#man... being grabbed from another universe having no idea what's going on... that could be them to me

[tunastime]

what if #6 for the spotify ask game?

hi em! number 6 is quite fun in my opinion :3

so because of one very specific submas animatic, I could not get Ingo Pokemon Arceus/Pokemon B/W out of my head. so I don't think you go here but I could not stop myself <3 I hope you enjoy anyway! (1063 words)

Ingo stretches his legs as he sits in the grass. Akari is perched on her heels beside him, staring off into the distance, squinting against the sun. Ingo runs his hand through the fescue sticking up beside him—he’s tired, warm from sitting in the sun, fighting sleep with every ounce of his body. He hadn’t been getting a lot of that lately, dealing with the Sneasel kits. From her place beside him, Akari hums, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Anything?” Ingo asks. Akari hums again, sounding frustrated.

“Nothing yet,” she says. “We’ll know it as soon as we see it.”

“And what exactly is it?” Ingo asks, more out of curiosity than anything else.

`“It,” Akari emphasizes, trying a sigh to keep the budding disappointment out of her voice. “Is a time dilation. It looks like someone took a huge dome and smacked it over a big piece of the landscape.”

Ingo hums, mouth twisting to the side as his eyes flick tiredly over the landscape. Like… like…

There’s a shimmer, meters off in the distance. Like a mirage, dancing over a wide patch of grass, disrupting a group of sleeping caterpie. Ingo watches them worm away.

“Like that?” he asks. Akari blinks, confused, her eyes following his gesture out into the field. There’s a brief pause, where the air seems to still around them, not by nature of the wind stopping, but as if time itself had begun to bend. Akari takes in a sharp, short breath.

“Yes,” she gasps. Then she grabs Ingo’s wrist, and tugs.

It takes a moment, far longer than Akari yanking him forward, for Ingo to get his feet properly under him. He stumbles down the hill, towed by the child in front of him. This sudden burst of energy seems to travel through them like a rogue static shock, bouncing up his held arm and through his chest, giving him enough startle forward, matching Akari’s pace before she can latch onto him again.

He balances himself as they reach the bottom of the hill, straightening his hat and coat as they wade through the ankle-deep grass. Ingo’s frown only deepens in concern as they continue toward the mirage of light in front of them, still a distance off despite the gap Akari is trying to rapidly close. He feels the air catch in his lungs as he tries his best to keep up.

“What is a time dilation, Akari?”

She throws her voice back at him, trying to catch her breath.

“It’s like—time changes in this one area, and pokemon like you’ve never seen flock to it. Like they were pulled out of some other place. Just like—”

Just like us.

Ingo stumbles, hand clasping Akari’s shoulder as he rightens. 

“Right,” he murmurs. 

Up close, the distortion of the ground around the purple-white swirls of air seems to come in and out of focus. He can’t see past the field’s reflective surface, but the air feels heavy, like liquid, like water, when he tries to press his hand through. Next to him, Akari takes his hand.

“I thought, maybe…” she starts, looking at him. Ingo swallows. “But maybe it’s a stupid idea.”

“You think it might jog my memory, right?”

Akari blinks, stammering:

“Or, maybe, like, maybe, at least, maybe fill in some gaps! Not… not necessarily fix anything. Just maybe make something… clearer. Like stilling the water, y’know?”

Ingo sighs, smiling ever so. It’s honestly not a bad idea.

As he presses through the glassy surface, Akari at his hip, it gives to a churning sensation through his stomach and a lightheadedness in his head. He stumbles as they righten on solid, hazy ground. 

The air around them feels much thicker than it is. Akari was right—the field ahead of them is full of pokemon from outside of Hisui—shapes Ingo barely recognizes, and some that aren’t familiar at all. The ground is littered in shards of pottery, or glass, all smooth and colorful as they crouch behind a sizeable rock outcrop. Ingo feels… mostly himself, as of current, but there’s something on the edge of his mind that tugs, that he can’t quite place. He frowns against it, and Akari gives his shoulder a nudge.

“Anything?” she asks. He hums quietly.

“I don’t know.”

She hums back.

“Okay—keep chasing that feeling,” she says, straightening. She peers around the side of the rock, eyeing the field ahead of her. Ingo blinks, startled all at once by Akari’s sudden movement.

“Wait—”

Before he can grab onto Akari’s sleeve, she bolts from beside him, and, at the same time, Ingo feels a sudden, violent wave of nausea pass over him. The world swims hazy grey, like the stone behind him, except the stone is gone, and the floor is solid under his back instead, and the floor is floor, not soft field grass. And light is bright, but not sun-bright, and certainly not the purpled fuzz of daylight through the dilation. Fluorescent bright. He tries to stand, but his strength escapes him, pain finding purchase at the base of his skull. There’s a voice calling out to him, far from his reach, far from the lungs that try unsuccessfully to breathe air and call back out. He tries anyway, even as the memory of a place he should know blurs at the edges.

