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chuluoyi · 9 months

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MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

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joonie-beanie · 2 months

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Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh.

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?”

Now that piques their interest.

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her.

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend.

4 days, to be exact.

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job.

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file.

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck.

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning.

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen.

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet.

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again.

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest.

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers.

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak.

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them.

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.”

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel.

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace.

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself.

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace.

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum.

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his.

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty.

You’re getting close.

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it.

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words.

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you.

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving.

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit.

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again.

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine.

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago.

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo.

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck.

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot.

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last.

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath.

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him.

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep!

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #bean fic #genshin fanfic

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buckyalpine · 9 months

Text

40's baby Bucky & baby Reader, Present Bucky x Reader, all the flufff, a lil angst but it just adds to the fluff, promise

Bucky sat under the tree with a very prominent pout on his chubby face, his arms crossed against his chest with his brows pulled together. He wasn't happy. Not one bit. Not after his favorite ball was kicked over a fence by the other neighborhood boys.

"Bucky, do you want to play with me?" You toddled over to your best friend hoping to lift his spirits after seeing him so grumpy only to be met with a huff.

"No! Go play with Stevie instead. Leave me alone!" He frowned, brushing you off and turning his back at you to sulk facing the tree instead.

"But-

"I don't want to play with you" Bucky grumbled. Your bottom lip wobbled, dropping your shoulders as you walked off and sat by yourself under some shade on your porch. You didn't have many friends being the youngest and only little girl on your street; Bucky and Steve being the only two who included you in their games.

"Bucky's mean" You picked up one of your dolls, setting her up beside you while you toyed with a wild flowers, doing your best to keep from sniffling after he shooed you away. You knew he was upset but you wanted to make him feel better!

Of course it didn't take long for Bucky to feel bad, peeking over to see your fallen face sitting all alone on the steps of your house, eyes wet with tears which you were desperately blinking back. He got a bad feeling in his little pudgy belly, knowing he wasn't very nice to you. He knew his ma wouldn't be very happy if she heard how he'd spoken to you, especially after you were just trying to brighten his mood. He got up from his place on the grass, nicking a few flowers from his garden before shuffling over to you only to be met with your now grumpy face, crossing your arms and turning away just like he did.

"I'm sorry y/n" Bucky came and plopped beside you, moving the doll away, while clutching onto a few pink tulips. You didn't respond, still mad at him for being mean to you when you'd done nothing wrong. "C'mon jellybean, pwease?"

His baby blues were shining bright as he gave you his best puppy eyes, hoping you'd forgive him. You felt a giddy at the name he called you, one he'd given you because he thought you were sweet like one. You turned to face him while he gave you a shy little smile, placing the flowers onto your lap.

"I brought you flowers" He stated proudly, happy at the giggle you let out, setting them aside before tugging at his hand to run off and play.

"Y'promise you'll come back?" your eyes were wet with tears again although you were now 20 years older and the chubby boy you grew up with had grown into a very handsome soldier. He stood before you in his clean and pressed uniform, his face shaven, hair neatly cropped.

"Of course doll" He whispered affectionately, letting his thumbs swipe across your cheeks, kissing away the tears that fell. "I'll always come back to you jellybean"

"You better" You sniffled, standing on your toes to chase more of his lips as he pressed them to yours, his hands wrapping around your waist, picking you up with ease.

"M'gonna come right back to you, safe n'sound" He held you for as long as he could, rocking you close to his chest while you fought back a sob, giving him a brave smile instead.

"I love you Jamie"

"I love you jellybean"

That was the last time you saw him.

"This is a bad idea"

"When have I ever had a bad idea" Tony scoffed, continuing to tinker with his quantum portal while Bruce looked over numbers.

"It's not stable enough Tony, if we send someone through this, they could get stuck in an alternate timeline or we could end up changing the future-

"Yea, yea, stop worrying, hand me that spanner"

Bruce sighed, handing over the tool while contemplating on the safest way to test the machine. It wasn't ready to handle anyone actually travelling through time but at the very least they could potentially open portals to the past.

"We gotta put in a location to see if this works-how about-" Tony contemplated on a location, his eyes growing wide with excitement when he spotted Steve's diary that he'd left behind in the lab, "Let's see if Captain has any interesting places from the 40's"

"Why wouldn't you just see if we could get to the compound garden" Bruce groaned while Tony flipped through the pages, typing in an address that had been scribbled in. It was from a list of places Steve wanted to visit again from when he was a child, the address of the person listed under friends. There was only one other person listed there other than Bucky.

"Alright, call the others, let's see if this baby works"

"You're going to get us all killed" Bruce shook his head while calling for everyone to come to the lab. By now everyone was used to Tony's antics; the only one who was genuinely giddy with excitement was surprisingly Bucky. One thing he'd always loved was science; even his stoic expression couldn't hide the twinkle in his eye every time he got to see another Stark experiment.

"Glad you all made it. Now, thanks to Cap, we're going to see if we can open a portal that travels back to the 1940's. I suggest you all stand back since I haven't actually tested this before"

"Why are you like this" Nat snorted while Tony waved her off, pushing a few more buttons before hitting start. Bucky watched from the safe sidelines of the lab as the machine began to vibrate, a low buzz growing louder until a portal roared to life that lead to the inside of someone's home. Bucky and Steve were both stunned from shock seeing a flash of a very familiar living room for no longer than a second before the whole thing closed with a bang and a large puff of smoke in its place.

"Well done Mr. Playboy billionaire dumbass" Sam wheezed while the team was left coughing, the room cloudy as the loud buzz began to dull. "What was the location you even put in-

Sam stopped talking midway when he heard another voice coughing followed by mumbling coming from the place where the portal closed. The smoke hadn't yet dissipated but the shadow of a person was slowly becoming visible. Everyone froze when they realized there was someone on the platform, wondering who could've been sucked through.

"Bruce, turn on the fan-" Bruce hit the lab fan which pulled helped with the smoke revealing a young woman in a flower printed dress. An apron was still tied around her waist, flour streaked across her cheeks, a rolling pin still in her hand. "What the-

"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES"

Bucky thought he was going to collapse as soon as he saw who was on the platform, his heart fluttering madly in his chest. He couldn't control the blush that crept up on his cheeks, butterflies bursting in his tummy, just as they did all those years ago. The young woman stormed up to the soldier, face full of fury as her palm smacked his cheek (Not hard enough to actually hurt him of course).

"HOW DARE YOU"

Everyone else in the lab silently congregated to one side watching curiously though Steve was still utterly frozen seeing-

"Y-y/n? Doll?"

"Don't you doll me" you whacked his arm with your rolling pin, huffing when it clanged back after hitting metal. That didn't seem to faze you as you switched and hit the other arm instead, making Bucky yelp. "You lied!"

You dropped your makeshift weapon to the floor, moving your hands to your hips instead, looking up and down at the man you loved with your entire heart, the man who you mourned for years after you were told he was dead. He looked much different from when you'd last seen him, the most obvious difference being an entirely new arm. His cheeks were scruffy and it was clear some form of time travel had taken place but none of that mattered. None of that mattered when the love of your life was standing right there, alive and well.

"Oh baby, no-

"Absolutely not Barnes" you huffed at the pet name he gave you, crossing your arms over your chest and Bucky thought he'd melt into an absolute puddle at the sight. He was thrown back to when you were both no more than 4 years old, with a cute little frown on your face whenever you'd get upset. "You left! I thought you-I thought you died!"

The sound of your voice cracking broke Bucky's heart, his hands itching to wrap you up and pull you close to his chest the way you loved. He could see your eyes twinkle with tears threatening to spill out while you rapidly tried to blink them away. You chewed on your bottom lip to keep from wobbling and it only made Bucky yearn to hold you and never let go.

