#<- this is always just an excuse to draw a pretty woman
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 21/34 - eggs benedict
[Read on AO3]
It’s strange, staying with Sheriff Adderly and his wife Ellen during this case in Vermont. If he had his way, he’d be checked into a motel instead of infringing on their hospitality, but he’d been given no choice. They even refused reimbursement for their troubles, which did nothing to lessen the feeling—however true or untrue it was—of him being a burden to them.
Ellen Adderly had pulled out all the stops for their guest, preparing decadent meals on fine china for every meal, claiming she’d have done it whether he was there or not. He has a hard time believing that. He can’t imagine living in such a way every day of his life. He and Scully barely manage to set out real plates to eat on when they order takeout at home, and he certainly doesn’t expect her to have a three course meal set out when he gets back from work. Besides the fact that she’s always at work with him, it’s just not something he thinks is necessary. Is that something she’d want to do? He doesn’t think so.
The routine they have works for them, that’s all that matters.
But after getting a taste of his own personal brand of domesticity, it’s… odd… to see how others do it. He’d never have thought there were so many different ways to balance home life, much less enough that he’d start to form an opinion on them. His parents had been one way—not a particularly healthy relationship—and he and Scully are… well, they’re not really anything besides roommates, but that still counts, in his book.
Whatever they are, he likes it. Far better than this constant fussing, at least.
Mrs. Adderly must notice his discomfort, because at breakfast as she masterfully puts the finishing touches on his eggs benedict, she says “I get the feeling you're not used to anyone taking care of you,” and for some reason, that assumption grates on his nerves.
He takes a measured draw from his cup of steaming coffee, swallowing back his immediate retort.
“What makes you say that?” he asks instead. She probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but it still comes off as rude. He has someone to take care of him, thanks very much. Just not exactly in the same way as Mrs. Adderly insists on taking care of her husband… and apparently Mulder too.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen says, realizing her statement had come out somewhat offensive. “I just mean… I didn’t see a wedding band.”
She nods at his left hand sitting atop the table, and he follows her gaze to the bare ring finger.
“Do you have a significant other, Agent Mulder?” she asks.
Significant? Yes. Very. Other? That’s a good descriptor. Single, married, other. Yeah, he’d select other, if this were a multiple choice question. Although he’s pretty sure that’s not what she meant.
“I’ve– um…” he starts, wondering how best to describe his situation to this woman. “I’ve got a wife, actually.” He pulls out the ring on its chain to show her. “It can be dangerous in my line of work to have it on display,” he explains lamely before tucking it back into his shirt.
Ellen smiles. “Ah, well that’s good. Don't miss out on home and family, Mr. Mulder. I imagine with all the things you see, you need that refuge more than most.”
Her words hang in the air, a bit of sage advice from a woman he otherwise has very little in common with. But before he really has a chance to think about what she’s said, Sheriff Adderly makes an appearance, and it’s back to business. Ellen excuses herself to go check on their daughter, leaving the two of them alone to discuss the case.
Mulder remains seated at the table, staring down the sheriff with a knowing look. He’d begun to suspect—and now his suspicions are all but confirmed—that the man had been unfaithful to his wife, and it makes him feel sick. Here this man has it all; a loving wife, a sweet baby that they didn’t have to jump through a million hoops to get, and yet he’s willing to throw it all away for some cheap thrills.
He’ll never understand it.
The man is no more forthcoming about his knowledge of the case than he had been before, so Mulder lets it slide for now. The last thing he wants to do is show all his cards too early and spook him. He gives him just enough to leave him rattled. To let him know that he knows .
He lets the unspoken threat hang between them until the sheriff folds, squirming away to take a shower, or so he says.
He’s still seething in bitter disgust when Ellen returns, carrying her sleepy baby in her arms. It’s a well-practiced juggling act, Mulder can tell, as she goes about fixing herself a plate of her now lukewarm breakfast. With only one arm, she clearly struggles to transfer strips of bacon out of the pan, and Mulder gets to his feet.
“Here, let me help,” he says, joining her in the kitchen. What he’d meant was that he could help assemble her plate, but as he goes to reach for the spatula, he instead finds himself being handed a baby, and his eyes widen comically. “Oh, right,” he says, then plasters a forced smile on his face. Sure, this was what he’d meant to do all along.
The little girl is heavier than he’d expected. Like a sack of flour, though with limbs jutting out everywhere. It takes him a moment to adjust, his hands holding her awkwardly beneath the armpits.
“Hi,” he says conversationally, looking down at her like she’s a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. The baby just blinks at him, a blank stare on her face. “Okay,” he mutters to himself, lifting her to his hip and returning to the table. He makes every effort to not look like this isn’t the first time he’s held a baby in—well, basically forever, but he’s not sure he succeeds.
Ellen smiles across the table at him and digs into her meal.
“Do you have children, Agent Mulder?” she asks, “You and your wife?”
It still makes his heart flutter to hear someone refer to Scully as such, but he supposes that to Ellen, it really is that simple. Scully is his wife, that’s all she knows.
He’d always thought conversations like this to be so dull. ‘So, Dave, how’s the ol’ ball and chain? Kids staying out of trouble?’ But, now…
Well, it’s different now that he actually has something to contribute to the discussion.
“Yeah, actually, one on the way,” he says, giving a self-conscious little smile.
He’s never told anybody about this other than Skinner, but he supposes there’s no harm in telling this random woman in Vermont. It almost makes him feel… normal. Like he can relate to other people over the simple fact of his impending fatherhood. A shared human experience. A milestone in his life that doesn’t involve aliens, ghosts, ghouls, or any manner of cryptozoological entity.
“We’re adopting,” he further explains. “Only a couple months left till the birth mother’s due date.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Ellen exclaims, smiling up at him over her bowl of fresh fruit. “You must be so excited!”
“Very,” he says, looking down at the drooling baby on his lap. “We never really thought it was possible. That we’d ever—”
He pauses, the shrill tone of his cell phone breaking into their conversation.
“Speaking of my wife,” he says, flipping open the device. “Hey, Scully. How’s the stakeout going?”
Her voice crackles over the other side of the line, drawing a genuine smile out of him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that, Mulder, so that I can give you the good news I just received.”
His stomach does a flip. “Good news?”
He pictures her nodding, sitting in that grimy, cold room surrounded by surveillance equipment, somehow brightening it with her smile. “Krista called and we had a little chat.”
Mulder looks up at Ellen from across the table, where she’s watching him with a knowing smile. “Oh?” he says.
“Mm-hmm. And you know what she told me?”
Scully is extra cheeky this morning, huh? He misses her horribly. This is the last time he’s letting Skinner split them up for a case. After this, no more. He’s putting his foot down. What are they going to do, fire him?
“What did she tell you?” he asks, turning to instead stare at the floorboards, giving himself the illusion of privacy despite the constant watch of Mrs. Adderly.
“She told me the sex of the baby. Would you like to know?”
His heart thumps in his chest suddenly, its rhythm erratic. This, he hadn’t expected first thing in the morning. He hasn’t even finished his first cup of coffee yet.
“She finally found out?”
“Yeah, Krista said she was a lot more cooperative at this appointment than the last one,” Scully explains.
Mulder freezes.
“She?” he says, his voice raspy with awe. “It’s a girl?”
He hears Scully release a shuddering breath before her voice comes back, with all the telltale signs of happy tears that he’s come to recognize in the last few months.
“It’s a girl,” she confirms.
It’s a girl. He’s gonna have a baby girl.
“That’s– that’s amazing, Scully! That’s… wow!”
“I know,” she says. “I’m– You’re not disappointed, are you?”
“Disappointed?” he asks, furrowing his brow. “Why would I be disappointed?”
Disappointed is the absolute last thing he’d be feeling right now. Elated is a better word. Maybe a little scared, but he’ll get over it.
“I don’t know, I just thought… You know, you talked about coaching little league, and I’m sure you want someone to watch basketball with you…”
He laughs. He can’t help but laugh. “Just because you don’t like basketball doesn’t mean other girls don’t,” he says matter-of-factly. “And have you seen girls softball teams, Scully? They’re brutal. You try getting hit by one of those giant neon yellow ostrich eggs at 50 miles an hour. I volunteered to practice with the girls once in high school. Almost lost an eye.”
“But what if she doesn’t like sports at all?” Scully asks, and he’d bet good money that she’s chewing on her lip right now, the way she does when she’s worried. “What if she’s on the chess team or plays the violin or the piano?”
Oh, Scully.
“Then I’ll learn all the names of her concertos and cheer her on at every chess tournament,” he answers simply. “Look, Scully, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and I are both gigantic nerds. I think we’ll be prepared for whatever she’s interested in when she gets older.”
She . They can finally stop talking about her in abstract terms. A girl. A daughter.
“Your mom’s gonna flip,” he says when she doesn’t respond. Margaret Scully has a grandson, but no granddaughter. He can just see the little plaid dresses, frilly socks, Mary Jane shoes, and giant velvet bows in their future. She’ll be spoiled rotten.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Scully says, sounding wistful.
“Me too,” he agrees. “When I get back, we’re going out shopping again. I think maybe this time I’ll be able to hold it together in the clothes section.”
That earns him a laugh.
“I’m willing to bet it will go the same way as last time,” she teases back, and she’s probably not wrong. Just picturing this baby, a little girl like the one he’s holding now, has him emotionally on edge.
“I– I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he says, glancing up at the clock. “Let the thought of warm baby snuggles keep you from freezing your butt off.”
She sighs, the annoyance of her less than ideal assignment returning. “Thanks for reminding me, ” she intones.
They stay on the line a moment more, waiting to see who will be the one to hang up. Eventually he hears a soft click, and he smiles down at the phone in his hand. Goodbyes have never been necessary between them. Maybe that’s just another way they’re weird, but he likes it.
The baby in his lap gurgles, and he sets his phone on the table to turn his attention back to her. He sees her differently now, with the knowledge that he has a little girl on the way too.
“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Ellen says, eyes shining as she watches him.
Mulder feels his cheeks beginning to burn. “Oh. Thanks.”
“No, really,” she says more insistently. “You seem to care a lot already. And wanting to be involved… Well, that’s everything. Your wife is a very lucky woman.”
“I’m the one who’s lucky,” he says, and he truly believes it.
He’s the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.
~~~
wife guy / girl dad mulder says you get another chapter :)
Chapter 22/34 - pizza boxes
The sound of keyboards clacking fills the dimly-lit room. A greasy bag that once held at least a dozen cheap tacos from the place across town sits atop a stack of empty pizza boxes, not that the inhabitants of this particular abode pay much attention to that kind of thing.
“Hey, here's something weird,” Langly says, looking up from the computer monitor, the unnatural light of it reflecting off his glasses.
“What? Is it Krycek again?” Frohike asks, crossing the short distance to lean over the other man’s shoulder. “What’s that little rat up to now?”
Langly adjusts the bright, warm-toned desk lamp to minimize the glare on the screen.
“No, just something strange in my sweep of government records,” he says.
“Mention of a virus? Shadow government stuff?”
Langly shakes his head. “It flagged a document mentioning Mulder and Scully's names.”
This bit of information piques Byers’ interest from across the room. “What agency? Homeland? DoD?” he asks, joining the other two at Langly’s computer.
“County court in Annapolis, Maryland,” Langly reads off the screen. “Dated December 24, 1999.”
“Open it!” Frohike demands impatiently.
It takes only a few seconds to hack the database, which is a little alarming. What would the public think if they knew how insecure county records are? But that’s a concern for another day.
The document slowly appears on screen, and three pairs of eyes take in the information all at once.
“That's… unexpected,” Byers says.
“Married? Since when?” Frohike exclaims.
Langly looks up at him with a condescending glare and smacks the older man in the stomach. “Since Christmas, idiot, haven't you been paying attention?”
“Not that, stupid,” Frohike says, quick to respond with a slap to the back of the blond man’s shaggy head. “Since when are they an item? Did I miss something?”
