’t willing to tone it down and when you don’t have the tolerance to match.

strangely, maybe that’s also why you’re still drawn to him. you’re still hoping that there will be a flaw in the design, that your seemingly parallel lines will intersect somehow. that maybe you won’t have to try and replace him with someone else.

“yeah, kento, i get it,” you tell nanami, sipping on your tea as you watch him get up and go.

you and nanami would not have worked out anyway. not when you’re way too fucked up and he’s comparibly normal. it would be too much for him. you would be too much for him. you stare at the tea in front of you. you kind of miss those dates satoru took you on; trespassing on private property and reliving youth in arcades.

satoru is everything—love, heartache, gambles, sins. both of you are spun from the same thread, and maybe you believe that if soulmates exist, you and him have the same red thread twirled around your pinkies.

though, the fact that he isn’t here simply proves you to be wrong.

last you’d heard, satoru was travelling the world, carefree and spreading his wings like you always knew he would.

you find yourself wishing that perhaps, somehow, you’d meet him again. but you sigh and get up, knowing you are far too old for this wishful thinking.

but where you’d thought that satoru was roaming, you forget that he’s much like a swallow. because now, when you turn around, you catch that same shade of ocean blue staring straight at you, the same white locks that obstructed your vision in the mornings.

the same satoru who’d learned of love through you and you alone. the same satoru who, even if he leaves, will always find his way back to you, no matter how much you try to deny and push him away.

satoru takes two steps forward before he pulls you towards him, his long arms coming around you and holding you tight.

this time, he’s not going to let you go.

“y/n,” he calls your name softly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “wanna give this another shot?”

[stardustpr1ncess]

Bonzle is 100% without a shadow of a doubt a trans allegory. People have been trying their best to say Sora isn't transcoded, but Bonzle is 2 scenes away from looking at the camera and saying "Hello. I'm a trans allegory." I shall now go into detail on every piece of evidence for this claim because fuck you.

EPISODE 5: Bonzle is afraid of how her found family will react to learning she's a spell (trans) and worries she will be rejected because of it. Easy parallel to trans people being afraid of revealing they're trans post transition. There's also her conversation with Bitch Boy Master Wu, with her saying she feels great loneliness, and only after gaining a physical form (transitioning) she feels happy and her true self. Very common trans experience. Gonna also put all of the quotes for my evidence as well since I know there's transphobes (filth) that like Ninjago and will be scrambling to deny it when people start coming to this conclusion too.

"Bonzle: I-- I was afraid of what you'd think if you knew about my past... Wu: It's called loneliness... Bonzle: I feel like, for the first time ever, I've become who I was destined to be... Bonzle: I was afraid if you found out I wasn't a real person, you wouldn't want me to be in our family anymore."

EPISODE 6: Bonzle is apprehensive about meeting with Gandalaria, seeing as how she's only known Bonzle as a spell, aka pre transition. She worries if she will respect her identity, much like how actual trans people fear how their family, more specifically a parental figure, would react. Bit of a light episode but an important aspect, here's the quotes;

"Bonzle: The Sorceress. She only knows me as a spell. What if she doesn't believe in me as a real person?"

EPISODE 7: This episode is the sauce. Bonzle is reunited with Gandalaria and their conversation is nothing short of magical. Gandalaria immediately recognizes Bonzle, saying she was her greatest creation and had always hoped she'd come home, shattering Bonzle's fears. It's a fantastic contrast, showing how this interaction can go well for some people, while others get an interaction much more akin to Sora's parents. When she's informed of Bonzle's chosen name, Gandalaria immediately starts using it, saying it's a great name. However, for that juicy authenticity, Gandalaria accidentally says spell before quickly correcting herself saying Bonzle. IT'S LITERALLY SO FUCKING OBVIOUS BONZLE'S BONES MIGHT AS WELL BE BLUE PINK AND WHITE. Oh yeah, here's the paragraph of quotes;

"Gandalaria: It's you! My dearest! You've come home! Bonzle: You... You recognize me? Even in my boney physical form? Gandalaria: Oh, I would know your true essence anywhere. Bonzle: I was so afraid you wouldn't accept me for who I am now. Gandalaria Are you kidding? I put my heart, my soul into every spell I weave... The most complex spell I've ever woven, and the first of my creations to ever come back to me!.. Bonzle: I'm Bonzle. That's the name I chose when I became a person. Gandalaria: Well, that's a splendid name... If this Ras times it right, he could reverse the power spell-- uh, Bonzle here--."

EPISODE 9: This episodes importance comes from Jordana, who acts EXACTLY how transphobes do. She constantly calls her a spell (some sort of derogatory term), says she's playing person (like pretending to be a girl), and says she's helping her do what she was made for, like transphobes very creepy beliefs in reproduction. Literally you half expect Jordana to ask which bathroom Bonzle uses since she was a spell. THE QUOTES;

"Jordana: Settle down, spell. I don't know what you think you've been doing, playing person with your fake family, but I know your true purpose... You should thank us. We're helping you to do what you were created to do."

In conclusion the silly lego skeleton girl is one of them spooky transgenders. Lmk if there's anything I missed. Thank you for reading.

[devildom-moss]

I really love your series on Mc giving everyone a kiss on the cheek. Can I ask for the reverse? Where they give a kiss on the cheek or something similar (a gift, perhaps?) for their Mc?

Okay, so this ask is going to take me a while, so I'm going to split it up. I hope you don't mind. I didn't quite go with the same PDA premise for this one - hope that's okay. So, what I did was I thought about who would be more likely to give a kiss on the cheek, a gift, or both. So part 1 of this request will be both. I hope you like it if you see this (sorry it took me so long to get to this, by the way).

Signs of Affection (kiss + gift)

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Leviathan x gn!MC) (Diavolo x gn!MC) (Barbatos x gn!MC) (Simeon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,500

Lucifer

It was starting to get late when your D.D.D. buzzed. Lucifer was on an extended business trip with Diavolo and had taken to sending you secret good-night texts before he went to bed. Apparently, he didn’t think he could go five days without contacting you. He had even called on the third day just to hear your voice. With an affectionate smile, you checked your D.D.D. However, this message wasn’t what you were expecting.

Lucifer: Please go to my office.

You were confused – solely because you expected his office to be empty. Lucifer would be gone until tomorrow morning. Perhaps he had something valuable teleported there?  Whatever it was, if Lucifer was willing to say “please,” you figured it was important. Your heart jumped from your chest when you walked into the room and saw Lucifer sitting back in a chair with one leg crossed over the other.

“There you are.” He looked at you seductively, waiting for you to get closer so he could pounce. “Come in.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.” You made no attempt to hide your smile. It was nice to see him earlier than expected, but it made you wonder. “So, did things go really well or was it a disaster – for you to be back early, that is?”

“Let’s say it went well.” Lucifer smirked, unwilling to admit that he had all but begged Diavolo to allow him to return home early. If Diavolo hadn’t felt bad for Lucifer being ogled at throughout the trip – not to mention being hit on during three separate occasions by different nobles and a rather forward marriage proposal, he might have insisted that Lucifer stayed the extra half a day. Diavolo had noticed that Lucifer was uncomfortable the second he was away from polite company, and he had only seen Lucifer genuinely smile when he was on his phone and on the first morning when they were out window shopping before their meeting. So, Lucifer took an earlier train back, leaving Barbatos and Diavolo alone for one more night of mingling. By the time he got back, Lucifer was exhausted – although not so exhausted that he couldn’t carve out some time for his beloved human. “Sit, have a drink with me.”

You took the seat next to him and he handed you a chilled glass of Demonus he had already poured in anticipation of your arrival. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Not in the slightest – although it might have gone better if you were with me.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“Nothing important. Now,” Lucifer started, uncrossing his legs and leaning closer to you, “did you miss me?”

“It wasn’t even five days, Lucifer.” You rolled your eyes. “I won’t die of loneliness.”

“Oh? I thought I was supposed to be the cruel one.” Lucifer leaned down and grabbed the leg of your chair, pulling you closer – and, quite ungracefully, causing a bump in the rug. You were left between his legs, and Lucifer used his newly obtained proximity to run his hand up your thigh. “I missed you terribly. I was dying of loneliness.”