"Sweetheart please, I didn't mean to leave you doll, I promise" He stepped closer to you, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand in his, not feeling the slightest bit conscious about his metal arm. The coolness of his hand calmed your racing heart while you sniffled, still refusing to meet his eyes as you stared down at your feet instead.

The day you'd been told he'd never come back had been the worst day of your life. You wept for months on end, losing the man you were waiting to marry. The only person you'd been in love with since you were 4 years old.

Seeing you standing there before him stirred feelings in Bucky h never thought he'd feel again. Having a home. A beautiful wife. Little chubby babies. All with his dream girl he'd loved all his life. There wasn't a day that had gone by where he didn't think about her. He didn't think he'd ever get the chance again but here you were, dusted in flour like you always were whenever you were in the kitchen, in a pretty dress he loved so much, fighting your cries after desperately missing him. He softly cupped your cheeks, swiping away at your tears, his forehead coming down to softly rest against yours. He smiled through watery eyes at your stubborn nature, still keeping your arms crossed while his nose bumped with yours.

"Jellybean" Bucky whispered, your heart melting at the name, swallowing the lump in your throat, "Please? I-I'll- I'll bring you flowers" He said with a shaky voice, nearly toppling over when you flung yourself into his arms. He caught you, squeezing you right back and lifting you off the floor to cradle you nice and tight before pulling back to smash his lips against yours. The collective sniffles and whistles from the team were drowned out by your soft giggles and warm lips.

"I missed you so much" you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the one that comforted yo the most.

"You have no idea how much I missed you jellybean, never letting you go again"

"Terminator, you wanna introduce us?" Tony was the first to speak up, not so subtly wiping away at his eyes while Bucky continued to look at you with heard eyes, introducing you to everyone. You could only wrap your head around so much at a time but nothing truly mattered now that you were back with your soldier.

And of course your other best friend.

"Steve" You giggled as Steve lifted you up with ease into a tight hug, grinning at his two friends finally getting the life they deserved together.

Seriously imagine how sickeningly cute these two would be. Bucky is so excited to teach you all about the future. He gets to show you how to use all the new technology around the compound. He's so naughty about it too, teasingly telling you he'd be happy to help you in the shower if there's any questions you has about water temperature.

He doesn't waste any time with asking to marry you. Its everything you've ever dreamed of and more considering Tony took the bill and ran. Bucky can't put into words how happy he is finally getting the life he thought was ripped from his hands.

On your wedding night, Bucky spends hours loving on you like there's no tomorrow which is why a few months later, your belly is swollen with your first baby. Bucky is thankful for the future because as excited as he is to start a family, he's scared shitless something could happen to his jellybean.

"Bucky, I'm fine-

"Absolutely not, why are you up Jellybean, go sit down, I'll bring breakfast to you"

"I can still walk y'know-

"Nope. You stay right there, don't move mama, just rest"

When you do have to move around, he's there holding your baby bump, feeling giddy over becoming a dad. He can't wait to meet his little baby that he's made with his dream girl.

After his son is born, he waits for your body to heal but no ones surprised to see you with a new bump not too long after.

Two baby boys are no match for all the avengers but they all happily share their god father and god mother duties.

Your third is a little girl and she's going to be spoiled by everyone.

Somewhere along the way, you get a white fluffy cat.

Bucky's life has never been better.

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n0tamused · 4 months

Note

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?”

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage.

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear. “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades.

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this.

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous.

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat.

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face.

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!”

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you.

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another.

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

#-dragon.treasure #Jiyan #Jiyan x reader #Jiyan x you #Jiyan x y/n #jiyan x rover #jiyan imagine #jiyan fluff #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x female reader #jiyan x female rader #wuwa x reader #wuwa #wuwa x you #wuwa imagine #wuwa fluff #wuthering waves x y/n

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verstappen-cult · 5 months

Text

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. I saw the notification and ran to Instagram only to find these photos. And when I tell you that I couldn’t stop looking at them for at least five minutes. . . so, you know I had to write a silly little drabble.

You come home after your early pilates class to find Charles snuggling with a puppy on the carpet in the living room, cushions perfectly scattered around to simulate a comfortable bed. When Charles sees you standing there with a puzzled look on your face, he just pouts, hugging the little dog tightly against his chest, and looks at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“What is that?” You ask, eyebrows raised. You know what is is, you simply don’t know what is a dog doing in your apartment when you don’t have any pets.

Charles cheeks are colored a light pink when he says, “Remember that time you said how much you wanted a puppy?”

“That was ages ago!”

“But look at him!” Charles grabs the puppy with both hands and shows him to you just like that scene in The Lion King with Simba being presented to all the animals in the kingdom. “Look at those eyes! We can’t send him back to the shelter.”

The dog isn’t even looking at you, too busy licking your boyfriend’s hand.

But Charles is right.

You can’t send him back to the shelter when you can give him a better life. And is not like you are actually mad that he decided to adopt a dog without your consent, it’s more about the surprise to see him lying on the carpet in his $2,000 white designer sweater with a dog, when in the past he’s gotten angry when you haven’t hung it up how it is supposed to hung.

You drop your bag and take off your shoes to join him on the floor. The little guy jumps from his hand and walks over to you, sniffing your hands and giving you side eyes until he feels safe enough to climb in your lap and let you hold him.

“Aren’t you cute,” You say, giving his little head a kiss. “I guess we need to give him a name, no?”

“About that,” Charles plays with a dog toy to avoid looking at you. “I already named him.”

You huff, “Of course you did.” You can’t be mad, not when Charles looks so shy and happy with the cute puppy walking around and exploring his new home. “What is his name?”

“Leo Leclerc.” He says it so proud, the corners of his mouth curling up that you can’t help but smile too.

“It suits him.” You agree, leaning closer to Charles. He immediately opens his arms for you and you rest your head on his chest, looking at Leo trying to climb on the sofa. “You’re a dog dad now, Charlie.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t asked you before adopting him,” He turns his head to get a better look at you. “and I’m sorry I used you wanting a puppy as an excuse when in reality I feel in love with him the second I saw him through the window.” Leo walks back to you and finds comfort between Charles legs. “I don’t want him to be just mine. I want him to be ours.”

You sit up, eyes looking between Charles and, what is now, your puppy. Your boyfriend looks expectantly, waiting for an answer that comes in the form of a squeak and a kiss.

“I can’t believe you went to get groceries and ended up adopting a dog.”

“About that,” Charles scratches the back of his neck nervously and you know what he’s about to say. “I saw him and forgot about everything else! But I can go to the grocery store this afternoon. He needs more toys, after all.”

“Oh, he’s gonna be so spoiled!”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x you

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its-your-mind · 1 year

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ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel

The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.

But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started

Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.

Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).

And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.

But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.

AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…

It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.

Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.

Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.

Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.

And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #taako adventurezone #merle highchurch #magnus burnsides #McElroys #griffin mcelroy #the adventure zone

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livinginshambles · 7 months

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You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)

Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!

Masterlist

______________________________

“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.

“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.

You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.

Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”

James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.

“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.

James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”

“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”

James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”

You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.

The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.

Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”

“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”

“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.

Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.

“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.

“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”

Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“

“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.

“Then why-“

“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.

“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”

You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.

“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.

Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.

Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.

You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.

But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.

And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.

“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.

“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.

“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.

Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”

Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”

Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”

James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”

James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”

Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.

He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.

“Find who?”

James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.

“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”

You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.

“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.

Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”

You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.

You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.

“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“

“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.

James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.

You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.

You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”

“So you heard me?”

James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.

“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Okay.”

When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.

“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”

Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.

James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.

James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.

Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.

“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.

“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.

Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.