“You seen a rock on her finger lately? I haven't,” Langly comments.
“Get Mulder on the phone, that little sneak owes us an explanation!” Frohike snaps, pointing a finger at Byers.
The phone rings a few times before it connects, the voice of their friend coming through on speakerphone.
“Now's not a good time, boys,” he says. There's some kind of noise in the background, someone speaking, but they can’t make out who it is. It doesn’t sound like anyone they know.
“Mulder!” Frohike yells into the phone. “What gives, man?!”
“Yeah, bro, we'd have thrown you a bachelor party if we'd known,” Langly adds.
A sigh crackles through on the other end of the line, and Mulder murmurs something indistinguishable to someone before finding somewhere quieter to talk.
“How'd you find out?” he asks, sounding annoyed.
“Your marriage license record came up in one of our regular sweeps. No other threats, by the way,” Byers answers.
“Except maybe Frohike,” Langly jokes. “He might want to challenge you for her hand.”
Byers snickers.
“Shut up! I'm happy for them,” Frohike says, glaring at his friends.
Langly rolls his eyes. “You never stood a chance.”
“There's an explanation for this, I swear, now's just really not a good time,” Mulder says, insistent.
“What's there to explain?” Frohike asks. “You guys fell in love and got married without telling your best friends. No big deal.”
He’s not genuinely trying to guilt trip Mulder, but it does sting a little that they hadn’t said anything to them. Maybe just a little tiny guilt trip. A guilt excursion, if you will.
“It's not… really that simple,” Mulder says, his words hesitant.
“What do you mean?” Byers asks.
“I know you didn't knock her up, obviously, so what more is there?” Langly says, as delicate as a brick to the face.
“Well,” Mulder says, “I kind of did, in a manner of speaking.”
“Scully's pregnant?” Byers asks. This is shocking news. It should be impossible! “But—”
“No, Scully's not pregnant,” Mulder quickly corrects before the conversation can spiral out of control more than it already has. “But… we are expecting, actually. Hopefully.”
“IVF?” Byers asks.
“Not IVF. We tried that last year though, you're a little late to the party.”
Jeez, what haven’t they missed? Maybe the real conspiracy is whatever the heck is going on with Mulder and Scully.
“Then, what—?”
“We're adopting,” he says, interrupting them. They can almost hear his smile over the phone, all goofy and care-free. “There's a woman that selected us to adopt her baby when she’s born, so… I'm actually at this class for new parents with Scully right now. I should probably be getting back. Don't want the teacher to flunk me.”
“Wait wait wait,” Frohike says. “Adopting? How long have you guys been… you know?”
“Well we only started talking about it back in November. It's honestly moving pretty fast, but we're excited.”
“Not that,” Frohike says, waving his hands in the air. “You and Scully!”
“Oh,” Mulder says awkwardly. “Um, we actually aren't. A couple, I mean. If that's what you're asking.”
Frohike’s jaw drops. “You're kidding.”
“No, I'm not.”
“But you're married!” Langly insists.
“A formality.”
“The IVF!”
“Favor for a friend.”
“Yeah, right!” Frohike says with a laugh, sharing a disbelieving look with the other Gunmen.
“You love her, don't you?” Byers asks, sincerity breaking through his friends’ incredulity.
“If you're just gonna harass me, I'm going to hang up.”
Okay, so he’s done sharing for now. They’ll just have to try to get more out of him later.
“Mulder… what are we going to do with you?” Frohike asks, shaking his head.
“Listen, guys, I've got to go. We're learning how to change a diaper and I'd really like to not make a fool of myself, if at all possible.”
“Wait,” Frohike says. “Tell Scully congrats for us. We're happy for you, Mulder.”
“Yeah, we just think you're a complete idiot too,” Langly adds bluntly.
“Thanks, guys. We're really happy. Sorry I haven't been around, it's been crazy.”
Well, now at least they know why Mulder has been missing their poker nights and D&D lately.
“Don't worry about it, Mulder. Just—maybe tell us what's going on next time?” Byers suggests.
Mulder puffs out a laugh. “Sure, next time I marry my partner with the purpose of adopting a child, I'll let you know.”
Frohike points seriously at the phone, despite the fact that Mulder can’t see it. “Watch it, buddy, you're already on thin ice.”
“I'll talk to you guys soon,” Mulder says. “Oh, and if you're ever looking for me, I'm staying at Scully’s apartment now, by the way. I gave up my apartment.”
“Dude…” Langly says. There's something seriously wrong with those two.
“Alright, I gotta go. I'll tell Scully you say hi.” And with that, he hangs up, leaving the three amigos to take in everything they’d just learned.
“Aren't a couple…” Frohike grumbles, repeating his words. “They're a couple of idiots, I'll tell you that.”
Byers nods his agreement, and Langly shrugs.
“Lucky kid, though.”
~~~
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear
#msr#txf#x files#xf fanfic#mulder and scully#my fanfiction#fox mulder#dana scully#of our own making#ooom#msr adoption fic#adoption
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finally finished this girl from a while ago
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megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader
tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.
ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.
gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"
gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"
gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"
honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?
he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?
apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.
he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.
while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.
his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.
and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.
he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—
"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.
while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"
oh.
gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.
megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.
"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.
you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."
gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.
"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.
your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.
"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"
"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.
the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.
you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.
he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.
"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."
this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.
gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.
"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"
just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.
"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"
nice.
"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.
you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.
megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"
"shut it, kid."
#m!writes#im trying to get better at writing shorter fics#so bare w me#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk imagines#gojo imagines#gojo satoru imagines
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I have. SO MANY THOUGHTS about toxic codependent sibling relationships and the parallels between Haya & Ghazan and Suiren & Midori, and I really want to write a meta analysis digging deep into the depths of it all but it’s half past 4 a.m and my brain barely functions, so for now here have a Haya-related meme I made:
#no you don’t understand I’m actually starting to feel for and sympathise with Haya what the fuck have I done#no a shitty childhood doesn’t excuse her actions but still. I can’t stop thinking about angsty gutpunchy concepts about her#but she’s on the receiving end instead of the other way round#it’s like that asoue quote#‘you must understand. he had a bad childhood’#‘I do understand. I’m having a bad childhood right now’#just… the development journey I took with Haya was so completely unexpected#originally she just existed as a fill in for the Ghazan’s older sister role that’s 66% canon#barely characterised. vague mentions of her being slightly apathetic but not bad#then I wrote the flashback in chapter 3 of sotrl which featured Suiren remembering how Haya taunted her about her parents’ imprisonment#not in detail or with any dialogue. just a statement that it happened#that’s when things took a turn for the worse#I don’t really remember when I decided Haya was downright abusive not only emotionally but physically too#I think I just realised that suiren wouldn’t be the way she is if her guardian was even halfway decent#and this Haya the way she is now was born#and I always knew that she had a less than ideal life starting since again. she raised ghazan so smth must have happened to their parents#but it was pretty vague up until recently when I decided I wanted to write or draw something from her POV#and everything took shape and I started coming up with more and more angsty ideas#and somehow ended up humanising her. making her more than just an abuser who hurts for the fun of it#she’s a deeply broken woman whose obsession with protecting her brother drove her to a lonely and bitter existence once her brother left her#who takes all those feelings of hurt and anger and betrayal out on the living proof of what said brother abandoned her for#she’s a prime example of what happens when one person doesn’t realise that their codependency became one sided#and when that same codependency is cut off with no prep or warning#in a way… she’s a haunting mirror to who Suiren might’ve become#and that just adds to the tragedy of it all#okay it is nearly 5 a.m now so o shall be going to bed lest I end up dead inside at my grandma’s tomorrow#i’ll expand on this later#byeeeeee good night))
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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)
warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)
word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)
note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)
jjk masterlist
You had a great life, as far as it went.
You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much.
Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?
“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration.
“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed.
“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!”
You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side.
“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw.
“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!”
You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before.
Life was great, for the most part.
As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on.
For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.
Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market.
“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact.
You were terribly in love with her brother.
You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes.
Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in.
The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there.
“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got.
“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive.
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color.
He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip.
It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you.
He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason.
He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread.
It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week.
“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.
“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse.
“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.”
Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.
“I’ll be there.” You promised.
For better or for worse, you’d be there.
---
The ball was just as you had imagined it.
Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded.
One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact).
Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match.
You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him.
Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious.
The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore.
“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate.
“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress.
“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you.
“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional.
“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”
“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument.
For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him.
“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something.
Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you.
Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one.
“Looking for something?”
A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you
Him.
“Oh!”
Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great.
“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”
You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in.
He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic.
His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend.
Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core.
You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.
“So…?”
“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”
“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it.
“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended.
You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy.
“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage.
“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side.
“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey.
Fuck, you’re never going to get over him.
“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks.
“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him.
“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”
“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies.
“I-”
“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment.
It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions.
And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try.
You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it.
---
“I despise men!”
You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour.
“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head.
“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”
“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next.
“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”
“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him.
“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”
“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut.
“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly.
“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,” she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”
“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder.
“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry.
You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle.
“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her.
“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you.
“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure.
“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
You wish the sofa could swallow you whole.
“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence.
“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”
Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth.
“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself.
You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him.
“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour.
“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides.
“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward.
“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”
He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses.
“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer.
“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over.
“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”
Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself.
“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his.
You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor.
“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything.
“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out.
The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm.
“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but.
It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything.
Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer.
“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.”
And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature.
“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright.
“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up.
“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe.
“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”
You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement.
“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”
“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct.
“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more.
“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?”
You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference.
All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them.
“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation.
“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him.
“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”
The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you.
“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did.
“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”
Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her.
A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman.
“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.”
You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature.
“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head.
“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”
And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;
Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you.
---
“Miss,”
You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door.
“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”
Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning.
“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month.
“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply.
Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers.��
“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip.
Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-
“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction.
“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring.
It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer.
His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you.
“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”
“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric.
“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”
You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek.
“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?
“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess.
“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit.
“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors.
“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?
“What was Cornwallis doing here?”
You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results.
“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then.
His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied.
Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother.
“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole.
“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”
“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient.
“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise.
“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation.
“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face.
“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you.
You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen.
“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?”
You stopped computing his words.
“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding.
“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good.
His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love.
Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness.
---
You should have said no.
The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was.
Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow.
Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much.
Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.
You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now.
“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be.
“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.
“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people?
“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could.
“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”
You wanted to shove him to the ground.
“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin.
“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize.
You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead.
The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was.
Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting.
“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes.
“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap.
“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist.
“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances.
“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well.
“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.
“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense.
“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements.
“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea.
“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes.
“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him.
You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.
“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it.
“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru.
Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart.
You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.
You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily.
It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off.
“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him.
“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her.
“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness.
As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him.
“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside.
“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it.
“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones.
“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth.
“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”
“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you.
“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now.
“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation.
“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.”
Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband.
Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun.
And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic.
“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…”
You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you.
“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk.
“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?”
You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning.
If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed.
“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!”
Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would.
“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger.
“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”
You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so.
“What’s your issue?”
You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you.
“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it.
“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least.
You feel like your head is about to explode.
“I just-”
“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it.
“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears.
“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late.
“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!”
You took a deep breath and began.
“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise.
“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.
“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened.
“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features.
He finally remembers.
“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you.
“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them.
“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him.
“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come.
For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows.
---
The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough.
To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain.
Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic.
“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen.
“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”
She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”
She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone.
Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior.
Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you.
Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing.
They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you.
“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her.
“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window.
“I’m making sure you didn’t.”
Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer.
You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone.
“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice.
“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”
“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes.
The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits.
You’re not sure you could do that now.
“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent.
“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”
You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug.
“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”
“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”
You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction.
“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?”
She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something.