“How many drinks did you have before I arrived?” you sighed.

“This is the first one, I’m afraid.” Lucifer swirled the Demonus in his glass before setting it down. Only then did you notice the small box sitting behind the bottle on the table. His eyes followed yours, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Curious?”

“Souvenir from your trip?”

“Almost.” Lucifer scooped up the box before returning his gaze to you. He stared, expectant and almost sad. “Just tell me you missed me – even if you’re lying.”

“I waited up for your texts every night. Of course I missed you.” You caressed his cheek, and teased, “you soft, baby boy.”

“Confession accepted. Close your eyes,” Lucifer instructed. You agreed, but not without rolling them once more. You heard him open the box and felt him take your hand before slipping something onto your wrist. Still, you kept your eyes shut – even as he turned your hand over and kissed your wrist – until he gave you the signal. He turned your hand back around, continuing to hold it, and said, “okay. You can open them.”

It was a bracelet with round, black crystal beads. When the light hit them at the right angle, you could see flashes of red. It kind of reminded you of “. . . your eyes.”

“What?” Lucifer asked.

“It reminds me of your eyes,” you admitted, looking between the stones and his eyes. “They’re both beautiful.”

Lucifer’s cheeks grew pink, and he cleared his throat before mentioning, “it’s made of Hell-Sheen Obsidian. It’s a rare stone that can only be harvested from the lava that forms within a volcano near the location of our business trip. The volcano has been dormant for centuries, and genuine pieces are hard to come by. They offer the wearer strong protection. I want you to wear it when I’m not around to watch over you.”

It hadn’t escaped you that Lucifer had yet to release your hand, so you brought his knuckles to your lips. The soft kiss only made Lucifer’s blush deepen. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

“Thank you, my love.” Lucifer leaned in and kissed your cheek affectionately. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, the reds of his irises glimmering in the dim light. “What do you say we take advantage of my early return, and you spend the rest of the night with me?”

Leviathan

There was an off-beat knock at your door – like someone had hesitated to commit to the knock. The awkward noise was followed by an equally uncomfortable, “Uhm, MC? Are you there?”

“Levi?” you asked, sitting up in your bed. It was already well past dinner, and you had laid down with your D.D.D., so you weren’t expecting someone to interrupt your mindless, pre-sleep scrolling. “Gimme a sec.”

You got out of bed to unlock the door and found Levi standing anxiously in the hallway, clutching something close to his chest. Hoping to ease some of his tension, you invited him into your room. He followed with the nervous energy of someone who was doing something he probably shouldn’t.

With the door shut, you questioned him, “Are you okay?”

“I – yeah. Here.” Levi thrust the item he was holding in your direction. It was a box, wrapped in Azuki-tan paper – no doubt something that Levi had wrapped himself.

“What’s this for?” You took the package from his hands, politely ignoring the small yelp he made when your fingers grazed his.

“For, um – to thank you, you know, for helping me cram before the exam the other day.” Levi’s cheeks began to flush, but he continued, rushing his words as he tried to explain. “You didn’t have to do that, but because of you, I passed, and I don’t have to take extra classes over the weekend, which means I can watch Chocolate Heartbreak stream their mini concert live tomorrow. And I know I thanked you at the time, but I wanted to thank you again because I’m really happy that you decided to help a gross otaku like me – even though you probably didn’t have any fun because who has fun studying with a shut in? But anyway, thank you.”

“Oh, Levi, baby, breathe.” He hadn’t taken a single breath during that last part. You put your hand on his head and rubbed him gently, hoping to calm him down. While he did take a few slow, steady breaths, his heart only raced, and his cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink. “Thank you for the present, really, but I had a good time studying with you. I was happy to help. And you aren’t gross, either.”

Levi covered his face with his hands and murmured, “thank you.”

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Can I open it now?”

Instead of words, Levi simply nodded. You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a charm with chibi drawings of the members of Chocolate Heartbreak, a matching sticker, and a brown tin with a red broken heart and each of the members in cute poses around the sides of the tin. Inside was an assortment of themed candies and cookies. Levi peeked through his fingers to watch your reaction. When you smiled, he found the courage to speak again.

“Chocolate Heartbreak did a collab with Madam Devian’s and a local artist to put out a themed snack tin to promote their mini concert. I ordered a few, but I made sure to buy one specifically for you.” Levi stared at your hands, holding the tin. “Well, uhm, I was thinking maybe we could eat them together while we watch the concert live tomorrow – if you want to!”

“Of course! I’d love to.” You smiled at him.

Levi looked up, his mouth agape as if he wasn’t expecting you to accept so enthusiastically. His mouth opened and closed, as if to speak, before he managed to mumble something out. “. . . you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked, getting slightly closer. Levi rubbed his arm nervously.

“I love you!” he blurted out. Levi quickly leaned in to kiss your cheek before attempting to flee. However, you caught his arm before he could make his escape, and pulled him in, kissing his lips sweetly – and, for the sake of his heart, briefly.

“I love you, too. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow to watch the concert. Goodnight, Levi.” You grinned and let him go, but not without teasingly adding, “unless you want to spend the night, that is.”

“N-not at this time! Thank you. Good night!” Levi was a ball of giddiness and nerves as he slithered out of your grasp and ran away down the hall. How in the Devildom was he going to get to sleep now?

Diavolo

It was hard to know exactly what to expect when Diavolo called you to the castle – with instructions to head directly to his room once you arrived. Usually, he would joke around or send some kind of flirty sticker to indicate that this was a purely social call. He had just returned from a business trip, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had heard something troubling on his trip – or maybe someone had spread some unsavory rumors that reached him upon his return. Everyone had been well behaved enough, though. Still, if Diavolo was in a bad mood, you weren’t particularly thrilled to have to deal with it, but you had already agreed to meet with him. Besides, Diavolo wasn’t usually scary, and no matter how bad his mood was, he had never been mean to you before – indifferent, perhaps, but not actively cruel.

Either way, you readied yourself for needing to verbally defend the brothers or yourself as you tapped at his door. To your relief, the “enter” from the other side of the door didn’t sound too upset.

Diavolo had been sitting on his sofa, staring at a black box on his coffee table. He immediately perked up, standing to his feet, when he realized the knock had come from you. A smile grew on his face as he exclaimed, “You’re early.”

“I was in town – not too far from the castle. Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all,” Diavolo laughed. “I’d much prefer to see you than anyone else – just don’t tell Barbatos.”

Diavolo brought his finger to his lips. You laughed, letting the tension in your body go. Based on his reception of you, it was clear that you hadn’t been called for something too grave. “So, I take it I’m not in trouble today?”

Once again, Diavolo laughed. He looked down, and when his eyes returned to you, they had a mischievous glint – something more boyishly charming than befitting royalty. In a smooth, tempting tone, he teased, “Why, did you do something bad, MC? Should I punish you?

“Only if I get to punish you the next time that you’re bad,” you teased back with a smirk. Diavolo’s eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks burn. Pleased that you had successfully flustered the prince, you answered him honestly, “I’m kidding. I didn’t do anything bad, but your message seemed so serious. I was racking my brain trying to figure out if I had done something wrong while you were away.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I was exhausted when I sent that message,” Diavolo admitted, ashamed that he had made you worry. “The only reason I have any energy at all is because I was eager to see you. I’ll be sure to add more hearts to my messages the next time I want to see you.”

“Please don’t. I might mistake your texts for Asmo’s,” you joked. “I’ll just try not to assume your mood based on one text next time. Anyway, why did you call me over if you’re so exhausted?”

Diavolo motioned towards the box on the table, “For this.”

“Hm?” You looked between him and the box. “The box you were trying to burn holes into with your eyes when I walked in? What? Is someone trying to court you again?”

“Goodness no. I’ve been pleasantly lacking in suitors recently. There is this one suitor, though – nearly as powerful as they are cute.”

“Solomon’s trying to seduce you now? I know he wants a pact with you but to resort to going about it by getting you in bed – how devious.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you feigned disappointment.

“Not the teacher,” Diavolo chuckled. He grabbed the box and presented it to you. “I’m talking about his favorite ‘adorable apprentice.’ I’ve gotten a present for them.”