“You will never compare to her.”

All you could manage was a bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.

“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,” he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.

You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”

Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”

His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.

You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.

James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.

Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.

You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.

Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.

As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.

Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.

You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.

"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.

But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.

Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.

You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.

"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.

James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.

But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.

James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.

“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.

As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.

On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.

Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog

@mellowarcadefun @marauderssimpthings @tortured-artists @kazimierasm @ssc7514 @ietss @chieffanfun @narcissuspetal @jamesweather @nyrasunderwrld

@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette

@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @k0la22 @quackitysdrugdealer @lovelyteenagebeard @padf00ts-l0ver @littlemisslovestoread @queerqueenlynn @dot-erdana-blog @siimplyalea @stilesks

@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders era #marauder x reader #young james potter x reader

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gojonanami · 10 months

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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo

word count: 2,821

December 7, 1989.

A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene.

But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound.

At least, the strongest sorcerer had.

Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty.

And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year.

Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more.

Until it didn’t, again.

Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue.

And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man.

But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him.

And so many did.

And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you?

You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life.

And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him.

You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself).

“C’mon, just tell meeeee,”

And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,”

“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—”

“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug.

“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—”

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book.

“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,”

You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,”

He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?”

“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.

But why wasn’t he?

He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease.

He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle.

It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest?

And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer.

But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled.

He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them —

“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?”

“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs.

“I’m supervising, that’s why,”

“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?”

“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?”

“Salmon,”

“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK.

“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!”

“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,”

“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well.

“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”

“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident.

You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.”

There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility.

And Satoru grins — all this for him?

“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?”

“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?”

“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,”

And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?”

“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,”

And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes.

He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses.

Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?”

And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle.

Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”).

He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough.

And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—”

“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!”

“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider.

As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him.

You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home.

Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck.

“Was that mission earlier your doing?”

“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap.

“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh.

“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,”

And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift.

Positive.

He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered.

“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—”

And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?”

You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—”

And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it.

“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,”

You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—”

“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused.

“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close.

“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part.

“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room.

December 7, 2018.

A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better.

a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.

tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #dividers by @/saradika

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baeshijima · 2 years

Text

— how to woo the acting grand sage 101

wherein you pull out all the stops in an effort to persuade alhaitham on why he should date you, only… he woos you instead?!

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 7.8k wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, angst if you squint, reader gets ill from overwork in one part, slight spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (brief mentions/recap of end events)

A/N : reader is struggling but they’re trying their best, alhaitham is a (smitten) menace and bad at feelings (kinda); the embodiment of u fall first, he falls harder (i just think we need more energetic/cute readers with haitham TヘT)

It wasn’t anything special. Really. Just you, your first day jitters, and the calm boy beside you in his Haravatat beret; the same one as yours.

Perhaps he’d noticed your flitting eyes, your shifting feet, or your wrung hands that swung gently in front of your robe-clad body because, when your eyes met (and, oh, what pretty eyes he had), he gave you a small nod. Of what? Comfort? Acknowledgement? Salutations?

You couldn’t tell, and you couldn’t ask. By the time you regained your senses he’d already walked off, the blank space beside you feeling strangely empty.

It wasn’t anything special.

But to you, that one, singular moment was all you needed; the comfort it gave was immeasurable, your first day jitters nonexistent.

You soon found out his name: Alhaitham. The boy in the matching Haravatat beret, the one who gave you a simple nod, and the one who sat in front of you in class.

As far as first impressions went, he was in your good books! Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for your classmates or your professor. He was aloof and indifferent to your peers, sometimes riling them up with his blunt remarks or blatantly ignoring their presence. As for the professor’s apparent dislike, it was most likely due to him rarely attending class after the first week or so (something about self-study being a better use of his time, if you recalled correctly).

But even so, through all the harsh whispers and scorn you saw surround him, no one could deny his academic prowess. How could they when the scores and praise spoke for itself?

In all honesty, you don’t remember when or how Alhaitham accepted your presence amongst others. It took you a while, sure, but he eventually began taking time out of his own to converse with you. Passing conversations soon turned to greeting each other a good morning and bidding the other a farewell, which then turned to late night study sessions in the House of Daena, which then became a regular hangout spot for you both, and so on and so forth.

Oddly enough, knowing you were the only one he would tolerate was somehow rewarding. While he paid no heed to the world around him and moved at his own tempo, you’d always find him waiting for you up ahead.

In that sense, you were comforted by the idea he would be willing to wait for you — and, undoubtedly, you would wait for him too.

Fast forward a few years and you’re now stuck in a long-term unrequited love for the scribe of the Akademiya.

Lovely.

You’ve had a lot to reflect on these past few years (most of which you’d rather not recall), but one thing seemingly remains stagnant; you love Alhaitham. That’s been something you have long-since accepted, and something you’re sure the entirety of Sumeru City are aware of by now.

While you definitely weren’t one to shy away from your (blatantly obvious) feelings, it doesn’t mean you flaunted your love at every opportunity presented. In fact, you were pretty happy with how things are now!

But, well, you only live once, as they say. And, by process of elimination, that just means you should act on your feelings so that you can either finally move on, or land yourself the most eligible bachelor in Teyvat!

(No one other than yourself thinks that, but hey! One is better than none!)

And so that was the origin story for your journey — Operation: “Get Alhaitham to Fall In Love With Me” was then set into motion!

Step 1: Be upfront with your feelings!

Confess to Alhaitham.

You can do that.

All you have to do is strut up to Alhaitham, ask him to hear you out for a moment, (metaphorically) spill your heart out to the man of your dreams, and anticipate a response! A positive one, preferably.

Easy enough, right?

Well, that’s what it should be. So why is it that you’re now pacing back and forth in front of his office door, mentally rehearsing your pre-written confession you spent too many sleepless nights redrafting until you were somewhat satisfied?

A severe oversight on your part, that’s what.

Hm, maybe I should wait another day. The timing doesn’t feel quite right, and the weather is a bit gloomy for a confession. Yeah, maybe I can just head back and pretend I wasn’t even here—

“I can hear you pacing back and forth even with my earpieces on.”

At the familiar, low intonation, you freeze. Body stiff, you slowly turn your head to the man leaning cross-armed against the door frame, an unimpressed look greeting you.

Crap. Was I really that loud...?

With one brow raised and a slight frown tugging his lips, he gives a once-over at your haggard appearance. It doesn’t take long for his expression to morph into one of concern as he takes a step away from the door frame and closer to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, eyes honed in on yours; or more specifically, the area under your eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept for a decade.”

It sure feels much longer than that...

“I’m alright. I think. Wait. That’s not important right now,” you stammer, head shaking to regain your resolve. Ignoring the judgemental look cast upon you, you lift your head to meet his gaze, fists clenching in an effort to disperse your nerves. “I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

And with a deep breath and eyes squeezed shut, you blurt out, “I think you’re really good-looking! I really like you, too! Like, a lot! And you have super pretty eyes! And really fluffy hair! And you’re really smart, though you can be a bit of a pain... And... And you have a nice physique!”

Silence.

Under the weight of his blank stare and the impending doom known as ‘silence’, it takes a drawn out second for a horrified gasp to escape you. Belatedly, you realise your absolute abomination of a screw-up — an insatiable urge for the ground to swallow you whole consumes all remaining sense of rationale (which isn’t all that much, really).

Aaaaaaahhhh I went completely off script!!

Perhaps sensing your next move, Alhaitham snaps out of his stupor and begins reaching out for you. “Wait—”

“Ha-Have a good night!”

And then you’re sprinting off into who knows where, leaving Alhaitham stranded at his office doorway with an arm outstretched in your fading direction and a dumbfounded expression settled on his features.