“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it.
“I swear.” She repeats gravely.
You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends.
“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”
Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away.
“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.”
You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse.
“What?”
She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall.
“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”
---
Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe.
You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility.
The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount.
The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it.
For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit.
Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down.
You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him.
“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer.
“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.
In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea.
“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer?
“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?”
Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother.
“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”
“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.”
She drank some of her wine.
“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son.
“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply.
“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”
You could swear you heard a tooth crack.
“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him.
“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”
“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth.
“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded.
“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place.
“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”
You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days.
“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”
You felt your heart tumble.
“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner.
“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”
You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life.
You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room.
Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options.
You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked.
It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside.
It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you.
You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box.
You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it.
They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.
Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you.
A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope.
Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open.
“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you.
You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build.
“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted.
“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?”
You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps.
“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame.
“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters.
“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back.
Which just made you want it even more.
You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands.
“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you.
He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest.
Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter.
“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.”
Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words.
“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.
But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now.
If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you.
“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something,
“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”
You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them.
You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him.
He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it.
His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest.
You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling.
He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you.
It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning.
Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you.
“Viscount Gojo?”
The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door.
“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes.
“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.
“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them.
You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions.
“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”
You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried.
“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.”
You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left.
You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner.
---
A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it.
It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil.
Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened.
She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it.
“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed).
“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”
She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name.
“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name.
“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?” You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him.
“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face.
“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”
“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue.
“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name.
“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either.
“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head.
“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it.
“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard.
“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn.
The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you.
“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.”
You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks.
“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.”
You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup.
You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep.
With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.
“Do you need help with that?”
You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed.
Ella was never going to hear the end of it.
You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck.
“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart.
You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours.
“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.”
Oh.
“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.
You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see.
He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you.
“Read it.”
You certainly weren’t expecting that.
“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-”
“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.”
You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst.
“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-
“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you.
“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…”
“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them.
You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away.
“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled.
You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands.
“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected.
The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel.
You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology.
“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.”
His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you.
“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box.
“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you.
“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart.
He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality.
“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart.
Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing.
He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip
It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible.
It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it.
Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt.
“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.”
You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory.
“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought.
“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon.
He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment.
But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue.
You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do.
“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to.
“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him.
Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you.
Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it.
“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear.
His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels.
“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.”
You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him.
“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.”
At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself.
So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind.
“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this.
You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance.
You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most.
“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him.
“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further.
He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there.
He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal.
“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!”
“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?”
He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out.
“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.
It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth.
“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist.
You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey.
“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan.
“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm.
“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.”
“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest.
“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.”
You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets.
He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning.
Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was.
“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest.
“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose.
“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.”
You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth.
“Do you promise?”
He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours.
“Promise.”
#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x you#gojo x you smut#gojo x reader angst#gojo x you angst#gojo x y/n#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojou x reader#gojo satoru imagine#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#bridgerton!au#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen imagine#satoru x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo x y/n fluff
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needles - tara carpenter
Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader
A/N: A little drabble bcz god knows we need it in this drought
“But baby I don’t wanna!” You whine, gripping Tara’s arm and burrowing yourself into her.
You feel the vibrations of her giggle before you can hear it, that silent wheeze that belongs only to your girlfriend.
“I know you don’t want to, but it’s good for you. I promise i’ll be right here.” She mummers, trying not to draw attention to the two of you.
You’re sat next in line for a vaccine shot, and although you know it is good for you, you hate needles.
“Ugh. God really gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” You announce dramatically.
Tara smirks just the slightest; and you poke her in the sides.
“Is this really your toughest battle?” She teases.
“I’m just a girl.” You grumble, heart picking up as the nurse gestures that it’s your turn.
“You’re speaking in brain rot right now.” Tara muses, gripping your hand in an attempt to calm you down.
Bless her, it doesn’t.
When you finally get in the seat you swear sweat is dripping down your face. The nurse gives you a small sympathetic smile.
“Not good with needles, dear?” She asks, cleaning her supplies.
You chuckle nervously, embarrassed but relieved that the nurse acknowledged it.
“A little.” You say, and slap Tara when she lets out a snort.
“Is this your girlfriend?” The nurse asks again, not unkindly.
You beam, looking over at Tara. She’s as pretty as ever, her long brown hair messy because of the wind.
“Yeah. I’m the luckiest girl in the wor- ah!” You yell in surprise, feeling a prick at your arm. You don’t dare look down.
Tara stifles another chuckle, and you send her a glare.
“Sorry about that sweetheart, I find distraction helps most people with Trypanophobia.” The woman says, rubbing your back.
“Aaaand you’re all done. Good job.” Tara whispers as you stand up, a little shaky.
“Stay here for 15 minutes. If you feel nauseous or weird, come find me immediately. If you’re all good, you can leave.” The nurse instructs, nodding for the next person in line to come up.
You nod adamantly, trying to convey that you’re really listening to her. You focus on her eyes, she has really pretty eyes, big and brown like Tara’s.
You feel a little tug at your waist and feel Tara dragging you back a bit.
The both of you find a seat somewhere close to the hospital, arms intertwined.
“Don’t you think that nurse was kind of cute?” You ask mindlessly, thinking back to the scene.
Tara raises an eyebrow, but her little smile tells you she isn’t annoyed. She’s amused.
“I guess. Not really my type.” Tara sighs, moving in closer to you.
She takes her pointer finger and places it on your bottom lip, getting a hitch from you.
“My type is sitting right in front of me.” She says, voice dropping a few octaves. You know what she’s doing, she loves to tease you like this. You’ve always had a weak spot for her voice.
You flush bright red, gulping.
“I only thought she was cute because she looks exactly like you.” You squeak, trying to get yourself out of trouble.
Tara grins, obviously comforted by your statement. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
She leans in and presses a faint kiss to your lips, tender. She tastes like that Willy Wonka Chocolate Lipbalm you’d convinced her to wear. It doesn’t taste like chocolate.
You laugh against her lips, and she pulls back with a rather big frown.
“You taste yucky!” You say, playfully.
“Excuse me, i wasn’t the one who wanted to wear this.” She banters back, tackling you in a tickle.
You wheeze, tapping her back. You give up way too easily.
“Okay, okay! Fine, it was my fault.” You admit, idea sparking in your head.
“But, I know just how to fix it.” You whisper, and before Tara can ask you, you swipe your hand against her lips gently, taking away all the flavored balm.
You lean down and press another kiss to her, and she just about melts into your arms.
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my husband is a curse
Summary: having a husband like Mark Lee seems like a curse, where he is too powerful and you will be left with nothing after this marriage.
Pairing: toxic possessive husband Mark x trophy wife Reader
WC: 3k
Warning: heavy dubcon/noncon elements (don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable), drugging, infidelity, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding, oral sex, squirting, toxic marriage, idk what else
a/n: Mark is an major douche and you’ve been warned, again.
He comes home late, again. And the smell of alcohol is too strong for you to ignore. But what’s harder to ignore is the fresh blooming hickey on the juncture of his neck. One that you didn’t give him.
You clutch your hand tight and nitpick the soft skin on your thumb. Forcing a loving smile despite how heavy your chest feels right now.
This routine has been going on for quite some time now – a year perhaps. You’ve lost track of how many nights he will come home smelling like another woman, give some petty excuse he got roughed up at work when there are love bites scattered all over his body, how he will dodge with a petty excuse of showering you expensive gifts, and how you took all of that kindly. Dumb, loving, and naïve.
After all, you are his wife. Your love for him has made you endure it all, accepting the hurt that lingers beneath the surface. The word itself catches in your throat. Yes, you still love him—the piercing gaze of his dark eyes, his pretty boy smile that could melt your heart, his everything. But this—this is where you draw the line.
“Where have you been?”
You still sound doting—to say the least. Your nurturing and caring nature overpower the pain that consumes you.
"Just out with the boys... grabbed a few beers, love," he responds, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.
It would have been a sweet sweet gesture if he didn't carry the scent of another woman, tarnishing the moment.
You are far from naïve. Before becoming his prized trophy wife, you were an accomplished surgeon. That's where your paths first crossed, when he wavered at the edge of death and you mended him. Love blossomed in the midst of chaos, ensnaring you in this pitiful predicament.
"Did you miss me?" He questions, drawing you closer for a hug, his chin resting gently atop your head.
You delicately pull away, overwhelmed by the lingering aroma of another woman that fills your nostrils, causing a disorienting wave of dizziness. Your lips press into a thin line, revealing the hurt etched upon your face.
"Gone for a few nights and returned with those marks on your neck, huh?" You finally snap, determination evident in your voice. This is the breaking point, the line you can no longer ignore.
Mark freezes for a second, but smiles fondly. Like you are some lunatic spewing nonsense. You never voiced anything for so long so why now?
“Baby, what are you talking about?” He chuckles and removes the few strands of hair on your face, then gently caresses your cheek.
“It’s nothing.” He says with a sickeningly sweet smile.
God, it hurts.
“Nothing?”
You echo, your face all scrunches into a frown. You will not buy that bullshit again this time, no. Nights of being in denial that your marriage was savable has already gone down the drain. You can’t keep being an actress in your own home anymore. You can’t keep letting him always have everything in his way. But you also can’t let go of him, let go of your marriage.
Having a husband like Mark Lee seems like a curse. Where he is too powerful and you will be left with nothing after this marriage. But you already have nothing – you only feel nothing. Your lack of warmth alarms him a little so he kneels in front of you and grabs both your hands.
Those eyes again.
Eyes that you once loved – now playing tricks on you to hide his own selfishness.
“Yes baby, nothing. You know how work can be demanding sometimes.” He says, offering a loving smile as if all is well, as if you were still in the midst of a romantic novel.
You know those marks are not from work but you smiled. Letting it go. You know deep down he is too prideful to admit his mistakes. You know you will never hear the words ‘I'm sorry’ from him.
“Alright.” You pull your hands from him. His touch is all too burning.
He grins, probably thinking you are too easy to manipulate. But in truth, you know everything, yet you let yourself cling to the threads that maybe. Just maybe. There is hope. He leans in again, pressing his lips to kiss yours this time.
You do not reciprocate it. There is no reason to. You already packed your bags and are ready to run away from him, run away from everything this morning and die quietly somewhere.
So you pull away.
"I'm tired," you manage to say, forcing yourself to meet his gaze and conjure a smile. However, your tears betray you, cascading down your cheeks, leaving trails of sorrow on your rosy complexion.
Mark sees through your facade. "Baby, what's wrong?" Concern lacing his words.
"Just tired, that's all," you reply, evading the truth—tired of this marriage, tired of his infidelity, tired of him.
"Alright.” He responded simply.
There's an emptiness in his eyes that sends shivers down your spine. It's disconcerting, how a man like him can shift from being a loving husband in one moment to wearing a vacant expression the next.
"Don't be angry, baby. I promise we'll go on vacation for a week, okay? You've been longing for that beach getaway," he suggests, attempting to appease you.
"I'm not mad," you assure him, and by the heavens above, you mean it. Anger has long since evaporated within you, leaving only pain and suffering for your weary heart and mind.
"Good," stepping closer, his hands rubbing up and down your arms in a feeble attempt to comfort. "If I've done anything to hurt you, I'm sorry. You know how much I love you,"
"I love you too," you respond, yet deep down, you question the sincerity of those words. You feel like an empty shell, a mechanical entity trapped in a pitiful routine perpetuated by his unfaithfulness.
“I prepared your bath. It's gonna run cold.” This is the last time you’d do that.
Your words elicit a smile from his lips as he hums in agreement. "A bath together sounds lovely."
Turning your face away, you contemplate the situation, weighing your options.
"Come on, it's not like we haven't done this before! Please, baby?" he pleads, pouting in an attempt to sway you.
The audacity.