You wanted to continue your game, feigning surprise, but your heart had melted far too much for you to keep up the act. With heart-wrenching sincerity, you responded, “thank you. Can I?”

“Of course. Please, go ahead.” Diavolo watched on as you lifted the box lid to reveal a lovely silk tie with one of your favorite flowers printed on it. Even the tie color and the print color were ones you preferred. Mephisto would have nothing on your tie game now – not that he ever did. “I missed you while I was away. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. When we had the opportunity to tour the city, I took that time searching for a token of my affection.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Diavolo. I feel like you’re going to spoil me.”

“Nonsense! A treasure like you cannot be spoiled.” Diavolo pulled you in close, leaned in until his breath was tickling your ear, and whispered, “You know, you don’t simply have to wear this tie. Perhaps we can come up with a more creative use for it?”

Diavolo kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to savor the warmth of your skin.

Barbatos

You had been so exhausted as of late, and the combination of late nights and the day-to-day stress that the brothers et al. caused you had taken its toll. All you wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet for yourself. So, you snuck off to school early and hid out in the RAD council room. It was far too early for anyone to be in there. In fact, the only people you saw on campus were Serun, and a few studious demons on their way to the library – one of which was definitely from one of your classes – perhaps Seductive Speechcraft – because they offered you a familiar wave as you passed in the hall. In the comfortable silence, you picked a seat and tucked yourself into a dim-lit corner.

With one of your textbooks laid out in front of you, you had fully intended to spend the next hour or so reading and studying without any interruption. However, your sleep deprivation and the heaviness of your eyelids had their own demands.

By the time Barbatos wandered into the student council, you had been asleep for well over a half an hour. He was pleased that you weren’t awake to see him jump slightly at the discovery of your body, slumped over the table. No one was supposed to be in there – and certainly not that early. All the lights weren’t even on yet.

Barbatos quickly recognized that you had fallen asleep – in Belphegor’s chair, no less. Although it was a suitable place for you to nap, Barbatos felt a tinge of jealousy, almost wishing he spent less time standing at Diavolo’s side and had his own designated seat that you could have fallen asleep in. He approached you cautiously, hoping to delay waking you up. No one – save for Barbatos himself and your unreliable narrator – would know whether he was able to snap a picture of your sleeping face before the affection swelling in his chest overcame him. Barbatos leaned down to kiss your cheek: the one that wasn’t adorably squished against your arm.

Your brows furrowed as the sensation pulled you out of sleep’s grasp. You groaned before opening your eyes. Barbatos had placed a homemade pastry in a bag, tied up with some spare mint-colored ribbon, in front of you before kissing you. So, as your eyes adjusted, the pastry was the first thing you saw, but a soft chuckle was the first thing you heard.

“Good morning, MC.”

“Barbatos? Did you just kiss me or was that a dream?” Your words were breathy as you tried to wake yourself up from an accidental nap. You straightened your spine and rolled your shoulders back.

“Shall I kiss you now, and you can judge for yourself?”

You scoffed. “You definitely kissed me, and now you’re trying to get a second one, aren’t you?”

“Perceptive as ever,” Barbatos mused. However, your tired face was harder to read than usual, and Barbatos became cautiously somber. “My apologies. In truth, you looked so cute that I found myself unable to resist, so I kissed your cheek to wake you up. Was I too presumptuous?”

If it had been some random demon you didn’t adore, perhaps it would have been an issue, but you figured this didn’t particularly bother you. You had done far worse – or, in this case, better – with Barbatos. Still, you didn’t get the opportunity to catch Barbatos in the wrong, and you wanted to mess with him. With feigned hurt, you replied, “You really are a demon – kissing someone in their sleep like that.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” The words fell out of his mouth quickly, and he searched for an appropriate response to remedy his offense. “I truly believed it would be okay, but I was mistaken. Please, pardon me for taking advantage. It won’t happen again.”

“Hm, well, it was a bit creepy,” you smirked, “but I suppose I could forgive you if you’ll let me have this pastry.”

Barbatos slapped his hand to his face and let out an exasperated sigh. “Were you teasing me just now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you managed between a stifled laugh; the sleep had been completely shaken from you as you smiled and added, “You just seemed so flustered. I like that side of you.”

“I have half a mind to lock you up where those brothers can no longer be a negative influence on you,” he mumbled.

“Unfortunately, I arrived in the Devildom like this,” you corrected him.

“Then perhaps I should lock you up simply because I want to keep you for myself,” Barbatos admitted, absentmindedly – still recovering from your antics. He sighed and quickly redirected the conversation. “Anyway, the pastry is yours.”

“Oh, I was joking. You don’t really have to give me your food.”

“I brought it for you.” Barbatos pet your head before slipping his cool, gloved hand down your cheek and under your chin. “I intended to make you smile by bringing you a treat. I didn’t realize it would be as easy as allowing you to tease me.”

“Aww,” your grin widened. “That’s actually really sweet. Thank you!”

“As long as you’re happy.” Barbatos smiled and slowly pulled his hand away. “Now, I have some paperwork to attend to on behalf of the Young Master. You’re welcome to stick around until your first class begins. You can even go back to sleep, and I’ll wake you up if you’d like.”

“I’m alert now, thanks to you. But could you do something else for me?”

“Name it.”

“Could you kiss me again?”

Barbatos chuckled and bent down until he was close enough for his breath to graze your lips. He held your gaze seductively, but instead of kissing your lips as you had hoped, he moved to the side and kissed the cheek that he had been unable to kiss before. His lips lingered.

“Better?” he whispered in your ear. “You really should ensure that you’re sleeping properly. How else can I keep you up all night without worrying about you?”

Simeon

If it had been anyone other than an angel (or, former angel) – well, maybe not even Raphael and Michael – that had asked you to meet them at the edge of a forest, you would – and should – have assumed that you were going to be murdered and promptly disposed of. However, since it was Simeon who asked, you trusted him to not kill you. (Besides, Simeon could certainly think of somewhere more creative and romantic than a forest, right?)

Still, you might as well check. When you arrived and saw Simeon waiting for you, carrying a crossbody bag, you asked, “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“Heavens no,” Simeon laughed, offering you his arm. “Have you started watching those true crime shows like Solomon and Raphael?”

You took Simeon’s arm and followed him into the forest. “Those two started watching true crime? Together?”

“Yes. I can’t say I don’t understand the grisly appeal, and I’m happy that they’re able to bond over something that doesn’t involve food, but it’s a bit much sometimes.”

“To be fair, Solomon’s cooking and true crime are equally gruesome. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s committed accidental murders with his food.”

“I would laugh if I didn’t agree with you,” Simeon admitted.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry.” You brought your free hand up to your forehead with a thunk. “This was supposed to be a date, and we started it by talking about the potential of Solomon committing manslaughter. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Simeon chuckled and put his hand over your arm. He squeezed you gently, reassuringly. “We are on a date in the Devildom. It’s almost suitable, don’t you think?”

“I guess so, but you never told me why you wanted to meet out here. Did you just want a change of scenery?”

“Sort of. There’s a field of flowers nearby. According to a book I borrowed from Barbatos, these particular flowers are at their peak around this time of year, but most people don’t attempt to find the field because the path is apparently cursed.” You looked at Simeon, incredulous and uncertain about whether you wanted an explanation or not. Simeon laughed sweetly in the face of your concern, which eased some of that worry. “A legend claims that the field of flowers was planted by a demon as an act of love for someone they held very dear. Unfortunately, their loved one brought a lover there – only for that lover to dump them the following day. The former lover returned to the field with a new partner soon after.”

“That’s cruel,” you interjected.

“I know. To make it worse, the loved one who had been dumped was so heartbroken that they fell ill and died. The demon who planted the field was enraged by the betrayal of their loved one and burned the field down. However, upon seeing the destroyed field, the demon regretted their actions. It was as if they had burned down the memory of their deceased loved one. They had destroyed something beautiful. The deceased one was buried in the field. For years, the demon tended to the scorched earth until it was healthy enough to replant. They returned to care for the plants daily until they sprouted. To commemorate their loved one and honor the beauty of the field, the demon put a curse on the land so that only those with true love in their hearts could find it. If your love is true, the path will trace the same steps that the demon took each day to tend to the field. If not, the path will bend and twist, and you may never find your way out of the forest.”