Maybe he’s not lying down on the floor. Maybe he’s moving. Maybe he’s rocking, synced in time with the motion of the floor under him. Maybe he’s upright, sitting, standing, but the world around him looks like it’s through foggy glass. Like a dream he can’t quite hold onto properly, like an event misremembered. He tries to grab at the semblance of anything, of the memory he’s being forced to recollect, and it tastes so familiar. But it’s so far away.

He can’t remember any of the faces he’s trying to see, even this close. Even the one he’s supposed to remember. The one he knows is like his own.

Ingo forces his legs under him, even as the world bends. The edges of memory become the concrete sensations of rock and grass and the sound of Akari’s delight. And the violent spin of Ingo’s head as he stands upright.

The mirage flickers around him and through him as he stumbles backward out of the dome. As his feet hit the solid, familiar earth of the field behind them, Ingo collapses.

(send me a number between 1-100 and I'll try to write you a fic!)

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.

word count. 4.7k-ish

note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.

“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.

and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.

you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”

a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.

a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.

“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.

that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”

satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.

“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.

you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.

satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .

“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.

maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;

“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.

the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”

your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.

“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.

you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.

satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”

a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.

he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.

“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.

you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.

resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.

“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.

. . .

you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.

you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.

“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.

“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.

he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”

you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.

his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.

“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.

you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.

you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.

turns out you did just that.

your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.

satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.

“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”

you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.

despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.

you are adorable when you sulk.

“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”

blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.

his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.

your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.

“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.

he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”

you nod in response and give him your best puppy eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.

the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.

satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.

you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”

maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.

you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.

“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.

then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.

his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.

you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.

“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.

it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?”

your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.

satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.

his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.

“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.

he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”

you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.

your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.

“i want you,” there it goes.

you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.

“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”

if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”

the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.

he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.

“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.

he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”

satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.

you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.

satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.

his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.

“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.

after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.

your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.

“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”

you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.

his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.

one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.

“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.

your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.

you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.

that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.

his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.

“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."

you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.

your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.

“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.

your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”

satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.

“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”

the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.

“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.

your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.

spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.

satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.

“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.

his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.

“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.

your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,

“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.

your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”

satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.

you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.

“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.

you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.

“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.

you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.

you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;

“happy birthday, my love.”

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

—————————————————

The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

[kmgkmg]

BOYS FROM MARS - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

word count: 2.9k…

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader

synopsis: you've sworn off men for the month of february, but you also might've fallen for the local cafe's baker two weeks into the month.

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, baker!seungcheol, ceramicist!seungcheol, strangers-to-lovers

warnings: does include mentions of wonwoo and dino together, but nothing happens.

rating: pg

a/n: dedicated to my favorite scoups stan @jasminecha <3 also a submission for k-vanity's love in the mix event! the full playlist can be listened to here. songs that inspired this fic the most include:

saturn by sza // universe by thủy // lucky by raveena // sunny days by wave to earth // never tell by luke chiang

“I swear,” you sigh to your friends, “life’s got to be better on Saturn.”

Between the messy situationships you got trapped in and the endless amount of male celebrities that got involved in scandals, you realized one thing. Well, you knew it a long time ago, it’s just been re-emphasized as of late. Men aren’t shit! 

Valentine’s Day weekend came and went, with you successfully continuing your man-detox.

Your form of treating yourself on the Sunday after was grabbing boba with your friends. Jasmine tea with herbal jelly always healed you, and after the crappy week you had you were ready to recharge. Some sweet treats to go along with the drinks were an obvious choice as well, including the cafe’s famous egg tarts.

“Boys are from Mars, blah blah. You say all that but haven’t you been looking towards the kitchen since we sat down…” your friend Yeri observed, causing you to snap your head in her direction. 

“Okay, but he is uncharacteristically hot for our town, right?” You frown, looking back at the man who hadn’t yet noticed your burning gaze.

A cafe recently opened downtown and you wanted to check it out ever since their TikToks worked their way into your algorithm. Who could turn down cronuts (croissant donuts) with fillings sounding as yummy as ube pandan, black sesame oreo, and dark chocolate rose? You ordered roughly fifteen minutes ago, but knew you were going to have to wait due to the amount of people in the store. What you didn’t expect was for the baker to be so attractive. Sure, the baristas and other staff are also very attractive, but something about the baker and his arms being so muscular made you lose focus. Not only that, he somehow managed to be so attuned to his work that he was oblivious to the amount of people drawn to him. He has to be from out of town, you think to yourself.