"Alright," you respond stiffly, masking the turmoil within. You ascend the stairs, making sure to double-check that the other room where your bags are packed remains securely locked. Finally, you enter the sanctuary of the private bathroom within your shared space.
This night will mark the end. You repeat the words silently to yourself, resolute yet burdened by conflicting emotions.
Mark follows closely behind you, his hands carefully cradling an exquisite bottle of wine as he raises it for you to see. “You love this wine.”
He approaches from behind, enveloping you in his comforting warmth, his hand tenderly caressing your belly as the other skillfully undoes the zipper of your dress.
The coolness of the bathroom causes a shiver to ripple through your body, but his kisses on your shoulder offer you solace. “Let’s take a bath together. What do you say, hmm?”
With each article of clothing removed, he peppers your shoulder and nape with affectionate kisses, seeking your agreement.
You say nothing and the lack of response infuriates him. But that's okay. One thing Mark will never do is to hurt you—well at least physically. He could not bring himself to do so. He loves you.
Gently grasping your chin, he guides your faces together, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "Right, love?" he implores, yearning for your acknowledgment.
"Fine," you answer dismissively, acquiescing to the moment, and step into the inviting embrace of the bathtub. Mark sheds his own garments, joining you in the warm water. Your back leans against his chest, finding comfort nestled between his thighs.
He delicately grasps the bottle of wine, pouring a generous amount into his glass. "Let's share, my love," he murmurs, his eyes filled with affection.
With a swift sip, he finishes his drink, refilling his glass and tenderly pressing it against your lips. Reluctantly, you part your mouth as he urges you to taste the wine. A few droplets escape, trickling down your chin. "Oh, we can't have that," he laments.
His fingers firmly grip your chin as he leans in and playfully licks away the spilled wine. "There, perfect," he whispers, his voice laced with temptation and sweetness.
Yet, despite his alluring words, you remain silent. Deep within, you know that no amount of sweet talk can erase the pain he has caused you.
Your silence begins to worry him. "If it's my demanding schedule that troubles you, I'll change it. I'll change everything for you, baby," he pleads earnestly.
A soft sigh escapes your lips. "You can't change, Mark.”
In that instant, the room falls into silence. You are right, of course. His empty promises hold no weight. He has used every excuse in the book to justify his infidelity. Weariness and suffocation envelop you, stifling your very being. And so, you rise from your seat.
But as you stand, a sudden dizziness overtakes you. You hadn't consumed much alcohol—just a single glass—which should be insufficient to make you feel drunk.
“About time," he murmurs, understanding dawning in his eyes.
As you slip in the bathtub, Mark's quick reflexes save you from a potential fall. His chuckle fills the room, followed by the warmth of his arms enveloping you lovingly. He presses gentle kisses against your back, his lips conveying a mixture of playfulness and affection.
"You thought I didn't notice the bags you packed in the guest room?" His voice filled with knowing amusement.
Your voice and muscles feel weak and tired, reminiscent of a long day spent under the sun at the beach. "Please, let me go, Mark," you manage to say, your words tinged with exhaustion.
A note of finality seeps into his response. "No," he declares firmly. "You can't simply leave me... I love you, and you know that."
With a small flicker of consciousness, you open your mouth to speak. "What have you done..." your words trail off weakly.
"Don't worry, my love," he reassures you, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. "It will only make you more pliant, like a good girl for me."
Your lower belly tingles with an unexpected warmth, but you resist it. No.
"I understand I have my faults as your husband," he confesses, his tone softened. "But don't worry. The other woman is no longer a concern."
He... what? Did the fucker kill her?
"Mark—" you begin, but he interrupts you, his voice filled with urgency.
"No one else can come close to you," he insists. "No one can ever replace you."
"Then why?" you whisper, confusion etched in your voice.
"It's just old habits that die hard," he chuckles, devoid of humor. A heavy sigh escapes him. "My love for you is real, don't doubt that. I've taken care of her and all of them already. It's their fault, not yours, baby."
His kisses trail down your spine, culminating in a gentle bite on your neck. "When I saw you packing your bags on the camera, panic consumed me," he confesses. "I had to travel 16 hours just to get back home in time."
"I needed to ensure you were still here... Not that you could escape anyways," he adds, a hint of possessiveness creeping into his voice. "Shadows always surround this place when I'm gone. I have to protect you somehow."
Summoning the last ounce of strength within you, you push him away, breaking free from his grasp.
"Hush, my baby, it's okay," he soothes, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. His breathing becomes heavier, you can feel how hard he is at your ass.
He carries you towards the bed. Wetting it with your bodies. When he releases you, he grabs you and forces you onto your front. Mark gives no time for you to adjust. The bedsheets run coarse against your soft skin, your thighs rubbing the skin of your pussy.
“Mine.” He pulls you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs widely. His thick fingers find your hole. With neither warning, he plunges three of them into you. And you let out a silent scream.
It’s been so long since you guys did it–no. It's going to hurt.
He reaches deep inside and feels you convulse against him. “That’s right, my sweet wife. Think you can give me one, hmm?”
With experienced fingers, he keeps hitting the soft spongy spot deep inside you. He kneels, eyes transfixed on how you swallow his fingers. Then, suddenly, he enclosed his mouth on your engorged clit and sucked, hard. You scream in pleasure, legs shaking and you squirt– wetting the sheets. Mark dutifully laps at your folds, drinking your juices.
He pulls away and slaps your cunt. Hard. Earning a whine from you. “That’s for thinking of leaving me behind.”
Your eyes water.
“Shhh” He groans. “You little minx know how to make me feel guilty. I’ll give you that.” He gently wipes your tears away.
“I love you, baby–always do.” He stand on his full height. “And I will remind you how much I do.”
Mark pushes forward, stretching you further than his fingers have prepared you for. It doesn’t hurt, but the burn of the stretch sears through to your lower abdomen. Strong arms keep you from escaping, the solid wall of muscle holding you steady as his cock works you open inch by inch.
You are thankful that he stills for a moment. But that doesn’t last for long. With practiced ease, he grips the backside of your thighs and pushes your legs towards your chest. Bending you in half as his strong hands pin you. He pulls away and pushes in slowly. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Then drags it out slowly till only the head is left.
“Tell me you love me.”
You try to blink the tears away and open your mouth. Yet no words come out.
“Tell. Me. You. Love. Me.” He punctuates every word with deep thrusts.
You gasp a ragged breath, and his grip locks down on your throat like a fucking vice, cutting off your oxygen. Then without warning, he rams hard, fast, bullying your poor cunt. You feel your eyes roll back as they are filled with overwhelmed tears, a bit of drool trailing down your chin as you sob out moan after guttural moan, and then he adjusts his angle slightly and hits your g-spot with every thrust. Then when you are so close, he completely still inside you.
“No…” You whine.
No, you want him to continue…
No, you want him to stop…
You were not sure anymore.
Then he starts moving again. Slow, deep, rolls of his hips this time. “Come on baby… Say the words and I’ll let you cum.”
This angle allows him in so deep, each pass stretching your walls, bliss batters into your core. Rough hands paw at your breasts, pinching your nipples while you fist handfuls of the bed covers, fingers twitching as you try to hold onto the remaining shreds of your awareness. You are smashed into the mattress by his weight. Rough, primal noises huffed with each ragged breath.
“I love you…” Fresh tears prick your eyes.
It pains to admit it but you really do. You still do.
“Yes… Fuck!”
He fucks you faster and harder. “Maybe I should fuck a child inside of you, yeah?”
Your eyes widen.
“Keep you full of my cum everyday so you can’t escape me.”
A child would be the last thing you want from him right now. Not when your relationship is so shaky and hopeless. Yet here you are—helplessly pinned by his battle hardened body. But in your blissed-out state, you are too far gone to mind in the slightest.
Your vision blurs and your ears ring as the blood rushed away from your head to other areas that demand more. Your swollen and overstimulated clit smashes into his pelvis each time he pounds into you, accompanied by the low, rough grunts. A sense of weightlessness washes over you, as you become nothing but a ragdoll to be fucked by your husband.
"Fuck, I'm cumming."
He grunts, the sound tearing out from deep within his chest. His cock twitches inside of you, flooding you with sticky warmth that mingles with your own fluids. You are breathless as he pops out of your well-used hole, his hot cum leaked from you. He is transfixed by the sight of your pussy and how it clenches to drip his cum down the sheets, already feeling himself hard.
“Now that won’t do.” He pumps himself a few times and manhandles you to lay on your stomach. “We will make lots and lots of babies forever. Right, baby?”
#mark lee smut#mark smut#nct smut#kpop smut#nct 127 smut#nct u smut#nct dream smut#nct scenarios#nct fanfic#kpop fanfic
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Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader
CW// Possession, Obsession, Yandere Behavior, Jealousy, Suggestive Content, Gaslighting, Maddox has a housewife fetish (16+)
Masterlist
When Maddox first saw you hiding in your wardrobe after having killed your Father he was shocked to see such a pretty woman inside. He knew your Father had a daughter but he didn't know she'd be a fierce and beautiful young woman.
Maddox knew he had to have you. No way was he going to leave you in this bumfuck town in the middle of no where. You're too valuable.
He ties you up and takes you away from your hometown. You're his now so he's taking you with him wherever he goes. Having a pretty little accessory like you will give him bragging rights after all.
He takes you to saloons while he plays cards with his buddies. Has you sit still and look pretty on his lap while he drinks and plays. His friends say dirty things about you. Commenting on how submissive you are for Maddox. Maddox eats their comments up like a full course meal.
"You boys wish you had this fine piece of ass. But she's mine."
When you're at his temporary house he has you play housewife. You cook his food, clean his laundry, and most importantly you take him like a good girl and let him use you to pleasure himself.
"You like that yeah? You don't? Then shut your pretty little mouth n' take it anyway. Don't make me mad now."
But over the course of a few months and after spending more time with you he sees you less as an object to brag about and more as a companion. He sees you everyday so of course he develops feelings. Feelings he denies of course.
"You think cus' I'm being nice lately you can just skip doin' laundry? Well you've been a good girl this week so I'll let it slide... But you're doin' it tomorrow! No excuses!"
Maddox takes you to the saloon with him again as usual. This time the sexual comments his friends say make him see red. He draws his gun and shoots them all dead where they sit.
"I should have never let em' say that vulgar shit bout' you. Shoulda never let you in that shithole in the first fuckin' place. C'mon, we're goin' home."
Fucks you gently this time and prioritizes your pleasure over his. You're so cute mewling beneath him. Praises you instead of degrades you.
"You can take it princess, c'mon! Don't tell me to slowdown when I can feel how good you feel on me. Yeah that’s it, good girl. Doin’ so good for me… Ya’ feel divine~"
He slowly starts bringing you into town less often. When you ask why you can't come with him he simply says that you're safer at home.
A month goes by and you're tired of being holed up in his house. So you take the risk and leave while he's taking his afternoon nap.
Bad Choice….
"You thought you could leave me?! Baby I love ya', I really do but sometimes you're real fuckin' stupid."
Locks the doors, windows, and always has his eye on you. When he has to go out he keeps you tied to the bed by the ankle.
Every night he holds you close to him. He's a light sleeper, he'll feel if you move and try to escape him. If that happens he'll embrace you in a nearly bone crushing hug.
He’ll wrestle with you if you try and fight him, but he’ll never strike you. He’d never do that after seeing the abuse his Mother endured from her customers at the brothel.
Comes home one day with two golden rings. He wears one and forces the other onto your ring finger. It's a perfect fit.
"You're my wife now and I'm your husband. You'll address me as such, got it?"
No wedding, no priest, no judge, no documentation. He says you're his wife now and that's that.
"There's names engraved inside the rings.? That's just the name of the jeweler I got it from... Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
You two never get to settle down. You hop from one abandoned home to the other. After all he needs to always be on the run from the law. It's a stressful but exhilarating lifestyle. Danger lurks at every corner.