Disgruntled, he rubs the bridge of his nose, the heat washing over him doing little to help reorganise his thoughts. “It’s eight in the morning, not eight in the evening...”

(Alhaitham’s never been more grateful for his soundproof earpieces. Not only does it tune out the outside world at his beck and call, but it also prevents you from seeing the tips of his ears stained a scarlet hue; this being one time out of the many.)

Mission Status: Success...?

Step 2: Give him flowers! A bouquet never hurt anyone!

“Tighnari!”

At the call of his name, Tighnari’s ears flick and perk up. In a swift movement, he turns his head to witness you dashing towards him with a grin, hands waving manically in the air.

“How many times have I told you not to run?” he tuts, head shaking in exasperation. But even with his nagging, you can still detect the smile seizing his lips from a mile away as he begins approaching to meet you halfway.

When you come to a stop in front of him, you merely beam. “Not enough times!”

“Clearly.”

“Anyway,” you begin, “as much as I’d love to stay and chat, have you prepared what I asked for?”

He scoffs at your request, “Of course. Just who do you take me for?”

“The bestest, most reliable friend ever, of course!”

You don’t think you’ve ever witnessed someone switch to a deadpan so quickly before.

“Buttering up to me only goes so far, y’know.”

Amidst your grumbles and his chuckles, he leads you back to his house in Gandharva Ville. You’ve always enjoyed the Forest Watcher’s presence, and you’re glad he’s happier now compared to his time in the Akademiya.

The trek back was filled with your usual back-and-forth, lively chatter making its way up and filling the air.

(“Oh, is that a new essential oil?”

“So you’ve noticed. I see your sense of smell is evolving.”

“Well, it’s an entirely different scent from the last one, and I think I’d have to be a little nose-blind to not notice.”)

When you make it back to his abode, you find a bouquet already neatly wrapped up and propped against the wall. A sweet, calm aroma wades through the air, becoming more potent the closer you get.

Simply put, it’s perfect.

With this, I can move on from my previous embarrassment!

“Thank you again, Tighnari. I owe you one. Oh,” you gasp upon remembering something, “and be sure to send my regards to Collei.”

“Don’t mention it,” he responds with a smile and a nod to your request before bidding you farewell. “Be careful on your way back! Be mindful of your step and any stray roots in the ground. Wouldn’t want you to trip and tumble down, after all.”

“I thought we were past that already...”

“What?!”

“Apologies,” the scholar in front of you replies, scratching the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “Scribe Alhaitham left earlier in the day to explore some ancient runes in the desert...”

You’re pretty sure your heart just cracked.

“It can’t be...” you murmur. The bouquet in your hand feels heavy, just like your heart.

The scholar panics at your apparent dejection, wracking his brain in an attempt to rectify the predicament at hand. “When he comes back, I could tell him you were looking for him?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just... see him when I see him...”

You manage a small smile at his efforts, but the scholar only spirals into further panic when you trudge away with a gloomy aura hanging above.

I’m sorry, Tighnari. I’ve failed you and your botany skills...

Mission Status: Fail...

Step 3: Show him you can be dependable!

It’s a good day.

The sun’s out, the birds are chirping, and there’s not a single cloud up in the sky!

Yeah, it’s a good day if you ignore the stacks of paperwork piled up on your desk.

Dejectedly, you sigh and slump against the wood. You can already feel the forthcoming headache from just a single glance at the blurred words. Ideally, you wish everything could just be signed and done with at the mere thought. Realistically, you know that’s next to impossible.

...Maybe putting off your work and procrastinating wasn’t the smartest of decisions but, well, it’s too late now! Guess you’ll just have to suck it up and pull a couple all-nighters. Nothing out of the ordinary, unfortunately.

“Well,” you sigh to yourself, stretching your arms overhead, “good luck to me, I guess...”

(Distantly, you hear Alhaitham’s voice in the back of your mind reprimand you for leaving your work to later, but you swat the thoughts away without missing a beat and get started on the first pile.)

“[...me].”

“[Nam...].”

“[Name]!”

You gasp, shooting up from your slouched position. Though you come to regret the action when a sharp pang pierces through your conscience, eliciting a harsh wince to leave you. Immediately you fall forward and clutch your head, another pair of hands grasping your shoulders to steady you.

Huh...?

“Are you alright?” A cold hand makes contact along the expanse of your forehead and you subconsciously lean into the touch. “You’re burning up... When was the last time you rested?”

At the prompt, you strain your eyes to the left. Eyes squinting, you can barely make out a blurry figure, but the mesh of white, purple, red, and tan has you murmuring his name, “Cyno...?”

��Yes, it’s me.” His image wavers, and you can no longer distinguish his features. “You... last slept... hey... [...me]!”

His voice bleeds into white noise — drowned out by the world tipping on its axis before eventually it, too, is consumed by darkness.

Groaning through the overbearing warmth and fragmented light against your closed eyes, you breathe out a sigh and shuffle in place, trying to find a comfortable spot. Burrowing further into the duvet you feel yourself relaxing.

A musky scent surrounds you; one that’s warm and familiar, tinged with an aroma of worn pages and nature. The blends are few and far between, and yet they harmonize perfectly — its calming undertones help further relax you.

In the back of your mind, there’s a nagging feeling that there’s something you’re forgetting. But just what is it...

Your eyes snap open, heart lurching.

“Ah! The paperwork!”

In the midst of your frantic actions, a weight falls off your shoulders and tumbles onto your lap. Mouth agape and breathing erratic you look down, only to blink at the familiar item.

Alhaitham’s cape...?

“Lie down.”

Your shoulders jump when a voice comes from your left. Before you have time to protest, you feel yourself gently pushed back into bed, the covers lifted back up to your chin and Alhaitham’s cape draped on top once more. Though your movements are slightly restricted, you can still just about turn your head.

Alhaitham’s silhouette against the sunrise is hunched in your chair; elbows on knees, hands wrung together, and gaze focused on the ground. When your sight clears up, you notice his hair looks more dishevelled than usual.

You continue watching him as he heaves a light sigh and reaches over to his side. His hands wring a small cloth, water seeping out as his knuckles turn white from the pressure exerted. When he turns to you, the newly dampened cloth laid across your forehead, he doesn’t make eye contact. No, it’s more like he’s avoiding looking at you in general.

An awkward cough escapes you and he flinches ever so slightly at the sound. “How long have I been out for?”

“Two days.”

“I see,” you murmur. “Ah. Where’s Cyno? It’s kinda blurry, but the last I remember is him waking me up.”

“He’s busy.”

“Oh... Okay.”

A suffocating silence lapses over you after his blunt responses. It’s been a while since he’s spoken like this to you, so you’d be a bit of an idiot to not realise he’s mad. As for the reason why... Well, you’d rather not acknowledge the cause, even if you have a feeling he’ll bring it up sooner or later.

“[Name],” Alhaitham calls, voice low and even.

Averting you gaze, however hard you may wish for it, doesn’t help you avoid the inevitable confrontation set in stone. (That still doesn’t stop you from subtly lifting up the covers.)

His voice comes out weak and fuzzy against the ringing in your ears. “Why... didn’t you say anything? That you were ill? Were you going to just sit through it and not say a single word at all? Did you plan on pulling all-nighters again, even when you were on the verge of collapsing? What do you think would’ve happened if I didn’t overhear some scholars talking about how you fainted and had to be carried by the General Mahamatra?”

If this were you any other day, you’re sure you would’ve been over the moon at the sight of Alhaitham being the first thing you see upon waking up — taking care of and worrying over you on top of that. But alas, you’re sick and the string of questions he directs towards you does nothing but irritate you, the dull ache that previously lingered like white noise now blaringly clear.