“That’s kind of scary,” you admitted. You weren’t particularly worried, but the legend – if true – put you on edge.

“Precisely. After a few people went missing, many demons stopped coming altogether. The rumors changed over time until they overwrote the narrative of the original story. Most demons believe that the forest itself is haunted. They doubted their love.” Simeon looked at you with a soft smile. “I have no such doubts. See?”

Simeon pointed ahead on the path, and you turned to see patches of a flower field begin to sprout up through gaps between the trees. It wasn’t long before a clearing came into view. The moonlight made the blossoms appear to glow. Small white flowers shimmered like stars while blue and purple ones reflected the night sky’s subtle light. It was beautiful.

Just off the path, there was a blanket and a picnic basket set up. You glanced back at Simeon. “Did you –?”

“I had no doubts that I loved you, so I came here and set this up ahead of time.” His arm slipped from yours so he could caress your face. “I just wanted to see you smile.”

“Thank you so, so much. I’m happy you wanted me to see this. I won’t come here with anyone but you.” You gave Simeon the soft smile he had been craving.

Knowing you were all alone, Simeon took the chance to kiss your cheek. Then, he kissed the other side, lingering longer than the first time. Then, he brought his lips to your forehead, keeping them pressed there as if he was afraid to let you go.

“Uhm, Simeon?” you interrupted his kiss.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away! And I forgot –” Simeon pulled away, flustered, and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a box containing a pair of ceramic teacups with the same flowers in the field painted around the edges of the cup and saucer. “I got you a present too! I got them custom made for us. I thought it would be nice that even when the field goes dormant, you’ll still have a reminder.”

Your heart melted and all you could do was carefully wrap your arms around Simeon and bury your smile against his skin. If the legend was indeed true, Simeon understood what it felt like to create something so beautiful and lovely that only a select few deserved to see it.

(kiss version - Mammon, Satan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Solomon)

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: I cannot explain what happened for these to turn out like this, but yeah. I hope you enjoy. Also, I still have so many requests from Halloween left and I feel like I should stop apologizing for taking months to get to them at this point. Dear lord. So sorry I forgot to add a read more tag the first time I posted this. I am out of it.

[darlingpwease]

It was me! I kidnapped Yuuta, fucked him full, and tied him up! he's not leaving till I get him pregnant >:3c

⌞ 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 ⌝

you were sure that someone as perfect as he was was given to you by fate — and you couldn't afford to miss him, even if someone found your methods... "radical".

CONTENT WARNINGS: unhealthy behaviour (kidnapping), established relationship [?], power imbalance, pet names, begging + drooling + crying, heavy talk about pregnancy & family-making, mind break [yuuta]

dubious consent (dubcon), somnophilia, sex marathon, heavy petting, unprotected sex / heavy breeding, dirty talk + possessive talk, belly bulge + deep penetration (cervix fucking), treatment (biting, mild choking g.), praise (g., r.), multiple orgasms (g.), hyperstimulation (g.), bondage (g., tied hands), forced orgasms (g.), fingering (g.), cum inflation (g.), mild degradation (g.), worshipping (r.)

WRITING STYLE: drabble (interlude + main chapter), ±3000 words; referencing yuuta's genitals as a 'hole', 'labia' / 'lips', 'womb', 'juice' / 'cum'

DARLINGS: yuuta okkotsu x reader; dom!reader, top!reader, dark!reader, dark!yuuta okkotsu

note: meanie,,, meanie!!! bring malewife back!!!!!</3333

Even despite power and usefulness, even despite tender maturity and loving gentleness, even despite external coldness and 'coolness' — Yuuta was still the same shy, timid sweetheart, looking at you with adoring doe eyes, catching your every glance, willingly following you anywhere, but blushing when you expose "too much" skin, especially if you touch him, forcing him to hide in a corner just to not look quite pathetically desperate. It doesn't matter how long you've been together, but it always seemed as if he would never be able to take you calmly, even if you one day start dating like normal persons, instead of awkward courtship and emotionally affecting games in which there are never winners, even if his sad puppy-dog eyes always make you wonder when is the right moment to ask him.

You didn't consider yourself particularly timid, especially when he tried so hard to show the green light, practically jumping into your hands, breathlessly offering you beautiful things as some kind of gifts to the deity, following you like your shadow, trying to snuggle up to you and asking if you have a type with a face so hot that you were worried for the first time, was there still embarrassment or is it already a fever; damn it, Yuuta gets up early in the morning to cook food for you, always brings you drinks, shivers slightly when touches your skin and always insists on using reverse technique so that you are safe and he knows that everything is fine with you; he calls you to ask you to meet him at the airport, makes sure that it is a convenient time for you during calls, regularly writes to you and sends photos, remembers all possible and impossible things about you, including the most insignificant, but whenever it seemed to you that now, it's time, the right time has come,

Yuuta ran away.

Sometimes metaphorically, sometimes literally, if you were too intimate and aware of this intimacy, letting him know what you want to talk about when press him into a corner, no longer reacting to his unconscious attempts to become even smaller than you — he immediately tries to hide, like a rabbit in front of a fox, regardless of whether it was really a "corner for negotiations" or a gentle purr about the need to discuss something important. If you were a little less knowledgeable, you'd think he's just not interested in relationships, but whenever Yuuta mentions his type (whose description surprisingly resembles you), or that he thought about starting a family "with someone strong enough and ready for such a step", or that he 'would like to stay with you forever if it means that you will never be apart', — you can't get rid of the obsessive feeling that he is trying to say something by playing hot-and-cold, but you might as well have turned to Gojo for love advice to understand why your beloved behaves like a clingy puppy to immediately start avoiding and hiding when you try to check.

Because, you are sure, one eccentric man definitely understands an equally eccentric guy who will eat from your hands and let you do whatever you want with him, following you into fire and water, allowing you to manage him and his fate on your own, but once you offer him a confession — and he is no longer here, as if you were a leper or crazy, seeing something shameful dirty in these innocent things. It will be wrong if he gets naked in front of you or sees your underwear, but if it's others, then it's absolutely fine; hey, if someone needs help, he will always help, he likes to help and be helpful, even if it's something creepy and strange like "please, let's exchange festival t-shirts, I like your... design... more," because Yuuta doesn't care about such details and he's 'not so shy to worry about his half-naked body' — as long as you're not looking, of course.

If someone bothers you, they should be driven away or scared away, but don't get him wrong, there's nothing strange about that — people can't be completely trusted, they want to scare you or take you away, but Yuuta won't let them, keeping you as the most precious thing he has, like a dragon pining over gold, and if he's not careful, someone will steal you, or even kidnap.

... He is being dramatic? He's not, he's not dramatic, and he's not possessive, and he's not fixated, and he's not weird, and he's not creepy, and he's absolutely not crazy about you at all — this is, this is security, and even if you're strong, even if you're potentially stronger than him, you have to be safe and hidden, do you understand? Next to him, letting him wrap around your arm, seeing everyone who is trying to get close to you, knowing that only he will always stay by your side while others will come and go. You're his, and he's yours, — but it's, it's not weird, and it's not wrong, and he's, he's keeping himself under control, do you see? He is safe, he is normal, he is absolutely adequate and he will be anyone, if that means he will be with you, no matter what he wants, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

DON'TLEAVEHIM

He's going to be a good boy.

The best boy.

The most obedient, gentle, harmless, innocent, weak, affectionate, patient, quiet, unpretentious,

the goodest boy.

He won't be demanding, he won't be stupid, he won't be needy or clingy, he will be the one you dreamed of, anyone you dreamed of, and will do whatever you want; maybe, maybe Rika taught him a thing or two, and maybe he himself has learned more a few, but he will be the very very very most most most most most

Your touches are like a burning flame,

almost illuminating everything in the semi-darkness of the room,

even when they are so weightless, almost sliding over his fabric while you hide face in his shoulder, thoughtfully stroking him, as if not paying attention to his ruddy face, which quickly becomes nervous from the realization that you are too thoughtful today. It's not that you've never been thoughtful, but you've never been so absorbed, as if trying to make a choice while playing with the clothes, easing the internal tension. For a moment he wants to ask if he is the cause of your current mood, but instead he starts breathing shorter so as not to disturb you, feeling breath on his neck, but not understanding whether he should stop you or watch where it leads, even if your fingers slide to the button — but makes a decision when covers it with palm when your fingers touch.