Loves calling you by his last name. Though your last name is still legally L/n; Maddox says that since you’re his wife you have his last name. After all you two are wearing the rings to prove it!
"Thank you for the meal Mrs. Graves, God you're perfect. Where have you been all my life?"
He adores your body. Doesn't matter what body type you have. Chub? He's kneading it with his hands while he praises you like the goddess you are. Insecure about how the outline of your ribcage is visible? He traces his fingers down to your tummy and then goes even lower... He can't keep his hands off.
Favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and just press your backside against him while you do chores. It feels so domestic and it makes him feel like he isn’t a wanted criminal for a moment.
Kisses? He loves to kiss you! His favorite spots are your ankles, tummy, and forehead. And your lips ofc!
Whenever you have to slip your stockings on he swats your hands away and does it. He’ll pull them up sensually and slowly, trailing kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he does so.
“Your skin’s so soft princess, just wanna take a bite. You’ll let me right?”
He loves animals. His horse Jasper is his best friend. Jasper won't let anyone ride him except for you and Maddox. Anyone else gets thrown off and stomped on.
Since this is the 1800’s people don’t really bathe as often. But Maddox is different. He can’t stand having grime on him for too long after you called him stinky once. So now he bathes more often than most. And you bathe with him too. You have no choice in the matter.
“Mmm love it when you wash my hair sweetheart… Ya’ fingers feel like heaven..”
Maddox is a tough guy. He's taken bullets, stabs, you name it. He even survived a hanging once. If anything happens to you he'll fight God himself just to keep you safe. Even if it costs him his life.
"GET YA' MEATHOOKS OFF MY WIFE YOU FUCKIN' ANIMALS!"
Tells you he loves you everyday. And if you don't say it back? Well he'll just bug you until you say it. After your "marriage" he doesn't really punish you anymore. You’re his partner for life, you deserve the world.
Respects women. His Mother worked in a brothel so he witnessed how men mistreated women. He could never do that to you... Even though he did early in your relationship. But he'll never admit that! Bring it up and he'll call you crazy.
"Sweetheart I never harmed a hair on your head, quit talkin' nonsense."
Teaches you how to fire a gun just in case. Hopefully you'll never have to use the skill though.
Spoils you whenever he can. Maddox has a decent amount of money but it's still pretty tight. Buying you things isn't an option because being on the run means you need to have minimal baggage. So he treats you to dinners and cute little dates.
Overtime you get used to this life. You forget he ever even killed your old man.
Anyone is free to request anything! Don't be shy! I'm hyperfixiating on this oc so I'll happily write anything for him. As long as it isn't blatant NSFW :-)
#yandere#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#obsession#headcanons#yandere headcanons#maddox graves#western#fem reader
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Exchanged clothes [S. R] Bolinus brandaris part. 2
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 4.6k
part 1
summary: a small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession
A/N: Okaay, some people showed interest in a sequel to this and I thought I'd do it, I hope you like it enough. Oh and we are still with baby Spencer, later I will write about the second and third seasons (and as I progress in the series, lol)
taglist: @the-ginger-draws @skievers @c-m-stuff
The days passed, the cases continued, and the level of trust in the friendship between you and Reid only grew. Working at The Behavioral Analysis Unit was complicated and exhausting in many ways, which sometimes made you wonder how he managed to put up with all that, because, although you weren’t an old woman, you did have two years more experience compared to him. It's also not like it was your fault that he was a genius and he went to work for the FBI at an extraordinary age. So every time something happened, you were there for him and he was there for you. The whole team really cared about the two of you (and JJ, the third youngest) while still trusting in your abilities to face challenges. And just like in a family, everyone could also notice the existing tension between you and the doctor, because although, at least on your part, the feelings had been there for a long time, they had become more obvious to the rest since of the trip to Miami.
"Good morning" you had greeted part of the team that day, a few weeks after the trip, more energetic than the others would have expected. Neither Hotch nor Gideon were around, for obvious reasons, so it was only when you passed Reid's desk that you stopped, running your hand affectionately through his hair “Hey, Doc.”
"Hello," he responded immediately. Spencer didn't like it when his hair got messy, but he could take it if it was you, just as he could take your constant hugs or the drawings you sometimes made on his hand when you were bored during meetings. Of everything that happened between you, little managed to bother him, almost as if the interactions he avoided with others were something natural with you around.
Although he had stopped wearing his scarf daily, he still wore it at least once a week as a reminder of how special it was to him, and fortunately that day was the chosen one.
“Do we have a case? Or do I just bury my nose in these reports?” you muttered to the others, but they denied "What of that do you say no to?"
"Today they will be documents" JJ spoke kindly.
"Why do I have so many?"
“Because I passed you some of mine,” Morgan sneered and you gasped, completely offended. You whispered something accusatory in his direction that made Spencer laugh from the next desk, and then he reached over to take just under half the folders.
"I will help you"
"Oh no, no, Reid. It's okay,” you said, your voice softening noticeably, as you placed your hands over his to try to stop him.
"It's nothing, I'll finish them in a jiffy"
"Why don't you ever offer to help me, huh?"
“You manage pretty well on your own,” Spencer teased at your friend, now making you laugh. You still had your hands on his under the excuse of collecting your reports and, perhaps unconsciously, both of you postponed the moment for another few seconds, looking into your eyes with a small smile until he finally managed to keep the material that he had stolen from your desk.
"Thank you," you said, so softly that only he could hear you.
Looking at your coworker had already become something of an obsession. You liked his gestures, how he looked away when he spoke, his nervous ramblings, and the straight hair that he apparently was letting grow, but what you liked the most were his hands. When he was explaining a profile, he always communicated a lot with his body language and honestly, the swaying of his hands, combined with the tranquility in his tone of voice, was very hypnotic to you, as if keeping the attention of others was something inescapable for him, although it was probably easier to keep your attention specifically. Right now, while everyone was minding their own business, you were watching sideways as he ran his middle finger over the printed lines. It made you nervous to see the delicacy with which he moved across the sheet of paper and inevitably your mind traveled to inappropriate corners related to that movement, which embarrassed you to the point of blushing. Thank heavens he was too focused to notice you, so you forced yourself to work on the few reports Reid had let you keep.
The days were very rare when no cases appeared, but you were grateful that they existed because sometimes it was necessary to take a breather. Seeing so many bodies, so much blood and so much inhumanity was something you never quite got used to, although having good teammates in your unit made it more bearable. So that night nothing stopped you from finishing right on time, with a little back pain from sitting all day, but also quite calm.
"I'll see you tomorrow, rest"
"Are you going to your apartment?" Spencer asked, rushing towards you with his coat in hand and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, and you nodded Can you wait for me to go together?”
You looked at him, more confused than you wanted, but you said yes. It's not that you were upset or that you didn't want company, but that you were curious as to why he might have offered to do it.
"Thanks again, for earlier," you said, once both of you were outside. You lived a few streets from the office and you could get there in less than 20 minutes by taking a subway station, which fortunately was the same one he took.
“Okay, they were too many for you. I mean, it's not that I think you can't do the job, you're very capable, it's just that I thought it was too much workload for just you and I… well, I could help you so I did it” with that Reid held up a hand to downplay the matter and smiled at you.
“Why have we never thought about walking to the subway together?”
"I don't know either," he said. You felt a gust of wind hit the both of you so you hugged yourself to try and get some warmth and even though Spencer wasn't the best at reading social cues he managed to figure out what you had and what he needed to do
“Here” he murmured, as he spread the coat and put it on your shoulders.
“Oh no, no, no, Reid. I'm fine"
"In fact, if you don't use it you can catch a cold and although there are very few cases in which there are complications that lead to death, the symptoms last about a week and you can infect several people during the first days, so you not only you would be taking care of yourself but also the rest of the team” he informed you. That made you smile, and you found that behind all his scientific mumbo jumbo, he was trying to take care of you.
"It's a little big on me," you laughed, reaching into the sleeves with some help from him.
“You look pretty” he blurted out from his lips, completely entranced by you “Well, the… the coat. It looks good” he tried to fix, but you laughed at the compliment that you definitely wouldn't pass up.
"Aren't you cold?"
“No, my shirt and vest help,” Spencer replied, showing you the long sleeve of her white shirt. “I also have my scarf, did you forget it?”
"The best choice in all your outfits" you joked, reaching out a hand to feel the soft fabric of the garment and looking at him, with that cute shy smile "What will you do when you get to your apartment?"
“Huh, probably get some sleep. I haven't been resting properly in the past few days."
"Nightmares again?" you sadly asked. Spencer had talked to you superficially about it a few days ago, although you thought that he had suffered from this disease for much longer than he wanted to admit. He didn't answer verbally, he just nodded his head and you thought he didn't want to delve into it “I think I'll spend a while in the bathtub and then I'll sleep. I'm exhausted"
“You close doors and windows before you sleep, right?”
"I do," you assured him.
“Do you also take your cell phone with you to call in case of emergencies?”
"Huh, yeah"
"Good. Take care of yourself” he insisted. Those didn't sound like random recommendations and that puzzled you a bit.
"I do, Reid," you replied softly. When you noticed that the concern in his features did not leave him, you thought it would be prudent to ask him why that was "Are you worried about something?"
"No, it's not that" he hastened to answer. You still had a few blocks to go to get to the subway and only a few passers-by walked the streets, besides you.
“Are they unsub then? Anything in particular that worries you?"
"It's nothing like that. It's just…” he gasped, still unsure to continue, “if I tell you, you'll think it's silly”
"Of course not. Tell me, what is it?" you asked. He was internally debating if he should tell you what he was thinking and he was convinced a little when he felt your hand on his arm, as if prompting him to speak.
“Yesterday I…” he started to say “I had a nightmare. I dreamed when I arrived at the office I found out that something bad had happened to you. And… I don't know, it felt very real and I couldn't get it out of my head” he admitted. You understood that perhaps it was the reason he had wanted to accompany you, as if he feared that someone might stalk you on the way.
“Spence” you murmured gently, as you pulled him a little in your direction to place one hand on his bicep and the other on his forearm “Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. My apartment complex has a good security system and I always carry my gun, if something happens on the street, I will know how to deal with it. They're just bad dreams, I have them sometimes too” you said to reassure him. You felt quite comfortable walking in that position and you continued a couple of steps holding him like this, looking for some negative sign from him, but it never came. With the closeness he managed to feel a little less fear, reminding himself that what tormented him were fantasies of his own mind, that if they were analyzed with a little more detail they were an unconscious reflection of how much he feared losing you.
"I told you it would be silly"
"It is not. It's quite sweet, actually,” you smiled, moving your thumb up and down as you smiled at him. In that position your face was at the height of the boy's shoulder and it was enough for him to turn his head to reach your forehead, so he wondered how much you would bother if he left you a kiss there. He wanted to, but held back.
“I just thought I should tell you. For you to be careful"
“Same to you, Reid. You have a rather peculiar ability to get into trouble” you exclaimed accusingly, because in a couple of cases the man had already managed to get on your nerves.
The position turned out to be cozier than you expected and you continued walking the rest of the streets towards the subway in silence. He concentrated on the feeling of your body so close to him and your hands gently holding him, while you lost yourself in thought wondering what you really felt about your coworker and what he felt for you. Spencer would look at you from time to time, analyzing your gestures and enjoying the sight of you wearing his clothes, something he didn't think would affect him the way he did.
“Did you know that railway suicides have a very small percentage in the country's suicide rate?” he told you, while the two of you looked at the subway tracks that you were waiting for. You had had to distance yourself to be able to pay the pennies for the ticket and you had decided to place your hands in the pockets of your borrowed coat, caressing the lining fabric with your fingers.