“I don’t know. I guess I just—” you wince at the pain shooting through your head, “—I just thought there was no point so long as I get it done quickly then rest after. It was my fault I left it till recently.”

“Besides,” you add in a whisper, straining your eyes in an effort to stay awake, “you don’t like incompetent people, and I... didn’t want you to think that of me...”

“...”

It was quick.

One moment you felt warm and feverish, but now you feel warm and feverish and your forehead stings.

“Don’t be so stupid,” he retorts nonchalantly.

You’re dumbstruck, for a lack of better words. Through widened, bleary eyes you can just about register his unreadable expression, lips taught and brows furrowed slightly in your direction. A weak “What...?” slips through your lips, hoarse and broken.

For some reason, Alhaitham’s expression morphs. One of his hands tightens around yours (when did that get there...?) while the other reaches over to wring out a newly dampened cloth. He stays quiet, gaze avoiding yours as he focuses on wiping away the sweat clinging to your face while being mindful of the cloth already on your forehead.

“If you’re struggling, tell me. Don’t keep these things to yourself. And don’t...” he trails off with a grimace, and you barely catch sight of his lower lip tugged back by his teeth before it’s overshadowed by his hair. “Don’t ever think of yourself as incompetent again. You’re far from it.”

Oh...

Oh.

Out of all the things Alhaitham could have possibly said, you weren’t anticipating assurance and comfort.

“I... Uh... Hm. Okay,” you bumble like the fool you are, thoughts incoherent at the unexpectedly caring words. The only form of acknowledgement you received was him gently patting your hand; if you had the energy to squint, you could probably detect a teeny smile teetering the corners of his lips, but that could also be your half-delirious brain making stuff up like usual.

A cool sensation lands on your forehead, regulating the overwhelming heat permeating through your body. The sudden weight forces your eyes to close for a brief second and, upon opening them again, you find Alhaitham rummaging through his belt pouch. When he sits upright again, your attention is drawn to the object resting on his lap.

A... book?

“I’ll read to you,” he announces, probably noticing your blatant stare at the hardback cover now in his hand. He’s still avoiding your gaze, more interested in the book’s cover as his thumb traces over its surface.

There’s a brief pause.

Then, for the first time since you awoke, Alhaitham looks at you.

“It’s the new light novel from that author you like.”

“Huh? You mean...“ you trail off, eyes darting to take a closer look at the illustrated cover. A gasp soon escapes you after confirming it is, in fact, exactly what he said. “No way! You can’t even get this version unless you pre-ordered it months in advance! Wait, did you...?”

Another silence settles in your room. He averts his gaze to the side again, lips pursing as you send an accusatory stare his way, but shifts his sights back to you just as quickly.

“Enough talking, more resting.”

“But—”

“I’m opening the novel now.”

Despite your huff and low grumbles, you settle back in your bed and tug the duvet up to your chin. You listen to his low, comforting voice narrate the first couple pages, a familiar warmth vastly different to this feverish one washing over you. Your nose makes contact with the fabric of his cape and his scent surrounds you, coaxing your ailed body into a much-needed slumber.

Eyelids heavy, you use your last remaining strength to mumble your gratitude before drifting off, a content smile resting on your lips.

“Thank you, Haitham...”

Alhaitham’s breath hitches, eyes widening and the novel in his hand nearly slips from his grasp. His head snaps up to stare at you, only to find you already fast asleep with a few soft snores escaping you. He stays silent for a moment, taking a moment to process the sleep-induced words you’d uttered; namely the nickname you addressed him with.

Right. [Name] was merely influenced by the sickness and drowsiness. Don’t read too much into it.

Even after confirming that to himself, he continues to read the novel aloud to your unconscious self, replenishing the cloth at frequent intervals and staying by your side.

Even after confirming that to himself, Alhaitham finds himself unable to extinguish the heat that persistently clings to his skin — neither does the soft smile nor the flutter stirring in his stomach seem to have any intention of leaving; even more so at the sight of you burrowing into his cape.

Mission Status: Failed successfully!

Step 4: The fastest way to one’s heart is through their stomach! (Read: give them food.)

A lot has happened over the past couple weeks. Other than Azar and his minions being overthrown and Lesser Lord Kusanali being freed from solitary confinement by a few of your friends, Alhaitham is now the Acting Grand Sage!

Well, you only heard about this recent development from Cyno and Tighnari after returning from an expedition to decode some ancient runes in the desert. Not the welcome back you were expecting, but a welcome back nonetheless!

And upon confronting Alhaitham about his involvement in the rebellion you’d heard so much of (Cyno sure had a blast detailing his annoyance and praise over your last Genius Invokation TCG match), he merely heaved an exasperated sigh before adamantly explaining to you it wasn’t his intention to have his current position, but “Since everyone is so incompetent, I’m the only capable person who can take charge.”.

(His words, not yours.)

In all honesty, it almost feels like he’s still the scribe with how often you see him — as though nothing has changed and his duties are still the same. Though the same can’t be said with the other scholars and researchers, you suppose.

Recently, you’ve had more researchers come up and ask you to deliver papers to Alhaitham in their stead. Their reason? Well, it typically fell under one of two categories; “The Acting Grand Sage never spares us the time of day outside his work hours, and you’re our only hope...” or, “He wouldn’t turn you away or avoid you since he likes you so much.”

Maybe it’s because of the massive ego boost you’d gotten from their comments, but you now find yourself lugging a stack of papers that need to be looked over and signed, along with the freshly boxed up meal you bought earlier dangling from your other hand.

The journey back to his new office isn’t all that bad, just... a little awkward. You’re pretty sure the librarian hasn’t seen someone come and go from the (Acting) Grand Sage’s office-slash-elevator as frequently as you do, but hey! That just means you’re pretty special!

(For what it’s worth, you do kinda wish they had elevator music. Talking and humming to yourself can only do so much.)

Upon reaching the top floor and stepping off the platform, you’re greeted with the sight of Alhaitham leaning back and reading another one of his books. Ah, I feel my heart getting lighter at the sight.

“I’ve returned with food, Grand Sage!” you call out with a grin, waving your hand which carries the bag.

“Acting Grand Sage.”

“I’ve returned with food, Acting Grand Sage!”

A deadpan stare is all you receive at your quip, a sigh soon escaping him. “Why are you even addressing me with that title? Surely just saying my name is more efficient.”

“Because it’s fun, of course!” you merely laugh out in response.

A frown tugs his lips at that, eyes narrowing slightly before relaxing. He beckons you over with swift eye contact, and the chair opposite to where he’s sat is pushed back with his foot.

Wow. What a gentleman.

Plopping yourself down on the chair with an audible “Oof!”, you place the newly bought meal onto his desk. A mouth-watering scent wafts in the space between you, and you find yourself holding back a gulp at the delectable aroma. You quickly divvy up the food between you before glancing around the room.

As if reading your thoughts, Alhaitham nonchalantly says, “If you’re looking for my assistant, he’s not here.”

“Oh?” you ask between delightful mouthfuls. Swallowing down your food, you continue. “Where is he now? There should be plenty for his share too since I bought a lot this time around — or, well, I guess Lambad insisted I took more...”

There’s a small beat of silence after your words, though you barely register that fact when he speaks up again.

“No need. I’m feeling hungrier than usual, so I doubt there will be any leftovers to share.”

“Huh?” It takes you a couple seconds and a raised brow from Alhaitham for his words to register. When it does, however, you find yourself beyond ecstatic. “Oh! Of course, eat as much as you want! You need the energy for your Grand Sage duties, after all.”

“Acting Grand Sage duties.”

“Yeah, yeah, same thing.”

The rest of your lunch is spent in idle chatter and shared food. When you put more food on his side, he pushed his drink towards you or gave you more of your favourite bits.