Yuuta can't help but tense up, feeling that the atmosphere is becoming more oppressive, but when you take your hand away, he hurriedly presses it back, looking at you with a complex expression, not letting you unbutton it, but also preventing you from leaving, feeling an unpleasant disgusting tangle in heart. It's not like he's playing with you, right? He's sincere, he wouldn't mind you unbuttoning his jacket and everything right now, but you, well, you can't. Not now. Not in the near future. He needs to deal with, uh, this first, and... only then you can do whatever you want.

You could hug after that, or even kiss, if you let him; maybe you would stop at holding hands, not wanting to move on, or, well, let him sleep with you not only "just in the same bed", but also sleep like not sleeping, but awake all night night, being alone and not turning on the light. Maybe you would like to call this relationship something like "dating", or "engagement", or "friends with benefits", or "marriage". Maybe you would like to live together and put things together like some kind of... family.

Maybe.

“Ah?! I— I don't— I don't know... I mean— I don't have anyone right now who would be willing to start a family with me, but if someone wanted to, then I would.”

“Pregnancy and children is a little... too much, and I do not know if I can be a parent, but if anything, then I... would like a baby if my spouse wanted to.”

“I am, I am ready to become a good parent — I can become a good parent, and for the sake of our child I will be as good as possible!.. "Our child", I mean, mine and my spouse's... yes... Just so it doesn't sound weird... Not in the sense that the thought of 'our child" sounded wrong, just... Oh.”

“No, no, it's okay, I trust you! You always do everything just for me; I know you care about me. I care about you too, I would like to always help you and be there for you if that's what you would like too.”

“Even if you give me poison, as long as it's from your hands, I'll willingly eat it...”

“... mhm...”

Yuuta is soft, sweet — both outside and inside; especially when his face is so rosy, with trembling eyelashes, breathing heavily when your hands touch his delicate skin, shaking even from the feeling of your breath on it; even if he is almost always cold, freezing, needing a lot of clothes so that his thin long fingers are not comparable to ice, inside he is hot and wet, so sticky that you are not sure that you can pull fingers out of him when gently push them, letting the juice leak due to the incessant trembling from another orgasm. His clit throbs as you continue to rub it, stretching his tight hole, taking care that the juice and lube inside make him perfect for later — you haven't even started yet, this is just preparation, even if you feel like you're starting to go crazy, wanting to fuck his slutty needy hole and stuff it so that his stomach will become full with you, impregnated by you, until the only thing Yuuta can think about is you and how soon you will make him bred again.

His body is beautiful, delicious, perfect, with wet soft thighs, on which red lines appear when you squeeze them, and the pretty gentle face, so serene that you can't help but want to kiss him — especially when he whines softly, as if restraining himself, while you touch, rub, squeeze, intoxicated realizing that if Yuuta were conscious, he would blush even more, looking with shiny wet eyes at how you push fingers into his greedy hole, forcing it to make even more squelching sounds, so loud that even his breathing and moans when you touch his clit, so red and swollen from hyperstimulation, cannot drown them out. Inside, Yuuta is slippery, wet, so hot and so messy that you probably didn't even need lube when his juice flows through your fingers again, mixed with his cum, flowing out again and again to ease your thrusts, needing to squeeze everything out of you and make sure you cum right in his womb, stuffing and filling to the brim when his body is ready for breeding.

His ovulation is in three days, — not so long to wait, — but you know that even so, if you cum inside today, filling up until your cum starts to flow out of him just from the fact that you lightly press on his soft belly, then Yuuta will surely get pregnant with you, with your baby, who will mature in his needy womb. The higher the amount of cursed energy in the body, the lower the fertility, especially for sorcerers, especially for the likes of you and him, but you have more than enough time to make sure that sooner or later Yuuta will become the parent of your baby, even if you have to fuck him every day and night until his body becomes addicted from you, whining loudly like an animal in need every time you thrust into his pliable hole, drooling while you bite his skin, arching backs so that it's easier to hold on to his hips, longing only for you to fuck him senseless, no matter whether you make him throw his legs over your shoulders, put him on all fours, let him lean on a tree — it doesn't matter as long as he is full of you as deeply as ever.

When Yuuta pulsates again on your fingers, squeezing, pushing his thighs apart to take deeper, letting the juice flow even faster down your palm and thick labia, you know that he has cummed again, but you don't stop, continuing to stroke his trembling hypersensitive body, ignoring even the way he whimpers, as if he is about to finally wake up and look at all the mess he has made, seeing how many times he shamelessly cummed on fingers while you were playing with him, treating his body like your toy, tying his hands tightly enough to easily be able to bend him into a mating press or make him to ride you, easily serving you to the wet sounds of his leaking juice, soaked his thighs and labia, taking you all the way, — and understanding what you will do next when you leave hands on his hips, not letting him get out,

as if he would let you.

Yuuta has never felt so painful, so wet, so stretched and so hot when his body is so painfully empty, even though Yuuta feels himself being gently squeezed — but this caress only makes eyes water from too many sensations, drooling from itchy emptiness and being crushed by sensations, not understanding what is happening to him besides how painfully sensitive his clit is, that even careful rubbing makes him whine, wanting to pull knees to his chest if his thighs weren't so soft and trembling, being able to only awkwardly squeeze someone's body between in an attempt to stop them, but even when his glazed eyes look at you, you can't help but feel elated, knowing what will happen next, unlike him, vaguely whining something because of confused mind, realizing that you are in front of him, but being unable to understand what is happening; even when his legs are on your shoulders, while Yuuta feels even more empty inside, feeling his hole throbbing with the need to continue, and the fact that this need only further clouds his mind, vaguely realizing that you want to 'do something' and no longer trying to stop, only warms you up more.

His eyes are wet, shiny when you reach for a kiss, squeezing his thighs with hands, gently asking if he is ready for you, you are about to breed him, and you want him to watch this; after all, this is your first time, even if you definitely spend a lot of time together in the future, especially if his womb is reluctant, — and Yuuta only looks at you with glassy eyes, breathing heavily, definitely realizing what is happening and why he is in such a position, but being unsure whether he should say "stop" or let you fill his hole prepared by you, letting you make your baby inside of him, which will bind you to each other forever,

just like he wanted,

because of which you will have no choice but to choose him and stay with him, having more and more children, making him your husband and part of your family,

AS YOU ARE OBLIGED TO

you chose that, right?

you have to take him with you and make him yours

just like you are hugging him in your arms now, hearing hot breath, feeling how his hole is about to take you inside and up to the womb, which you have to fill until the calendar on phone informs you that 'period delay is too long', his pregnancy has surely come while he is whining from another orgasm.

“I'm, of course I'm ready!.. I— I want your baby; I need you to do... it... inside. In my... w-womb and, like, in my... in me — until I'm yours.”

The velvet walls of Yuuta envelop you when you fill with one push, ignoring how he almost suffocates, instantly feeling so full that his not yet restored mind is crushed again, obeying the need to be fucked until his hole starts to hurt, even if it means losing consciousness from how sensitive his swollen clit is, responsive even to light contact with your skin, which is why he squeezes you tighter, wanting to force you to stay inside and move at the same time until he begins to suffocate from the intensity, hiding his head in your shoulder or in a pillow — it doesn't matter as long as you fuck him without a break, encouraging to humiliatingly cum even if Yuuta doesn't want to anymore, but can't fight with himself, crying with sick delight, forcing him to squirm under you and awkwardly move hips towards you.