"I had no idea" you muttered. You were a little surprised that he always had an interesting fact about literally anywhere you were and you loved hearing him tell you “It must be horrible. And very sad"
"Even the government allocates certain resources to pay for psychological therapy for drivers who witness these suicides"
"Well, at least it comforts me to know that part of my taxes ends there," you joked bitterly and the train stopped just as you finished saying it. Reid let you first into the nearly empty car that would take you home, and along the way you continued to talk about less unfortunate things, like the dinner choices you were planning or the TV shows that were likely to be airing when you arrived.
Having those little quiet moments with him made you feel lucky and the laughs he managed to get filled your chest with joy, making you completely forget everything related to work. The voice in the wagon warned that your stop was next and an anticipated sadness invaded you.
“Be…”
"Be careful, I know" you smiled. Since you were already on your feet, so as not to miss your stop, you crouched down to give him a quick goodbye hug “See you tomorrow. Try to sleep and if you have nightmares you can call me, okay?" you muttered. He nodded from his place as he watched you leave towards the platform and leaned out the window to see your figure disappear into the distance.
Neither of you two realized that you had kept his coat until you got home.
As of that night, that coat returned to see the doctor's closet on very few occasions and the purple scarf went on to have joint custody. He had found out that if he loved anything more than wearing the clothes you gave him, it was seeing you wearing them, causing him to come up with totally pathetic excuses to accomplish that.
"It's a bit cold" "Purple matches your clothes" or simply "keep it, it looks better on you than on me"
It soon became a habit. During the cases, when you two were apart, it was a little comforting to have something of him with you and when he came home, he would enjoy breathing in the smell of your perfume impregnated on the fabric.
After a few weeks you realized that, without a doubt, you were so in love with him. And when he realized the same thing, he was completely terrified.
“Reid” you greeted him one morning, catching up with him as he poured himself a coffee and analyzed a piece of bread that had surely been sitting there since the day before. Hugs when seeing him had also become a habit, quite nice from the man’s point of view "I have something for you"
"Again?"
"Oh yeah," you smiled. Lately you had been filling him with small gifts and most of them quite rare, but which he kept suspiciously in his desk drawer. And it's not that he didn't appreciate it, but that he was beginning to feel guilty for receiving so many and not having given you any yet. "Give me your keys," you asked and he obeyed without even questioning you. Once you had them in your hand, you took a strip of colored beads from your pocket that you added as a key ring, while he looked at you with some confusion.
"What's that?"
“My friend asked me to babysit her daughter this weekend and we went crazy with crafts. So I thought I'd do this to you” you muttered. He took a closer look at the keyring and noted that you had included his favorite colors, purple and green, as well as a heart-shaped bead at the end. "I know it looks like a preschool kid's creation and if you're embarrassed to wear it you can throw it away”
"No, I like it. It's pretty,” he smiled, running his long fingers over the beads. Satisfied with the answer, you took out your own keys and proudly showed them to him.
"I have one just like it," you said happily. That was true, only yours was made of pink and blue, and the way you said it completely touched the man.
"You make me think that there is still goodness in this world, you know?" he exclaimed, so sincere and without thinking that he surprised you "I loved it, thank you very much"
"Now that I think about it, it's like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer camp”
“I never went to a summer camp”
"I don't know why I'm not surprised" you laughed and would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for Hotch's interruption.
“We've got a case. Conference room in 5”
Sometimes you forgot that the real reason you were there was the criminal profiles and not seeing Spencer Reid every day.
You just woke up one morning and knew you had to tell Spencer how you felt about him. As you said before, Spencer seemed to have a special magnet for trouble and proof of this were the cases in which he had to perform dangerous tasks that you knew no one else could do. When he had to get on that train with Ted Bryar you'd gone crazy and last week when he'd watched that cult boy on Massanutten Mountain threaten Reid with a gun you decided you'd had enough.
He had expressed concern for your well-being on multiple occasions, but what about his? Didn't you have the right to care about him just as much? every time he came back you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and whisper in his ear if he was okay, to maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks. But every time he came back you just cheered with the rest of the team and barely had contact with him beyond a squeeze on the shoulder and a sincere: I'm glad you're okay.
So you thought that if you wanted to have that kind of privilege over others the only alternative was to profess your love to him in the hope that he would feel the same way and you could work something out.
Spencer, for his own part, also had his epiphany and as much as he tried to avoid it he ended up asking Morgan for advice, who was the only person he thought would be suitable to talk about this kind of subject. Surprisingly, Derek behaved discreetly and really gave the doctor valuable elements to understand one of the few sciences in which science was almost obsolete: love.
Going back to recently acquired habits, walking together to the subway was another one of them. Sometimes this was interrupted because he or you stayed longer than the other, but except for those cases it was a regular activity.
So that night, when you two were walking to the station, your mind was immersed in remembering the speech with which you planned to tell your friend.
"You're very quiet today," Reid observed, taking you by surprise. In a few months he had already learned very well some traits that indicated that something was wrong with you.
“Sorry, I… I have a few things on my mind,” you apologized, but Spencer didn't know what to say because he also had his own things on his mind. He was desperately searching for a way to put into words what he felt, but he kept wondering, could that be explained? All attempts at reasoning became useless with you near him, maybe that's why he couldn't think of how to tell you "Reid, I don't think I've ever asked you, but have you ever had a partner?"
"Like… couple?" he asked, trying to make sure you were referring to the same thing he thought.
“I know it sounds weird, but it just… made me curious,” you exclaimed, shrugging and then crossing your arms in an attempt to comfort yourself. Reid fondly watched how your arms were on that purple scarf and felt a little motivated to speak.
“Huh, in that case, yes, something like that. I dated two people when I was in school, but it wasn't anything serious, just a few kisses” he explained to you and you failed to contain your laughter, maybe because of the way he had explained it. Spencer blushed to his ears and smiled reflexively at your smile. "Don't tease!"
"I don't" you defended yourself. Another person walked down the sidewalk and he reached out his arm to move you protectively in front of him, so when you came back to his side you took advantage of the distance between you, to the point where your shoulder brushed against his arm.
"And you?" he asked after a while of silence "Have you had many boyfriends?"
"The truth? not so many. With most of them I lost interest after the first date and the others left me when they found out I was in the academy. Apparently armed women aren't very attractive” you smiled. You had asked about his romantic history, and incidentally talked a bit about yours, only to open the topic and somehow feel that your confession would not be so out of place.
“There are studies that indicate that women take longer to fall in love than men, perhaps that is why you lost interest quickly. For you it takes about 6 or 8 dates to decide if you want something with a person, because you are more selective and better analyze personality traits in men. But they only care that the girls are… well, pretty” he murmured, with a smirk “On average it takes women 134 days to fall in love while men only 88”
“How long have you and I known each other?”
"It must be like... a year and a half now" he exclaimed, mentally doing the math "Why?" he continued legitimately confused. For the genius that he was, Reid was naive at times.
You looked down at him and for a second thought that even with those bags under his eyes and the stubble he hadn't shaved, Spencer was the most handsome man you'd ever met. Not receiving an answer, he looked at you and was surprised to see the sparkle in your eyes.
"Okay, can we stop here for a moment?" you asked. You knew you were probably going to chicken out if you didn't say it right then, even if that closed beauty salon you were standing in front of was an unromantic place. "I need to tell you something”
You had said it with determination, but once you were face to face, your mind went blank. You panicked: how were you going to tell him? What was the right thing to say? What reaction did you expect?
But Spencer, noticing the silence, decided to be the first to speak.
“Noradrenaline is a neurotransmitter that produces excitement and effusivity, increases heartbeat, blood pressure, causing sweating of hands and flushing. High dopamine levels generate a need to be with the person that releases it and is related to serotonin, which generates well-being, optimism, social closeness, and reduces discomfort and anger. Phenylethylamine makes everything more intense, makes us feel more motivated and optimistic and finally, oxytocin is the love hormone par excellence, it occurs when we have a bond of trust with people or when we feel a strong attraction. Sometimes it is also released when we embrace the reason for our affection” he had said that so hastily and waving his hands, that he could only show how nervous he was. He inhaled to catch his lost breath, then finally made eye contact with you, taking a moment before continuing, “What I'm trying to say is…you make me feel all of that. You alter my chemistry in ways I've never thought of and… and I… go all goofy and don't know what to say…”
"Spencer" you interrupted him "You mean you like me?" you asked gently, because you knew that when he started to wander sometimes you needed to bring him back down to earth. Reid looked at you tight-lipped and nodded slowly.
You were silent for a second, trying to process what he had just told you, and he got even more nervous than he was.
“But I think that after all this what I care to know is… if you feel the same way. Or in the worst case, if you think you might feel something like this”
“A total chemical mess for you?” you exclaimed amused. One of your hands went to his and you gently held it, taking a step closer to him. “I'm sorry, Reid. I feel it every time I look at you, that you hug me, every time I give you those silly gifts and see the smile on your face. Everything in you causes me that"
"Are you serious?" he asked, wanting to be completely sure what he was hearing. You laughed and wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
“Of course I do. Before you said all that I was racking my brain trying to find a way to tell you how I felt."
“Did you know that this is a phenomenon? There are those who call it the tuning fork effect, which is when two people connect the same idea at the same time, almost as if they had been thinking at the same frequency.”
You chuckled and buried your head in his neck, letting go of his hand so you could hug him properly. He wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his head in your hair, willing to say nothing more for fear of ruining the moment. All the fears you had had were being buried with that contact, because now you had the certainty that what you felt was mutual.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, just listening to the gentle beating of his heart and enjoying the sense of security that being in the man's arms made you feel.
"I really like you" you broke the silence, with a whisper, making him smile.
"I think the most logical step from here would be to ask you out on a date, no?" he muttered. You pulled away enough to look at him, but still leaving your arms around his shoulders.
“I don't want to have to wait. Let's go for a burger"
"Don't you prefer somewhere more... formal?"
"Leave formal places for proposals, handsome," you said in a playful voice, caressing his cheeks with your extended palm and he made a mental note that this Italian restaurant he was thinking of inviting you to would be the ideal place to ask you to take the next step, when the time was right.
“I still have to take you on at least 6 dates, to be sure”
"Fuck the statistics, I don't need that burger to know I'm in love with you," you said and he grinned from ear to ear.
“I know a place with an excellent health label and organic food, it is a few streets from here”
"I follow you" you answered cheerfully "On one condition"
"Which?"
"Let me hold your hand," you asked softly and Reid wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, leading you to the restaurant that way.
And at the end of the night, when you stole a kiss from him, he couldn't have felt luckier.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#jason gideon#JJ#penelope garcía
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Secret Love Song || LH44 x Russell!Reader
Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age-gap, degrading kink, praise kink, sub!lewis
Wordcount: 1.4k
“Oh, fuck. Just like that, baby” He moaned from above her. His hands were tangled in her hair as his back was pushed up against the door of his drivers room
“Your lips feel so good around me” He couldn’t stop praising her, even though he knew she was gonna be in charge when they got to her place after the race later
“Fuck, you look so pretty like this; saliva dripping down your chin, red cheeks, my cock in your mouth” His body was starting to sweat as he twitched in her mouth
“Just like that. Fucking hell, I’m gonna-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence before he shot his hot loath down her throat
She stood up as she swallowed his cum. He zipped his trousers back up before kissing her tenderly “I’m gonna return the favour when we get to your place after the race, okay love?”