(For someone who claimed to be really hungry, he sure was giving you a lot of food...)

Leaning back with a hefty sigh, you pat your stomach in content. Ah, Lambad never fails me, you think to yourself. Now that you’re done with your mini lunch date, it’s probably about time you head back and get your work for the day done. Your once content sigh now turns dreary, the energy you had barely seconds ago already dissipating.

Unbeknown to you, the corners of Alhaitham’s lips quirked up at your obvious dejection. Fist on cheek, he stares fondly at your ever-changing expressions; the familiarity of such a sight bringing him more comfort than he would ever let on. Eyes sweeping across the desk, his mood sours when spotting a stack of papers that wasn’t there before your arrival.

“Did those scholars bother you to run errands for them again?”

“Ah, this?” you drawl, head tilting slightly to view the contents. A low giggle escapes you when remembering the reason you originally brought it. “It’s because they can never find you.”

A huff escapes him at that comment. “Then they should have come during my work hours.”

“Apparently you’re never here when they come looking for you.”

“And? It’s not my problem they simply have bad timing.”

You all but shake your head at his antics, an amused smile blooming on your lips. Taking a quick glance at the time, you startle. Oh boy, where did the time go? Time really does fly when you’re having fun. Panic settles in you when the stack of papers needing to be sorted and signed appears in your mind. Scrambling up from your seat you spew out hasty apologies, too absorbed in your panic to notice the startled man you previously ate with.

“Aaaahh! I’m so sorry Haitham, but I really have to go! I have a million papers that need to be sorted and— gosh. How did the time fly by so quickly?! I could’ve sworn it was twelve just a minute ago—!”

“Wait!”

His voice is rushed — panicked, almost — and you find yourself unable to move. The ironclad grip on your wrist is tingling, even more so as it moves to envelop your hand completely.

His cool facade wavers slightly when you regard him with astonishment, but he gulps down his frayed nerves and steels his resolve. “Call me that again.”

“Huh? Like what?”

His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Haitham.”

Mission Status: Success?

Step 5: Make him... jealous?

Apparently, your sad attempts have garnered Kaveh’s attention (and pity). Why else would he be at your door at 4 a.m. and suggesting you use him to make Alhaitham jealous, all the while grumbling how “It’s so painful to watch you do so much, only for that guy to do nothing.”, as well as the addition of “Maybe this time I can finally get the upper hand over him and that infuriating arrogance of his!”

“Is someone like him really going to get jealous over something so...” you trail off in thought after he explains the plan he had in mind, eyes screwing shut as you try to think of the word to describe, well, whatever it is Kaveh proposed, “so trivial? It just seems like something so beyond him to get jealous.”

“Hah!” he barks out, settling back into your sofa and patting down the blanket on his lap. “You’re kidding, right?” When you don’t respond, he levels his sight with yours, perplexed. “Wait, you really don’t know?”

“Would I be asking if I knew?” At your retort, his face freezes. He seems to have come to a realisation, if the way he instantly sits upright has anything to say about it.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kaveh intervenes, hands resting on his temples. “Let me get this right. You’ve been pursuing him for how many years now—”

“Five years,” comes your instant reply.

“—I wasn’t expecting you to answer, but exactly. Five years. And you think something like this would be ‘trivial’ to him? That guy??” You nod; he groans. “Ugh. You’re hopeless. The both of you.”

An offended gasp escapes you. “Well, excuuuse you! I’ll have you know I’m trying my best over here.”

“Unfortunately, I’m aware of that.”

He deflates against the cushions with a sigh, lifting the fallen blanket up his torso. A slew of unintelligible grumbles leaves his lips, and you just barely make out “I still don’t understand what you see in someone so unromantic...” before shaking your head at his antics.

When you take a glimpse at the time, however, a thought sticks out in your head.

“Also, why are you here at 4 a.m.?”

“Am I not allowed to visit you at 4 a.m.?”

You blink. He blinks back.

“...Did Alhaitham take your keys again?”

Silence.

“No...” he trails off, like a liar.

That night — or morning, rather — you let the temporarily homeless Kaveh crash at your house, discussing your plans on making Alhaitham jealous.

As a result of your late-night plotting, you’d somehow ended up spending around a week solely in Kaveh’s presence; as per the plan, that is. According to him, if you took some time away from Alhaitham, then it would “make him question that annoying mindset of his and force him to realise what a bumbling fool he’s being!”.

(Kaveh’s words. Not yours.)

Well, you suppose taking a break from his presence wouldn’t do that much harm. The blond makes for fun company, and you would never turn down an invitation from him! In short, this plan of his just gave you an excuse to hang with him even more than you already do!

You strayed from the Akademiya as much as you both could without neglecting your work, but the majority of your time was spent with Kaveh in the House of Daena, your house, or Puspa Café. And when Alhaitham was in the nearby area, or directly approaching you both, Kaveh would be quick to pull you away to a different spot. And when he managed to catch you when you were alone outside your working duties, you would conjure an excuse before hurriedly taking your leave. (You mentally apolgised to him each time as you scurried away, not daring to look back in case your resolve crumbled.)

Luckily, today, you haven’t encountered him.

With a much needed stretch after working through the morning, you turn to Kaveh and see him doing the same as a yawn slips past his lips. You’re feeling a bit peckish now, and you’re sure he is too. Plus, the weather was pretty good so going outside wouldn’t be too bad!

“Hey, where do you wanna go for lunch today? Lambad’s—”

Though, you barely get to utter the restaurant’s name when he pulls you into an embrace, arms wrapped around you as you both sway slightly in tandem. Instantly, you realise what’s happening.

Wait, we’re starting that part of the plan now?!

Sure enough, footsteps resound from behind you, a deep and familiar voice following soon after. “So this is where you’ve been. Strangely enough, you seem busier and harder to find these days.”

Kaveh parts from you a second later, but takes your hand in his. Instantly, you see Alhaitham’s eyes dart to your interlocked fingers before returning back to you. Kaveh seems to take note as well, and deftly swings your hands in front.

“Yeah, and what of it?“ You gulp at his smug tone, mentally preparing yourself for the incoming argument they usually fall into. “But you seem to have caught us at a bad time again, because we were just on our way to a date!”

...That wasn’t part of the script?!

His hand gently squeezes around yours, and you will yourself out of your surprise. Right. This is part of the act. Even if it doesn’t sit well with you, it’s not like you have many options left!

And so with that being said, you steel your nerves and turn to face Alhaitham. Not even a second later do you find yourself faltering when you take note of his expression — blank and slightly shadowed by his hair.

“...Is that so?”

“Of course. We were just on our way to Lambad’s Tavern,” Kaveh responds before turning to you with a smile. “Weren’t we, [Name]?”

And you smile back (albeit through gritted teeth). “Haha, yes, that’s right! We were just about to have lunch.”

A pregnant pause lingers in the air after your agreement.

(Is it just you, or did the temperature suddenly drop?)

“I see,” Alhaitham finally breathes out. He spares another glance at your hands before meeting Kaveh’s eyes. “Well, I hate to be the one to ruin your plans, but I need [Name]’s help for some urgent matters.”

A scoff. “What could be so urgent for someone who makes it a point to get all his work done in advance?”

“I can assure you it’s far more urgent than your... date.”

There’s a distant sheen in his eyes as he forces out the last word. The air around you turns frigid as the two men stare each other down and, if this were depicted in a show of some sort, you’re sure lightning would crackle in the space between the two.

An agitated sigh breaks the silence. The grip on your hand loosens.

“Alright, fine. You can have [Name] for your ‘urgent matter’.” Kaveh gently nudges you forward until you find yourself standing before Alhaitham. “If you do anything strange to [Name], I’ll come and personally sort you out myself!”