Your second push is rougher, deeper, to such an extent that he can feel his stomach filling up with you, even if his uterus seemed too far away before — he can't help but realize with unhealthy delight that you can certainly reach it and rest against it, especially if he tries to throw his knees just a little higher on your shoulders, helping in breeding only by the fact that his soft pliable hole will give you more delicious friction, making you want to get as deep as possible into his slutty hole and cum, as if if you don't do it, then you will die, being unable to even make him scream from fucking senseless, until he's only able to keep his mouth open to grab air. His face is wet, hot, red, looking at you with delight, trying to kiss with whimpering, then at how you drive into him with a squelching sound, breeding his hole, squeezing only so that you stretch him again, ignoring even his inarticulate pleas for 'more' and 'deeper', 'cum inside', 'make me a baby'.

When Yuuta can't do it anymore, rolling eyes pitifully, feeling how his body, exhausted due to orgasms, can only greedily obediently accept everything you give, letting you do whatever you want — squeezing and biting, kissing, licking while he is vaguely realize that you are already close, ready to stuff womb, kneading his hot sensitive body, reacting even when everything before his eyes is floating, being unable to cling to anything other than the thought that you are about to cum inside, perhaps to the point that everything will flow out of him, considering how tight and easily squeezing he is, as soon as you leave his hole for a while, making him feel lonely, whining until you continue; teasing him, pushing the tip only to hear his whimpering and complaints mixed with pleas, enthusiastically shouting your name and how good he is, how good you are, how his whole body feels great while you hold him so close, needy kissing to drown out the flow of praise and adoration, soon becoming many times more intense and unstable with pleas to leave him filled with you forever, never make him be lonely and empty, he can't live without what you gave him today, he can't live without you, please please please please,

“Please please please please please please—”

make him think only about you,

which are interrupted when Yuuta becomes hoarse in his voice, enthusiastically realizing that you are cumming inside him, hugging tightly to you, so warmly and intimately, so close that his heart can't help but flutter, feeling your smell and the way your heart beats while his womb is gradually filling up, more and more, until everything it doesn't start to flow out of him — just so that you don't stop kissing him, ignoring even whiny sighs about when his skin is soaked with your cum.

... When you carefully slip out, Yuuta is almost close to a disappointed moan, if there were at least a little strength in his body, but he can only relax like a rag doll, letting you snuggle as you feel comfortable, carefully pushing the leaking sperm inside — and almost immediately pushing inside stretched hole, taking care of so that nothing leaks out until you wake up to breed him again, wetly kissing his hot face; Yuuta tries to respond in kind, but instead his body responds with sweet pain, which he first wants to cure, but then allows himself to relax, letting you instead hug and hold tightly to you, whispering how good Yuuta is, so obedient, it won't take long to make him pregnant, and these the words respond with warmth in his chest, hearing that you really plan to create a family with him, even if he is like that.

But one more kiss makes him forget about it, vaguely realizing that his hands are still tied — not that it would be a problem for him to untie them,

but instead he obeys, settling comfortably for sleep when your arms are wrapped around his waist. After all, he can always talk to you about it later; after all,

you now have all the time in the world.

[pinkdick79]

love; derek hale x reader

back to masterlist

pairing: derek hale x reader (she/her)

warnings: none

prompt: 5. “he loves you, you know? he’s just afraid of admitting it.”

summary: in which the reader and derek are oblivious to liking eachother and it’s painful for everyone to watch.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

derek hale is called many things - sour wolf, the mean alpha, power hungry, and selfish. but turns out, he’s not any of those things. well, maybe a bit power hungry but he got past that.

derek has always been nothing but nice to you. always been courteous and sweet whenever you’re around, never mean or selfish like stiles or scott says he is.

the first time you met derek was when peter resurrected himself by using lydia. you were out for a walk when came across the hale house. you’ve heard tales about it and decided to go inside, little did you know that would be the start of your friendship with the one and only, derek hale.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

right now, you’re sitting in derek’s loft waiting to have a mandatory pack meeting that scott called. you’re with lydia, peter, stiles, issac, allison, erica, and boyd.

“what do you think this is about?” lydia asks.

“no idea. but it’s probably pretty importing seeing as though it’s seven in the morning.” stiles says, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket that was previously sitting on the back of derek’s couch.

“it’s more than likely about the kanima issue we’re currently having.” issac matter-of-factly says. he’s always been a straight to the point type of guy, kind of like derek.

“where are derek and scott? they called this meeting and yet they aren’t even here.” you speak out to nobody in particular.

“they’re probably getting snacks or something. they know how the betas get in the morning and during meetings without some form of food consumption.” peter replies to you with a small smirk at your mention of derek.

everyone knows of your crush on derek. and of derek’s crush on you. yet, neither of you two act on it. the pack is getting tired of the small glances and touches you guys share and not putting a label on whatever you guys have going on.

it’s obvious to anyone looking at you both that there is something going on, except the two of you.

“well, well. would you look who decided to show up.” you break out of your thoughts and look up and see scott and derek. heart fastening a little at the sight of him.

“oh, would you be quiet? you know how everyone gets without food during these meetings. you should be thanking us.” scott says, setting the food down on the coffee table and taking a seat by allison.

derek sits down next to you on the couch, putting his arm around the back of you. admittedly, it makes you blush a little bit. but you can’t let him know that so you try to avoid eye contact with him. obviously it didn’t work.

derek looks at you confused because you never purposely turn away from him. he looks down at you, “hey, you good? these guys didn’t bother you that much did they?”

“uh no no it’s fine. it’s just a little warm in here, you know?” you try to hide your face with embarrassment while talking to him.

“oh, okay. do you want me to turn the heat down or anything?” he asks you.

“no, it’s fine.” you say.

“okay.” he drops the subject and goes to listening in on scott telling the pack about what needs to happen with the kanima issue.

you look up at him, admiring all his features. his eye, his hair, his body. holy shit. you can’t help but think, he’s really pretty. i guess he noticed you staring at him because he looks down at you mid stare.

“what are you looking at?” he questions.

“nothing, nothing at all.” you say with a little smile while turning away and focusing on what scott is saying. roles reversed now.

this time, derek is staring at you while you listen to scott speak. man, she’s so pretty. he thinks to himself. i wish i could just tell her how i feel without putting her in danger.

“hey y/n? can i talk to you a second?” lydia asks, “in private?”

“yeah, sure.” you say.

she gets up and you follow in tow. she leads you up the stairs of the loft, up into derek’s bedroom.

his room his neat. bed made and well put together. you could’ve guessed that it would’ve been considering how much of a neat freak derek is.

“y/n.” lydia speaks.

“what? what’s wrong, lyds?” you question her.

“you and derek keep looking at each other like your in love. when are you gunna to confess to him that you’ve liked him for the past two years?”

“what?! one, derek definitely doesn’t like me like that, we’re just friends. and two, we aren’t looking at each other like we love each other.” you try explaining, lying out of your ass.

“bullshit. he loves you, you know? he’s just too afraid to admit it. he just doesn’t want you wrapped up in all his issues and getting you in danger or hurt.” lydia says.

“i don’t know, lyds. there’s no way he could like me. i mean, we’ve been friends for almost three years and he hasn’t once shown an interest in me.”

lydia leads you to the bed, sitting you down on it and her sitting right next to you.

“i think you need to ask him how he feels, ‘cause i can tell you right now that the whole pack is getting tired of you guys making googly eyes at each other and acting like you’re in love.” she’s definitely speaking facts. ever since about a year ago, you and derek’s relationship has been different, more flirty but not enough for you to notice a drastic change.

“fine. i’ll ask him after the pack meeting, but if he doesn’t feel the same way i’m not coming to another meeting for like, four months.” you say.

“you’re being dramatic, y/n.”

“nope. i’m serious, id be too embarrassed coming back.” you explain, smiling cheekily.

“you promise to ask him after the meeting then? because i can swear to you that he feels the same way.” lydia says.

“yes lyds, i promise.”

“perfect. then let’s go back down there.” she gets up and starts walking back down to the main floor with you in tow right behind her.

you guys make your way back to the pack and you sit back down by derek. except this time when you look up at him, he’s smirking back down at you.

“what are you smirking at, huh?” you ask him with a slight smile on your face.

he leans down to whisper in your ear so only you can hear what he’s saying, “oh nothing, just that i think you and lydia forgot that i could hear every word that you guys just said.”

oh shit

“whattt… i uh, don’t know what you’re talking about, der.” you try to play it off. acting like your heart rate isn’t beating a thousand miles per hour right now.