“If you win” She kissed his cheek before leaving the room. They both managed to get back to the others without being seen leaving his drivers room
“Where were you?” George asked her with a hint of concern in his voice
“I was just at the bathroom, no need to worry your pants” She chuckled as she walked over to him
“I’m just looking out for you” He said with soft eyes
“George, I’m 20, you don’t need to look out for me anymore” He had always protected her through out their childhood, he was worse then their parents
“You’re right. I’m sorry”
Normally after her and Lewis had fucked or she would have sucked him off, they would be clingy with each other. Her lips would be all over him. On his lips, cheek, neck, throat, chest, stomach, anywhere they could be, they would be
But they couldn’t this time. Nobody knew they were together, and god forbid they ever told anyone, her brother would absolutely destroy him, both on and outside the track
I wanna kiss you so bad rn
She heard the ping of the message she had sent across the garage. She looked over to Lewis who had picked up his phone. He looked over at her before typing
I want to kiss you too love, but you know we can’t <3
She knew it was true, but what if they fucked with the rules? What if they stood in the corner and it was just a little peck before going back to talk to people they were talking to before
Win the race and my lips will be all over you ;)
She smiled as she sent the text. She looked over at Lewis who was blushing hard. He was talking with Bono who looked confused at him
She could hear their conversation, but she guessed Lewis’ excuse for his slightly red cheeks would be something like it was hot in the garage
It gave her some kind of rush, knowing she was the only one to draw this kind of reaction out of him
It also made her folds wet, but she would never dare to tell him that
She spend the rest of the day in the garage, sending him texts with either different kinds of praises, promises to fuck him when he wins, or wishes about the two of them
You’re always doing so good for me
You better do good on the track, Hamilton
I’m gonna fuck you dumb when you win
I’m gonna fuck your brains out
I wish you could hold me in your arms
I wish you could kiss me before your race
Every time she sent a text, she looked over at Lewis who would just blush harder every time, if that was even possible
Her brother had questioned her multiple times who she was texting, but she would always say it was one of her friends
Like wise did he ask Lewis, who said it was either his parents, his neighbour who was sitting Roscoe, or one of his friends
Stop sending me all those text love
Why? I can see you like them <3
She looked over at him, eyes went down to his slight boner in his trousers
You drive me crazy woman
At least I fuck as good as I drive you crazy ;)
He won the race, of course. I mean, if he hadn’t my won, maybe he wouldn’t get to fuck his teammates sister
“You need a lift home?” George asked her
“No thanks, George” She didn’t give him a reason why, but he brushed it off like he was used to it
“You did so good, baby” Her hand was on his inner thigh as he drove them to her apartment. His breath was heavier as her handed hockey closer to the place where he needed her the most
“Thank you, love” He said, his words almost getting caught in his throat. Her hand started stroking his thigh, making him harder by every stroke
They had barely entered the apartment when Lewis was all over her. His hands on her waist, pulled close to him as his lips were on hers and her hands were on his ass, squeezing him every so often
“Fuck, I want to return the favour, love” His lips traveled over to her jaw
“Then get to the bedroom, Lew” Her hands traveled him to stroke his sides
“No, I want you now” He backed her back so her ass hit the dinning table “Please” His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting her up on the table
“Lewis, we should go to the bedroom” He had already gone to his knees as she spoke
He didn’t listen to her words, he instead proceeded to pull her closer to the edge of the table. He lifted her skirt up, giving him access to pull down her panties as she bucked her hips
She gave in, and let him do what he wanted to her. He threw her panties the floor beside them before spreading her knees, giving him more access to her cunt
He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder before darting his tongue out to lick through her folds
She moaned at the contact between his tongue and her clit. He flicked over it with his tongue as he entered her with on of his fingers
As her moans started getting loud, he inserted another finger “What wouldn’t your teammate think, huh? If he knew how you fuck his little sister” He hummed at her words giving her extra pleasure
She bucked her hips into his face, grinding on his tongue she came close to her orgasm “Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good for me” Hs Eleanor’s her head back, rolling her eyes into the back of her head “Fuck, I’m gonna cum”
A few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of his tongue, and she came around his fingers. He rode out her high before pulling out of her and standing up
She got to the ground “The bedroom, Lew” He kissed her quick before going to the bedroom
She chuckled at his eagerness. She walked into the bedroom, seeing him already stripped naked and laid on the bed
“Good. You’re already ready for me” She smirked as she walked over to him
“I’m always ready for you, love” He said pulling her into his lap. She pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra. She threw them both to the floor
She spit in her hand, and started stroking him slow. She lined herself up with his cock, slowly pushing him in making them both moan
“Fuck, you always fill me up so good, Lew” She smirked as she started moving. She loved hearing his moans and whimpers coming from him
“You sound so pretty” She kept praising him as he started bucking his hips up into her, meeting her thrusts
He gripped her hips tighter, slamming her down onto him. Both their moans were loud and heavy as they came closer to their orgasms
“You feel so good around me. Fuck, love. I fucking love you” He spoke between his moans “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum, fuck, please”
Her fingers went to her clit, circling it between her fingers. Her actions pushed her closer to her orgasm
“Cum for me, baby” He came into her, holding her down onto him. Him coming into her, sent her over the edge, coming around him for the second time today
She pulled off of him, going to the bathroom to get a damp towel to clean them both up. She laid down beside him, scooting close into him under the duvet
“I love you” He sighed holding her close kissing her forehead
“I love you too” She kissed his chest laying down hearing his heartbeat
#smut#dom!reader#formula one#lewis hamilton#Lewis Hamilton smut#Lewis Hamilton x reader#Lewis Hamilton x reader smut#Spotify#sub!lewis hamilton
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Caroline was finally on her own. She had just moved in into her first apartment. To celebrate her new-found independence, she put on a diaper. The thing is, she had this thing for diapers, always had, but had never actually worn them until moving out. She had been far too scared that anybody would ever find out to actually go ahead with it. The horror if her parents had found diapers in her room! She would’ve never lived it down. But here, there was no excuse. She was all alone and could do as she pleased. So she did. Gently, she diapered herself for the first time. To her great pleasure, the padding crinkled as she moved. She crawled on her bed, unable to stop smiling. She had planned tonight to be joyously childish. Her massive stuffies collection, which she had accumulated since birth, was on display. She bought a coloring book specially for the occasion, along with crayons. Dressed in pigtails, she grabbed the pacifier that she had been sleeping with these past few years, unbeknownst to her parents.
Finally, she could start coloring. She chose a pretty picture of a unicorn to start. She was a grown woman coloring on all fours, her dress not even remotely covering her diaper, sucking a pacifier and loving every second of it. She was having so much fun, she kinda wished she had been courageous enough to start sooner. Oh, well. Right now, she was concentrating on coloring. Nothing else mattered. The room melted away and she felt as though transported to another place. It was actually surprisingly difficult to stay between the lines. Much more difficult than she ever imagined it would be. But that’s why it’s so fun, she thought. She just knew that pretty picture of a unicorn would hang on the fridge. Then she felt a hand on her padded butt.
“You can keep playing, you don’t need a change yet.” Caroline’s mother said. Not that Caroline’s diaper wasn’t wet, it was, as usual. Just that Caroline didn’t get a change until she was thoroughly soaked. Caroline briefly looked at her mother and was not even mildly embarrassed to be seen in a very obvious and wet diaper. Caroline recognized the room as her room, but not the one in her apartment, the one at her parent’s house. She did not question it.
“Mommy, I’m hungry.” she said.
“Come, dinner is almost ready.”
Caroline put her arms around her mother and was picked up effortlessly. Resting in her mother’s arms, she sucked on her pacifier and went in her diaper without even knowing. Her mother noticed the unicorn drawing lying on the bed.
“Aww, you drew this? It’s so pretty! Do you want to put it on the fridge, hmm? My little artist, mwah!”
Who knows how these things happen, but Caroline sure didn’t mind her parents knowing about her diapers now.
Photo credit: aunt-ellie.com
For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter
#ab/dl caption#ab/dl girl#ab/dl stories#ab/dl#ab/dl community#diaper captions#ab/dl fiction#regression caption#ab/dl diaper#diaper stories
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the new farmhand you father hired was truly something to look at when you would be at your desk doing possibly anything to be right there. the way she threw those hay-bales’ around and barked orders at your clumsy brother for falling in the mud trying to catch a chicken was so sexy to watch. her tight black tank, dark washed denim jeans, and her square toed boots fit her to a T. a wet spot forming in your lower area as the sun glistened off of her sweat. gosh, was she a treat. she’d be up earlier than your father, the sound of the sheep bleating and her yelling silly words at the herding dogs always waking you up. you couldn’t help but dream about her, she was a dream. you’d stay up and watch her ploughing the fields, with her arms flexing with every swing of her tool. oh you wish she could ploughing you next, it was incriminating to think that lowly of a woman you haven’t even met but just seeing her in general gets you rubbing your thighs together because without fail every friday night, your fingers are deep in your pussy, drunk on the thoughts of her on the field with her denim and boots on. you mewl at the thought of her big arms around your neck tightening with every thrust of her fingers hitting that spongy spot you so desperately loved.
the sun bore it’s heat in your room on a summer morning. the cooing of the mourning doves can be heard and you toss in your bed. your sticky and wet from the humid night, your hair is all over the place and making you hotter even more. your groan and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up before you head downstairs after you checked your clock for the time. you toss on a robe and slippers before leaving and lazily walk down the steps rubbing your eye with a pout hoping your father was downstairs, in the house for you to complain to him about the humid night and how badly you suffered. well, he was and so was she. you stopped at the bottom of the staircase in panic mode, maybe if you disappear right now she won't notice you in your robe. she sat and let out a guttural laugh and so did your father. they were talking over their break you assume with the water bottles and snacks in their hands. they go on for about a minute more before your father noticed you and fixed hisself, walked over to you and gave you your 'good morning' kiss on the cheek before heading out to do some more of his sweat inducing work. leaving you and the hunk of a farmhand in the kitchen.
making your way to the fridge you feel those blue eyes trail your every move. bending down in the fridge to see what you could possibly conjure up before lunch, the intense staring was too much and you prayed to God she would say something and he answered.
“hello there.” she grunts and clears her throat waiting for you to acknowledge her. that melodramatic draw in her voice is smooth and tangy, that southern accent present in the best way you know how. you squeak at the bass of her voice and peak your eyes over the fridge door. “h..hello.” you speak and stand up now to look her in the eye. she’s overpowering you even from across the room, you could feel her height looming over you. “i haven’t seen you around much, are you his uh.. daughter?” she scratches the back of her neck in the awkwardness of the room. “i am. are you the new farmhand? my father has said lots about you.” “ain’t that right?” she straightens her posture and is not fixed on the sink a little with her hands firm on the marble counter. “w..well not that much—y’know he can’t really say too much because you’re still his employee and all.” you shyly giggle to lift the awkward tension in the air but you’re not sure if it’s already gone or it’s just you. she chuckles “yep that sounds about right. say, i didn’t catch your name sweetheart.” the nickname is absolutely heaven to your ears. you tell her your name and she mutters under her breath that it was a pretty name for a pretty girl. she taps the counter twice and excuses herself to the outside claiming she has more chores to do and to help your clumsy brother, she throws in a little jab at the poor boy before giving you a wink and a smile leaving the door open, letting the breeze roam the house. you rush upstairs and immediately start your silent victory dance once your bedroom door is closed. you finally scored a conversation with the woman. looking out the window to see her shaking her head and fingers rubbing her temple at the sight of your brother covered in manure, you giggle in your hand and plop yourself on your bed. this was just the beginning of a loooong journey.
#andrsnsgirl#‿︵‿୨margot’s drabbles୧‿︵‿#tlou 2#abby anderson#abigail anderson#tlou abby#tlou#abby tlou#tlou2#farmhand abigail anderson#can you tell i love country abby?
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just you and me ~ jj maybank
my masterlist
You were laying with your back against JJ's chest in the hammock in front of John B's house, watching the sunset.
"Do you ever wish things would have been different for us?" you asked out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence.
"What do you mean?" he said, twirling a peace of hair around his finger.
"I don't know. Like, do you ever wish you were a Kook? That your mother was still around and your father wasn't the abusive bastard that he is?" you said, gazing up into his eyes.
He chuckled at the last remark.
"I don't know, I guess so. I mean, I wish my mother was still here. She was the best. She would've loved you, you know?" his eyes were starting to fill with tears, his mother being a pretty sensitive topic for him.