Besides the brief scoff and mutter of “I’d like to see you try”, Alhaitham spares you a prolonged glance before wrapping his hand around your wrist and turning away, forcing you to follow hot on his heels. When you look back at Kaveh, all you see is a double thumbs up with an agitated expression (no doubt he heard Alhaitham’s snide remark) that screams “I told you so”.

Well, that’s no help at all.

The walk to the elevator is silent. The ride up to his office even more so. And awkward. Very awkward. You’re probably the only one feeling this awkwardness though. After all, you were the one ignoring him this past week, not the other way around, so he has no reason to feel awkward around you. In fact, Alhaitham should be more annoyed than awkward...

Ah. I’m screwed.

The lift comes to a halt when the realisation sets in, the presence of his hand on your skin even more prominent than before. He still hasn’t said a word to you. And, if you’re being completely honest here, you’re not sure whether to be grateful for that or not.

There’s an unnerving silence in the (Acting) Grand Sage’s office. Upon closer inspection, it seems his assistant isn’t here today either; only you and Alhaitham stand in the centre (of his office, and the world). As your gaze flits across the expanse of the room, you note how messy the interior appears — well, messier than usual, that is.

“I didn’t like you when we first met,” he begins; unprovoked. He doesn’t turn around, and so you’re left to gape at his back. “You were annoying and kept hovering around me, even when I made it abundantly clear I didn’t want to be bothered. You were a nuisance; a thorn in my side and I would always get irritated at the mere mention of your name.

I never understood your naivety. Were you pretending, or were you really that unaware? Why would you go out of your way to make a good impression on others? Did you have to be liked by everyone so desperately?” A harsh scoff leaves his lips, but you couldn’t tell whether that was directed to you or to himself. “I couldn’t understand you and thought of you as a fool.”

Wait… isn’t he just straight-up insulting you now?

“I couldn’t understand you back then but now, I know you like the back of my hand.” His voice remains unchanged. Perhaps if it weren’t only you two in the room, the slight waver of his voice would have gone unheard. Then he breathes out a sigh and tilts his head back, still with no intention of facing you. “Do you remember? That winter back in our first year. The one where we were partnered for a presentation.”

(Oh. He’s actually talking to you now.)

“Uh, yeah,” you stammer, “that’s the one we were given two months to prepare for, right?”

He hums in confirmation, “Do you also know, [Name]? At the time, I considered those two months we spent together to be the worst of my life.”

...What.

Too stunned to even think up a retort, he seems to take your silence as his cue to continue.

“Your views on the world; your naivety; your foolishness... I soon realised they were all qualities I had merely made up, simply because I couldn’t grasp your intentions until I actually talked to you. Hah,” he laughs, bitter and remorseful, “it turned out I was the naive one, and that made me question my values.

At the end of our project, I came to realise it wasn’t anything to do with your disposition, but more so my feelings for you. I knew what it was but, at the same time, I denied them. I avoided you more than anything in hopes of them dying out. But... they didn’t. They only grew stronger, as if to mock me for my vain efforts.”

And then he turns — slowly, hesitantly — knitted brows and lower lip caught between his teeth. It’s bashful and shy and tentative; and yet you’re sure his eyes have never held such a confident and resolute glint before now. And now, with both of your hands engulfed in his, he continues on.

“Ever since accepting my feelings, I grew more aware of your presence. No matter where I looked, no matter where my thoughts were, you were always there. I soon came to value your opinion and thoughts of me when I hadn’t cared about such things before. With time, they grew stronger. More desperate. And when realising that just being by you was no longer enough, I... became greedy.”

(Alhaitham has a vague sense to stop here, but he can’t. He won’t let this chance to reveal the true nature of his feelings slip by.)

There’s a small beat of silence as he lowers his head — foreheads touching and noses brushing.

"I want to kiss you, hold you, experience all the mundane and extraordinary things life has to offer with you. I want to be there for you and grow old with you, and...” His hold on you tightens, angling his head to get a better view of you, and for you to see his glossy eyes and near-trembling smile. “And I want to keep your smile in my eyes for the rest of my life. If this isn't love, then I'll probably never know love for the rest of my life."

Your mind’s a mess; jumbled and incoherent. Unfocused, your eyes dart from every dip of his face to the furniture in the background, unable to keep your mind and concentration at bay from his sudden confession. His eyes bore into you, seemingly inching closer and closer; so close they’re all you can see, speckles of umber and teal that would usually go unnoticed becoming very prominent.

Somehow, he leans in even closer. Your mind blanks, throat parched and senses going into overdrive.

“Wait, Alhaitham—”

“No,” he interrupts, his unwavering gaze never once straying from you. “I refuse to wait any longer than I already have. I should have said this long ago when I realised our feelings were mutual, as opposed to waiting it out for so long.”

And then you hear it.

“I love you.”

“What...”

“If you need me to say it a thousand times over just so you understand, then so be it.” His eyes soften considerably, a smoldering passion now unconcealed and consuming you whole. “I love you, [Name]. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I’ll continue loving you for even longer.”

You want to respond. No, you have to respond. After years of showing your affections you finally received a clear response. You should be jumping in his arms and professing your love again! So why...

Why can’t you say anything...?

The pad of his thumbs gently swipe under your eyes, catching beads of tears you hadn’t realised were accumulating. The residue follows the path of his thumb, dampening your cheekbones as his hands slide to cup your cheeks.

“Are you backing out now?” he breathes out, a silent laugh puffing from his lips. “After all this time you’ve spent pursuing me, and you go silent when I confess my undying love for you?”

“Ah, no, I just... can’t believe it, I guess,” you respond sheepishly after regaining yourself. In a haze of excitement, you turn slightly to fist-bump yourself, his cupped hands following your slight movement. “Your efforts have finally paid off, [Name]!”

Just then, a small “Bfft” rings out. You blink and cautiously turn your focus to the man wearing a stoic expression in front of you.

“Did you… just laugh?”

“I didn’t,” comes his instantaneous response.

(A bright grin alights your face at that, and Alhaitham finds it hard to not kiss you right then and there.)

“You liar. You so did!”

“You’re just hearing things.”

“Yeah, because I just totally heard you turn your head in a failed attempt to hide that laugh—!”

Your words are muffled, swallowed and silenced by his lips on yours. An overflowing warmth seeps through the point of contact. It traverses through your body, now hyper-aware of every strand of his hair tickling your cheeks, to the pads of his fingers searing your skin, to even the faintest brush of his clothes against you.

His touch is warm and all-consuming — and you find yourself leaning in for more.

(Strange. You thought his lips would be a little rough, but they were actually quite soft.)

Slowly, your lips detach. He lingers and hovers over you, everything from half-lidded eyes to his lips brushing against yours consuming you whole. When you try to move back to cool down, he follows; an aimless pursuit for your touch.

“I think you talk too much,” he finds himself murmuring, mind still reeling from what just transpired. Your dazed blinks-turned-smile sets his heart alight at such an adorable sight only he is privy to, as he relishes in the warmth diffused from your cheeks to his palms.

“Hehe, but you like it though— let gwo obf my cheeks.”

In the midst of your complaints, Alhaitham grins, eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares at your puckered lips from his hands smushing your cheeks. How cute... he muses to himself, before planting a chaste, lingering kiss on your forehead.

“By the way,” he whispers against your skin, “your little act with Kaveh hasn’t been forgotten.”

“Uggh. You’re sho stingyy...”

“Hm, perhaps. But you like it.”

Alhaitham had never seen you with such a dumbfounded expression until now.

Mission Status: Who cares? You just won in life! (But also: success!)

“Ugh. They’re at it again.”