“don’t worry, love. i think we have something to talk about after the meeting though.” he says, and then bringing his head back up and focusing on the meeting once more, not giving you time to respond.

the remainder of the meeting seems like it’s forever, when in reality it was probably only twenty minutes at most. at the end, everyone gets up to leave and when you try to, derek grabs your wrist bringing you back down beside him. “i don’t think so, love. we need to talk.”

der, i really don’t think we should. i already know you don’t feel the same way i feel. so what’s the point in even talking about it?” you say.

“who said i don’t feel the same?” he says with a smirk on his face.

“what’s that suppose to mean?”

“it means that i like you too, dumbass. in fact, i am in love with you. i didn’t want to tell you because with us being together it would put you in danger.” he confesses.

“derek..” you start.

“with everything going on, you’re always there for me and i don’t know what i would do without you. if something were to happen i couldn’t live with myself. you’re perfect. you’re funny, smart, beauti-“ you cut him off.

you kiss him.

you couldn’t take him rambling and rambling about how much he wanted you but couldn’t have you. you’re fine with being in danger as long as your with him.

your guys’ mouths mold perfectly in sync. this is even better than i thought it would be. you think to yourself.

eventually, you pull away. gasping for breath and looking at derek. he looks happy, ecstatic even. you’ve never seen him smile this big before.

“derek.”

“yes, love?”

“i don’t care if i am in danger in order to be with you. i want to be with you no matter what is happening in our lives.” you say.

“then i promise to keep you safe, no matter the circumstances.” he says.

“so what does this mean then? like, us?” you ask.

“i guess this means i finally get to take you out.” he pronounces, goofy smile on his face.

“about time.”

[silent-browser]

*sigh* oh the tragic romance of a merfolk x human story. Neither can be with the other without giving up something important. Usually fins for legs. Also usually their entire family to simply love and exist with this person in a different biosphere. Rarely legs for fins if we wanna go a reverse little mermaid here.

But what if it was different. And no one had to give everything up. And maybe yandere. With a bit of soulmate shenanigans thrown in for flavor.

Imagine if you will, a walk on an empty beach. Headphones in, listening to your favorite song and sining along. Kicking up sand and the smell of the ocean air. Just minding your own business and having a good time by yourself.

Or so you think. Because not far from where you are walking a single quiet audience member hides behind some rocks, wondering why your song, your human song, sounds so similar to their soul song.

The song that they would normally perform for other merfolk in hopes of attracting their perfect life partner. But they had never garnered any attention for it.

So how did you, a weak and squishy human get them so immediately. No creature had ever been so close to repeating his own soul song back to him. And with your own little twist too. Human words and slightly different notes in his soul song. Your song. Our song. He soon found himself refering to it in his mind.

It takes a while of them impatiently waiting for your return and slowly learning your 'walks on the beach' schedule for them to finally make their move.

On the day that changed the rest of your life, you were simply walking along and humming softly to your favorite song once again when you heard the most fantastic voice start to follow along the melody with you. They matched your tone and moved their voice in such a way that it felt like an instant musical connection.

They were worried that you would stop and run away when they started but tried not to let that fear taint their song. If you ran further inland they would have a very hard time following you. Not impossible but certainly difficult. So they took your continued humming as a good sign and continued.

They began to dribble their emotions into the notes. The lonelyness. The fear of an uncaring ocean. The rush of affection they felt when they first heard you singing. The need to see you. Hold you.

Slowly, what started out as a dribble became a riptide of intense emotions they never knew they were capable of feeling. Longing. Jealousy. Want and need so powerful he felt like he would wear out his voice singing it all. By the time he stopped he was mortified that he put all of that on you. And before the first courting gift too! He suddenly felt awful. He gutted his soul when he never ment to and you weren't even singing anymore. What if you didn't want them? What if it was all too much for you? What if you left and never came back!?

You were stunned. Breathless. The emotion. The raw intensity. No words were ever sang and yet the song resonated in the very depths of your being. You felt intimidated to ever even think of humming ever again after that impromptu masterpiece. You wanted to respond but couldn't find the words to, much less the notes like they had. So you instead made your way to the shore where the music seemed to come from and searched. Looking for this person who simultaneously swept you off your feet and explained their life story in one song with no words.

Two star crossed lovers. Separated by the sea. One filled with obsession. The other with curiousity. Both wish desperately to meet and yet both are not quite ready. How strange that love can both bind and seperate. How strange indeed.

Idk where to go with this so no continuations for this one unless I suddenly get inspired. Also the end feels really jarring to me. Mostly because I originally intended for this to continue but I couldn't come up with anything so I just cut it lose. I hope you like it none the less.

[valen-nidk]

Bugambilia. | One-sided Eve!Reader x Lucifer.

Content: Hurt no comfort. Low self-steem Eve!Reader, mentions of Lilith and Adam, lingering feelings, longing Eve!Reader.

Eve!Reader and Lucifer reuniting in Hell after years of Eve!Reader hiding, generosity of the extermination that had forced them to come out from hiding.

But it's not a warm welcome or even a meeting that either of them was looking forward to — Eve!Reader who has hiding their face behind a mask, quite similar to that LED one that Adam wore. Their posture stiff, even defensive with wings expressing their discomfort.

Lucifer who awkwardly rubbed his arm at the sight of someone's spouse that he stole out of pettiness? To prove a point? He didn't love Eve as stealing her, erh, them away from Adam had been a power move to one up the first man, and... well, he wasn't sure they were Eve anymore. The consequences of his own actions that he hadn't thought throughly before acting on them.

"You uh, you look great, Eve!", the King of Hell itself was not one with social skills, it seemed. Partially amused, partially disgusted and beyond pissed off at his words, (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes had shifted to red demonic ones the iris turning into a slit akin to a snake's reptile eyes.

"Don't call me that", a sharp glare at his direction, their voice having dropped a few notes lower as a clear signal of disgust at being referred with their deadname before shutting their eyes, taking a deep breathe and composing themselves. "And thanks, I guess. The trauma helped with the style", a low-blow to their own self-steem but it was worth it, at least for (Y/N) since they got to see Lucifer flinch at the memory, guilt crawling his skin and he was clearly uncomfortable — though their eyes stared up and down at the powerful figure before them.

A pained smile curved their lips as their previously venomous glare had softened into a recluctant loving one, approaching the same-height demon, though for (Y/N)... Lucifer was still quite a beautiful angel, even if he had fallen from grace — ever so mesmerizing, so awkward and adorable. So beautifully and undeniably human. "Now you... You look as beautiful as the last time I saw you back in Eden", Lucifer was visibly shaken at that, flustered at such unexpected compliment. It seemed like he didn't get those often, or perhaps, he was uneasy that it was them who complimented him.

It woudn't be weird, moreso because Lucifer had basically ghosted them after making Adam and Eve get kicked out of Eden. Lilith was and... still is, more important for him. For both Adam and Lucifer while (Y/N) was blending with the background.

Ah, God was cruel with them.

"I... thanks uh, so... Hell! What brings you to Hell? No actually, don't answer that— fuck, stupid...", he trailed off, hitting his forehead with his hand. Somehow, that awkwardness and lack of social awareness was adorable, making (Y/N) chuckle softly. In the past, it had been them the ones who'd be stuttering unable to come up with something witty to say while Lucifer waited with a patient smile curving his lips. Oh, how the roles had reversed.

"I have been here ever since I died, you know how He had never favoured me. It was only Adam this, Lucifer that... Lilith...", her name was enough to make Lucifer bit his lower lip and look away. Ah, so that was it... He still loved her.

You were never important, Eve.

"I had been wandering Hell with no place to call home", they bit their tongue to stop themselves from saying anything unnecessary, like deals they had made and souls they owned. A wanderer yet a powerful one. "I didn't think I'd cross paths with you". Not now, nor ever. "What about you..? I thought you became an hermit".