"I wish I could have met her, from what you've told me she was a wonderful woman. I think we would've gotten along" you were running your hand over his chest, drawing random shapes with the tip of your finger.
"You definitely would have. She always wanted another child, a girl. You could've been the daughter she neved had"
You hugged his torso tighter at that, knowing how much pain her leaving them caused him. He never really spoke about her, only if you insisted on it.
"Do you ever wish she hadn't left?"
"Of course I do. She's the reason why dad is the way he is. He always blames me for her leaving, and when he hits me he says he sees her in me so he loses it"
"That's no excuse, bub. No parents should ever lay a hand on their children, no matter what"
He nodded, fighting the urge to cry. You leaned up and kissed him on the lips, his heart finding comfort in your touch.
After he met you, he finally found the peace he had been looking for since his mother left. The person he would feel at peace with, the person he would get to call home. In you, he found that someone.
"I love you" he whispered, resting his forehead on yours.
"I love you too" you smiled at him, reaching up and running a hand through his messy hair.
A peaceful silent enveloped the two of you, the only thing that could be heard were the waves in the distance.
"We'll go full Kook one day, right?" you asked again, making JJ chuckle.
"Of course we will. We'll buy a house on Figure Eight and we'll make gold statues of ourselves and put them in our front yard for everyone to see. We'll have a couple of kids, maybe a dog or two and live happily ever after with our bank accounts full of cash" he explained while proceeding to run his fingers up and down your arm.
"Why the gold statues?"
"I don't know, they seem cool"
You chuckled and nodded your head, burying your face into his warm chest.
"I can't wait to do all of that with you. You're it for me, J. You're the one" you told him, not looking up at him in fear of his reaction.
"You're it for me, too. I don't think I'd ever be able to find someone as perfect as you" he kissed the top of your head.
"It's just you and me against the world"
"Just you and me"
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Second Chance 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Jonathan Pine
Summary: You move into your parents' house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.
Part of the Brother's Best Friend Universe
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
It’s no glorious homecoming. You have little to be proud of. A broken relationship, a lost job, and wasted years. In hindsight, it’s easy to see how stupid you are. Even with the excuse of emotion, you can’t forgive yourself for your own poor choices.
Back to square one. Literally. What kind of forty-two year old lives with their parents? The one staring back at you.
You splash your face, rinsing away the collagen wash that doesn’t seem to help the wrinkles. If it had, maybe he wouldn’t have cheated. Maybe he wouldn’t be shacked up with a woman half your age. A girl, really.
You shake your head and sigh. Nothing you can do or undo.
You shut off the tap as you hear voices above. The basement is close enough to an apartment; you have your own bathroom and a reasonable amount of space. Privacy is another matter as your mother barges in to get to the laundry room or even just chatter about Clara’s casserole.
You dry your face and your hands and leave the bathroom. You cross the carpeted floor to the stairs and pause. Your brother must have got to town early and your parents are ecstatic to have him back. They can be proud of him; he’s an executive in a national company with a wife-to-be on his arm. Younger but always ahead of you.
You still haven’t found the courage to go up and say hello. Now’s as good a time as ever. You’re thirsty and they say hydration is the key to staying young. Yeah right, that’s not something you can change now.
You hope your future sister-in-law doesn’t mind your pajamas. The blue and white striped satin set are of the few nice things you salvaged from your former life. You open the door and shuffle up in your slippers.
The voices draw you to the kitchen. You peek around and find your parents standing on one side of the square island as your brother stands between two other figures. You didn’t think there was anyone else coming.
You think better of introducing yourself. You’ll go back downstairs and say you fell asleep. As you turn, your arm hits the vase on the side table. You cringe as it goes silent.
“Honey?” Your mother calls to you. You exhale and steel yourself.
“Uh, hi,” you sidle into the doorway, “I didn’t want to interrupt. I just wanted to get some water.”
“Nonsense, Jaydon’s here with his love fiancee, Tandi,” she trills as she beckons you forward, “and Jonathan popped in to catch up.”
You look around as you near the island. Jonathan. Pine? You didn’t think he was still around here. Everyone else seems to have moved on.
“Hey,” your brother, Jaydon grumbles.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Tandi offers her hand with a bright smile. She’s tall and slim and beautiful and probably ten years younger than your brother. Why do men always do that?
“You too,” you give a strained smile.
“Nice to see you again,” Jonathan intones and you look at him, struck by his clinging eyes.
He changed but he is not unrecognizable. He was always the tall, stringy kid but he’s filled out, he has some lines across his forehead and around his eyes, but they only refine his looks. He used to just be your brother’s sidekick, now he stays straight and confident.
“You too, Jonathan,” you murmur, “sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”
“We made pretty good time,” Jaydon says proudly.
“Just so happens I’m in town for a family affair as well,” Jonathan adds, “good a time as ever to reconnect.”
You nod and wait for someone else to speak. You have nothing exciting to boast of. You’d rather fade into the background in the shine of their achievements. You’re certain they’ve already been briefed on your comedy of errors.
“Me and Tandi were just saying we’d like to go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. You could join us for a ladies’ day out. We’ll give the men some space,” your mother chimes. “Get you out of the house.”
Her last comments sting. You’ve been hiding. You don’t want to be recognised or need to explain yourself. Even if you did deflect curiosity, you don’t need another reminder of all your failures. And the farmer’s market? What are you going to do there? You don’t have the money for overpriced heirloom tomatoes.
Still, you have to play along. That was the talk your mother had with you. Like a teenager she had to tell you exactly how to behave when company was there. Company? He’s your brother.
“Sure, that sounds good,” you agree.
“I’m so excited,” Tandi beams, “it will be nice to explore and get to know Jay’s hometown.”
She touches his arm and he promptly drapes it around her shoulders. Jay? He always hated being called that but he seems to like her. For now. Their show of intimacy makes you shrivel up inside.
“There is very much to see,” Jonathan quips, putting your own thoughts to words. “Quaint, as the polite would put it.”
“Well, I recall you never had any issue finding something to do,” your mother rebukes playfully and Jonathan smirks.
“Yes, but I don’t suppose it’s the sort of activity your little ladies’ day out would entail,” he gives a coy tilt of his head.
“I hope you’ve grown out of that,” your mother kids.
“Mm, I like to think I have,” he shrugs.
You’re certain he has. All of them are the adults in the room and you’re the hermit in the basement. You have no illusions, you know your mother, you know all your mistakes have been laid out on the table; on every table in town. Oh woe to her, she always did try to raise you right.
“Mm, yes, well, it has been so long and you are all adults,” your mother says, as if to affirm your resent, “you’ve all come such a far way.”
You bite down on your cheeks, holding your tongue. It’s probably not a snipe at you, you’re just sensitive. You look at the counter and try to make yourself small. The glimpse of your pajamas once more sets you apart from them. How embarrassing.
“Oh, yes, speaking of,” Jaydon pipes up, “the engagement party. You said you had a venue in mind. We should see that while we’re here.”
“Ah,” your mother nearly squeals, “you’re going to do it here?”
“We talked about it,” Jaydon looks at Tandi, “but the wedding is still up in the air.”
“Oh my, how exciting,” your mother trills. “Perhaps tomorrow then, we might do that as well,” your mother continues her giddy raving, “mm, and flowers, catering, oh! A dress…”
You could slip away right then. She wouldn’t notice. None of them would.
You peek over at her. She was never that excited for you. Well, you never got the ring. You were never that special. You tear your eyes away and they meet another pair. You quickly wipe the sadness from your face and send Jonathan a plaintive smile. His eyes narrow and his gaze lingers.
You break your own stare and try to focus on the conversation. You should be happy for your brother, not bitter. Afterall, you made your own mistakes, not him.
#jonathan pine#dark jonathan pine#dark!jonathan pine#drabble#jonathan pine x reader#the night manager#series#au#brother's best friend#second chance
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may i ask about your transfem eridan reading if possible?
I'm afraid to say I don't have a ton of analysis wrt the way Eridan is written in the context of Homestuck. I believe the person who wrote Eridan's Pesterquest route (which pretty heavily hinted at transfem Eridan) said there was some stuff in canon which supported it, which isn't like. Technically wrong. But to do that we gotta get into March Eridan because let's be honest that's where that whole thing stemmed from.
So the original March Eridan stemmed from this image of Eridan is a tube top, plaid skirt/pigtails etc. from the official Homestuck Calendar.
Which was, from what I can tell, somewhat controversial in the fandom. Some people vehemently disliked it and used it as an excuse to be transphobic, some people used it as an excuse to draw a thirteen-year old boy in very skimpy feminine clothing. Y'know. Fun stuff.
But the original image itself is kind of interesting in origin. It was actually drawn by Paige Turner, a trans woman who did a lot of art for Homestuck (especially in the walkarounds) and was quite possible the person responsible for This
So the original image clearly had some Vision in it, which then got incorporated back into Homestuck via March Eridan appearing in the Ministrife.
I think people can forget sometimes how much external/fandom impulses get folded back into Homestuck, especially post Act 5. In the text, there isn't a ton of supporting evidence, but the Text changes and adds in new things all the time!
That being said, my actual TAKE on how a transfem Eridan would go is. I mean I wrote it in The Golden Mile. I think Eridan's line in Pesterquest is a really interesting one. He says he's not open about how he thinks the gender binary is fake and stupid because people already hate him, and if he supported gender deviance it would just direct people's ire to one of the only things he thinks is actually good that he supports. There's always an odd self-awareness about Eridan's worst traits that he shows pretty frequently. It doesn't make it better that he then engages in those shitty traits, but it does show some potential for growth.
And I think growth is the key word here. I think Eridan's gender arc should coincide with Eridan becoming a person she can actually stand being. And I think having a transfem who was, objectively, a complete shitter, is an interesting story that we aren't often shown. There are, in real life, trans women who were shitheads before coming out, and who, after changing, probably shouldn't have to live in constant shame over who they were once, as long as they do better in the future. It's something I'm going to explore going forward in Early June, and I think a good transfem Eridan can add a lot to the character.
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ooo what inspired your tav design? like did you go in with a specific character in mind, or did it come from playing around with the character maker?
Oh boy ok. You’re about to find out just how insane I get over RPG character creation. “marty you don’t have to disclose it” I can’t believe you guys are forcing me to do this.
SO, I actually started bg3 with another character entirely, a ghityanki bard, which I thought would be fun and for a bit it was! But I wasn’t feeling crazy about her and when I play an RPG I love to turn my PC into a proper OC I can be obsessed with, so I restarted the game and before I went to character creation I literally sat down with a sketchbook and started brainstorming.
I wanted my pc to have an aesthetic of her own separate from the main companions but I also wanted her to blend in with the rest of the cast, I went for dark urge bc I heard that it gives you a personal quest and I landed for half drow and wild magic sorcerer, which is another class no major companion has (and also, I’ve always wanted to play wild magic even in regular dnd and this was a nice excuse to!)
Her aesthetic pretty much came up as I was sketching her and thinking about all the info above, what could set her apart but still feel like she could blend in? And most importantly, what would be fun for ME to draw? And so I went for witchy goth woman and luckily the design I sketched was very easy to reproduce in the character creator - and the rest came up organically as I drew more of her.
(I also named her after my very first dnd character Brigha, a half orc warlock, and it’s only after I finalized her design that I realized I’d borrowed some elements from hers eheh)
Witch goth was especially fun to play with bc I feel like most companions have a goth vibe about them but we’re missing the mean, spooky, feminine witch archetype (yes, morrigan from dao was part of the inspiration I love my wife <3). You could argue that Gale sort of fills the witch role already but I feel like they stand very nicely at opposite ends of the witch spectrum which is also fun considering their wizard-sorcerer one sided animosity.
#I think the only thing I didn’t manage to land on with her#is that as the supposed protagonist she doesn’t really feel like the “leader” of the group much.#But I kind of like that cause it matches the vibe of an IRL d&d party#anyway ty for the question!! I love talking about this sort of thing
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