Aether and Paimon share a glance upon hearing Kaveh’s grumbles. They follow his line of sight to see what put the architect in such a state, only...

“Is that... Alhaitham?!”

Paimon’s cry earns her more than a few glares from researchers, scholars, and students alike, but that’s not the main issue. The main issue here is in a far corner tucked away in the House of Daena sits you and Alhaitham, the man in question pinching and tugging your cheeks as you try (and ultimately fail) to swat his hands away.

The travel duo had met you a handful of times. Within those few meetings, Aether had thought of you as someone sincere and resolute, whereas Paimon had deemed you as the “nice researcher with the tastiest food recommendations!”. And within those few meetings, never would they have guessed your relationship with Alhaitham.

“Oh?” Kaveh cocks a brow at their apparent surprise. “You didn’t know they’re dating? That guy is so obvious about it with how clingy he is.”

Aether hurriedly covers Paimon’s mouth before she could spew another set of cries that would surely put them in the bad books of the nearby occupants.

A beat of silence passes. A distinct murmur from your direction can be heard amidst the faint scribbling of pen on paper and the rustling of pages being turned. And then comes a sigh from beside them.

“Y’know, that guy’s been in love with [Name] for as long as I can remember, and probably even before then,” Kaveh starts, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at you quietly giggling away at something Alhaitham whispered. “He was so obvious about it too with his blatant favouritism. And even then he never outright acted on his feelings — that were very much reciprocated, mind you — until a few months ago! If it weren’t for me, this whole thing could’ve taken another few years!”

Aether and Paimon share another glance before focusing back on Kaveh and his seemingly never-ending rant.

“Honestly,” he huffs, head shaking in line with his exasperation and still in his own world, “I still have no clue what he’s thinking. For all I know, he probably just wanted to see how far [Name] would go; that smug bastard. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

While Aether awkwardly chuckles at the tagged insult, Paimon continues to watch your shared interaction in wonder — namely the smile which adorns Alhaitham’s lips.

“Wow. Paimon can’t imagine a guy like him being in love...”

Kaveh scoffs. “There’s no need to imagine it when he’s so blatantly love-struck right in front of us. However...” he trails off when you nudge Alhaitham, the new angle allowing the trio to witness him chuckling fondly at your action before placing a kiss on your cheek. A light sigh slips past Kaveh’s lips, “I’m glad they’re finally together.”

“Why so?” Aether asks, head tilting at the man’s change in tone.

“It was painful to watch.”

“Ah...”

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too-much-tma-stuff · 7 months

Text

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm.

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens.

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed.

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile.

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree.

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly.

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile.

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny.

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed.

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out.

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest.

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy.

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair!

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this?

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing.

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with.

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences.

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna.

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce.

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately.

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh.

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

#alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #danny phantom #jasmine fenton #dc x dp #fanfiction #finally getting help au #trans!danny #Danny is pregnant #damian wayne #casandra cain #implied sa #the fentons are bad parents #jason todd #eventual dead on main

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girlbeyondthegrave · 14 days

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THINGS I NOTICED WHILE WATCHING BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE AGAIN:

This is a very Beetlebabes-centric post, so if you don’t like the ship, please feel free to scroll away. <3

Beetlejuice cut Delores’ ring finger off, and while it was originally a fun joke in the first movie, there’s deep implications about that action when we look at it with the context of the second film. Beetlejuice attacked her after she betrayed him. Anyone would want to kill the person that poisoned them, but the fact that he took the time to find her finger and deliberately cut her ring finger off (and ONLY that finger) reflects how much that marriage meant to him. It also symbolizes that he’s effectively dissolving their marriage. He’s cut off the physical representation of their love and taken the ring, which he tries to give to Lydia hundreds of years later. He held onto that ring for centuries in hopes of finding someone he deemed worthy of it.

He calls his dynamic with Lydia a long-distance relationship, which could’ve been a throwaway joke if not for the fact that when he clearly notices how hot Janet is, he never talks to her or gropes her like he did with Barbara prior to meeting Lydia. Keaton said BJ wouldn’t be politically correct, so this isn’t to reflect the current political climate, but rather to reflect BJ’s motivations.

Beetlejuice was jobless at the start of the first movie, and in thirty years he’s built a company for his bio-exorcisms. Coupled with the picture of Lydia on his desk, it’s possible he did this to impress her. After all, she’s famous and rich now. BJ’s gotta step it up, y’know?

Probably overheard the convo between Lydia and Rory and deliberately bugged her at that time, because if he can possess the phone or whatever, he can probably use it to eavesdrop. This can be further supported by how he got rid of the influencers but kept the people that mattered to Lydia present—Delia and Astrid.

We can also assume he overheard the conversation where Lydia said that Rory loves her and that has to be enough because of the panning to a gravestone. BJ has a special fascination with graveyards, even tiny model ones. If he did overhear them, it explains why he used the truth serum on Rory. He’s testing him. He wants to see if this guy actually loves Lydia or if he’s using her, and then he gives Lydia the means to exact revenge on Rory rather than doing anything himself.

Lydia spends half the movie being strong -armed into a marriage with Rory, and in a way, it’s reminiscent of the first movie’s marriage attempt. Rory dangles their “love” in front of her like a carrot, and if she doesn’t want to be alone, she has to accept his manipulation and agree to get married. Yet she immediately offers it to Beetlejuice, only sounding annoyed rather than terrified. And the movie spends a lot of time proving that BJ has sincere motives this time around, whereas Rory doesn’t. It pushes an underlying message that if one of these guys is going to be a better choice, it’ll be BJ.

Despite Lydia having a tendency to back out of their deals, he still helps her first. He prioritizes saving Astrid even before finding his “runaway bride” again.

Casually calls Lydia the love of his life, looks so sincere when he says he’ll make her so happy. Clearly spent those 30 years planning that dream-dance sequence.

He doesn’t seem to care that Lydia’s sending him away. That coupled with the end scene illustrates how confident he is this time around. Lydia is still stuck with him, and even if he didn’t get her this time, he will eventually. But he also knows how spooked she is by marriage after being a snoop, so it’s possible that he’s just taking it slow on purpose.

In conclusion: Beetlejuice genuinely does want to be with Lydia and care about her. His feelings have evolved beyond permanent residence in the mortal world. If anything, if he still wants that, it’s so he can be by her side.

#beetlejuice #beetlelyds #beetlebabes #Beetlejuice beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x Lydia

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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 7 months

Text

Past, Present, ...

Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.

How much space is too much?

According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.

Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.

“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.

Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.

“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”

Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.

Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.

Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”

Ding.

Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.

Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.

She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.

Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.

Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”

Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.

Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.

Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.

The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.

The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.

The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.

“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.

“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.

Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.

It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.

“I-I don’t-”

Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”

A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.

Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.

Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.

Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.

The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.

Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.

In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?

Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.

The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.

“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.

Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.

“Perks of being an Avenger.”

“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.

“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”

Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”

Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.

Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.

She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.

Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.

Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.

She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.

“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”

Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”

Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.

“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.

“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”

Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.

Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with that.

The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.

Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.

Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.

“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”

Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.

Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”

Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”

Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”

Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.

“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.

She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.

Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”

Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”

Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.

Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.

“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”

Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.

“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.

Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”

After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.

“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.

“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.

“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.

Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.

Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.

Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”

“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”

Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”

Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.

“Don’t,” he growled.

Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.

“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.

Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”

If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”

It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.

Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.

“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.

Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”

Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”

Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”

The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”

“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.

Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.

Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.

The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.

Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.

There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.

He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.

“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.

A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.

The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.

“Where’s-”

Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”

Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”

“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.

Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.

“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”

Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”

Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.

Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.

“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”

Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.

Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”

He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”

Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.

“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”

Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”

She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”

Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”

The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”

Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”

Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”

“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”

He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”

“Huh?”

Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.

Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”

Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.

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