"Haha well ah, stuff happened and I have been helping my daughter rebuilt her hotel and — right, have you heard of my daughter? Surely, you must have! She has this idea and...", he rambled, his facade softening and his smile seemed genuine as he used some of his magic to make a projection, a drawing in the air of what Charlie had planned. He spoke, they listened in an absent manner as their gaze lingered elsewhere.

At the distance, (e/c) eyes widened slightly at the sight of the Princess of Hell. Not like Lucifer could have noticed due to the mask they wore. Charlie was just like her father, almost not a single trace of Lilith herself. The realization was a bit funny, truly, how their children seemingly took after themselves: Cain had looked like them but Abel was a mixture of Adam and themselves. Mostly Adam.

"She has your eyes, full of hopes and dreams", (Y/N) said in a soft spoken tone, making Lucifer cease his talk and look at them with shock. "I wonder how either of my boys are...", they trailed off, unable to finish that thought and Lucifer didn't ask or press for more.

Clearing his throat to break that heavy silence and awkward atmosphere, Lucifer looked at them with a certain understanding feeling. "If you have nowhere to go, ah...".

"(Y/N)".

"Lovely name. As I was saying, (Y/N), if you have nowhere to go then... My daughter's hotel will welcome you".

"Mm, that's assuming she'll let me in. And... I appreciate the offer, I'll consider it".

"Yeah so uh, I'll...", pointing behind himself at the hotel, Lucifer averted his gaze as he tried to come up with something to say, to bid his farewell.

(E/c) eyes observed the fallen angel standing before them, shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly wanting to escape this situation as gentlemanly as possible. "You were never good with goodbyes, go now, I'm sure your daughter does miss you".

Without any more to say, or any delay. He left and (Y/N) stood there, watching Lucifer leave them once again without even bothering to look back.

Though their sadness was shortlived, a static noise in the background being an annoyance, causing (Y/N) to frown and shut their eyes, right hand raising to rub their temple as they turned on their heels. "Yes, yes... I'll leave now".

[spacebarbarianweird]

Mute!Tav Headcanons

This idea has lingered in my thoughts for quite some time. I've come to realize that typical health challenges in the D&D world can often find solutions. Suppose Tav loses their ability to speak, hear, or see due to natural causes. There might be ways to address and overcome those issues in that case. However, what if Tav's affliction stemmed from a curse?

Imagine Tav and Astarion find the cloak of Dragomir. The cloak that allows a vampire to walk in the sun, to cross the running water, and enter houses uninvited? But to get it, there is a price to pay - something equally valuable for the person.

And it's Tav's voice.

No cure, no reverse. You can't return the cloak and get the voice back. Just muteness and the cloak for Astarion to wear

@micropoe10 @glasswatergirl

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is absolutely heartbroken.

The thing he has wished to obtain appears to be a cruel joke just like any magical object.

It takes you time to adjust to the new condition.

At first, you are happy it isn't something more severe like deafness and blindness.

But soon, you realize how vital speech is.

You can't speak to the people you meet.

You can't talk to the quest givers.

You can't simply say what you want and need, and even writing skills are little help since most people in Faerun are illiterate.

When you realize it, you silently cry, pressing your knees against the chest.

Now, you have the same sorrow Astarion does. Something important is taken away forever, and it can't be compensated.

You cry for hours till Astarion wakes up from his trance and sees you shivering and trembling.

He immediately sits beside you, letting you cry on his shoulder.

Astarion says every affectionate word he can think of.

He says how much he loves you and that he will never abandon you.

But you can see desperation and guilt in his crimson eyes because your condition is his fault.

He could have just accepted his fate as a creature of the night, but no! He wanted to walk in the sunlight!

Astarion misses your voice.

He misses your laughter, bickering, and words of love, which were able to drag him from the darkest void of his tortured mind.

He misses your moanings and whimpers. 

Nights of passion are almost silent.

What is worse, you can't cry for help if something happens, and Astarion becomes overprotective, never letting you out of his sight.

You can't say the incantations anymore.

If you are a warrior or a barbarian, it's not that bad.

But if your life depends on magic, it's as bad as you can imagine.

Astarion isn't always comfortable with you touching him, but well, he has no choice anymore.

The only way to communicate is by touching. Grabbing his hand, patting a shoulder.

He learns how to lip-read, and you master the skill of quick writing.

Plus, you have to work out how to communicate when having sex.

How do you get Astarion's attention if he dissociates again? How do you tell him that he is being too rude to you and you want him to stop?

Sometimes, it turns physical, where you punch him in the stomach to get him to stop for you or his benefit.

You become very affectionate and always stay close to him when traveling.

Eventually, Astarion stops hating the cloak that has caused so much grief and decides to make the most of it.

You travel. A lot. In the sunlight, fearing nothing and no one.

But sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night to Astarion holding you tightly to his undead heart and whispering: "I wish this had never happened to you."

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive

[asksythe]

MXTX Interview with Risa Wataya for Subaru Magazine P.5

Character's Allure

Risa: Among the cast, my favorites are the Nie brothers. Nie Huaissang and Nie Mingjue. As I read, I constantly prayed that Nie Shi (House Nie) would not fall. 

Mo Xiang: Shocking! I have yet to see this kind of attitude toward the Nie brothers. In the place of Nie brothers, I deeply thank Risa! Nie Mingjue was created as a foil and reversed mirror image of the 'extremely socially adept' Jin Guangyao. Nie Mingjue is someone who would rather break but never bend. Jin Guangyao is someone who would rather bend but never break. One embodies unbendable justice. One is a cunning smooth operator. I thought about these two contrasting and contradicting kinds of characters and then created them (Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao). A cunning faker (*) like Jin Guangyao, once he meets a 'violent god' (**) Nie Mingjue would become absolutely powerless and can only flee. Their situation would be quite interesting should I continue to write it. Although for them, it definitely would not be a fun time. 

(*: 狡猾 jiaohua: someone who is pretty/righteous on the outside but rotten inside, a faker, a pretty snake masquerading as a saint) 

(**: 凶神恶煞 xioengshen esha: a powerful, brutal, violent god that is consumed by the slaying of evil so much he starts to do evil himself. Someone who should be good but is consumed by rage and violence and becomes no better than the evil he seeks to destroy)

Risa: Nie Huaissang is extremely smart. Nie Mingjue still acts even though his body has been split into multiple pieces. I absolutely love these brothers' opposing approaches to life. 

Moxiang: The more the character personalities contrast with each other, the clearer their conflict and transformation is portrayed. It also makes the story even more compelling and exciting. Nie Huaissang was built on the foundation of Nie Mingjue as a character. They both use sabers as their weapons. Nie Mingjue is more or less straightforward inside and out. Nie Huaissang, on the other hand, looks weak and cowardly on the outside but is actually immensely insightful, patient, and crafty on the inside. The characters of Qinghe Nie Shi were actually complete quite early into the writing. 

Risa: The characters of "Mo Dao Zu Shi" mature into different kinds of people depending on their relationship with their parents. In terms of lineage and family ties, what were your thoughts while writing? 

Moxiang: I think the environment a person grows up in is a very important factor. The parent generation's joy and sorrow will create an increasingly greater impact on their children. Furthermore, children will inherit specific things from their parents. Only when you look at the profound yet incidental similarities between parents and children, you will see that family ties are something very real. 

Risa: Some characters in the book had a very difficult childhood. Jin Guangyao, Xue Yang, and Wei Wuxian. One type of character experiences misfortune in their childhood and then grow to become bad people. One character, on the other hand, steadfastly holds onto his good heart no matter what. Both types exist in the same book. 

Moxiang: To be honest, the character's childhood was the last thing I considered. My creative method starts with imagining the zenith of a character's life when they are shining brightly at the summit. Then I think about narrative developments leading to and from that moment, and then the character's childhood as the finishing touch. After that, I fill out details on their parent generation. The parents mostly act as supporting characters. Their designs are based on the main cast, to contrast or to complete. 

For example, first, I think of what kind of person Wei Wuxian is. Then, I think of what kind of parents could have such a child. I base his parent's characters on his character. 

Looking at it from within the story, it's that parents will inevitably influence their children. But from a structural writing standpoint, it's the children that influence the parents.        

To be continued (We are about... half-way through the interview transcript)

Translator: Sythe / NPD Khanh

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is.