You finally shifted your gaze from the poor man just doing his job as he kneaded more dough, turning back to your friends. Your childhood friend, Wonwoo, was still stuck on the barista who greeted y’all. Yeri scuffed at the two of you, unable to believe her friends’ lack of self control.

“Some detoxes aren’t meant to be completed.” Wonwoo shrugs, getting up from his seat after hearing his name called by the barista who took your names earlier, Chan. He seemed similar to your ages, definitely the youngest of the people working at the cafe. He was definitely the type Wonwoo went for. Wonwoo flashed a bright smile, shifting his weight to lean closer to Chan. As he handed his phone to him, your friend and you rolled your eyes at his predictability. And then there were two…

The three of you had sworn off men for the entire month, a feat that would usually be completely achievable. Yet, after finishing your boba you were wavering ever so slightly. The mystery man continues his work, now sporting some flour on his face. Certainly that was an accident, but it only made him look hotter than before. After another five minutes Wonwoo’s and Yeri’s cronuts came out and you stared at your plate where only crumbs remained. Ordering another dessert to share isn’t the worst idea, you nod to yourself, eyes glued to the giant fruit tart in the display case. You ask your friends if they’d be down to share and they agree instantly. Almost too eager. You push your chair from the table, heading towards the counter to order. You turn back to Wonwoo and Yeri, wanting to confirm the order but see them giving you thumbs up and winking. Your face twists into confusion, before turning back as the hot baker walks to the cash register to take your order. You need to get out of this cafe.

Avoiding the cafe proved to be much harder than anticipated. The night you first visited you brought home some egg tarts, happy to share with your loved ones. Little did you expect that your entire household would fall in love with the tarts as well. You became the assigned tart buyer, stopping by the cafe to grab a four-pack nearly every day. A four-pack only cost $6, something that was unheard of in this economy. Besides the inexpensive tarts, frequenting the cafe so much did have its perks. One, for example, was that you were fast in filling up the punch card and now were two visits from a free drink. Another, coincidentally, was interacting more with the cafe’s baker, whose name you learned is Seungcheol. 

“Did you see we’re supposed to get more snow next weekend?” He attempts to make small talk, grabbing the tarts for you and packing them away. 

You hum a ‘mhm’ before reaching into your bag for your wallet. You were attempting to distance yourself from him, to let a crush die out as a crush, but he made it more difficult each time with his efforts in small talk. Why did his voice have to be so nice to hear?

“You’re good, Y/N, it’s on the house.” The familiar angelic voice interrupts your thoughts.  

You felt your face heat up as you heard him say your name. You shake your hands fervently, “No, it’s okay I can pay.” 

“I know you can, but at this point I think you’re the number one customer for these tarts. Are they that good?”

Your brows furrow at his question, “Are you kidding me? They’re so delicious, I mean the custard filling itself is not too sweet but still has a hint of vanilla in it and I taste the smallest amount of… almond?”

“Yes! That’s my secret, it’s like a few drops to each batter, but I didn’t know others could taste the difference as well.”

“It definitely makes a difference! Not to mention the crust is absolute perfection, it’s sturdy enough to last multiple bites but still soft to bite down on…” You trail off, becoming self-conscious of your food ramblings. 

Seungcheol doesn’t notice your inner turmoil, but his eyes light up at your words. “You’re so much better than Chan or Mingyu when it comes to expressing your thoughts on the food! I will spend hours working on a new recipe for them to take one bite and say, ‘it’s tasty, Cheol’. It drives me insane!” 

You nod, surprised by his extroverted personality. Unable to match the energy on this Wednesday morning, you do your best and manage to give him a faint smile before grabbing the bag that sat on the counter. 

“Well, thank you for the free tarts, Cheol.” You hold up the bag, before leaving the shop. 

“Anytime!” 

As the bells at the top corner of the door rang out, Seungcheol watched your figure walk away from the cafe. He let out the breath he had been holding, placing his hand on the countertop. With his free hand, he grabs his half full cup of coffee, taking sips to cool down. Anytime? Wait did you just say Cheol?

“He’s single, you know?” Chan raised his eyebrows your way, as he whispered Seungcheol’s dating status for the table to hear. Chan’s shift ended thirty minutes ago and he and Wonwoo were already extremely cozy and used to each other’s presence. Wonwoo would not stop blowing up the group chat to give every update to their relationship as the days went on from the fateful first day y’all visited the cafe. 

“It’s still February, you know?” You retort, eyes still glued to the baker. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yeri dismisses you. 

She knew it was only a matter of time for the two of you to get together. Chan made a separate group chat excluding you to devise a plan to get the two of you together. He revealed Seungcheol would check the door each time a customer came in, then look dejected each time it wasn’t you. Not to mention, he usually only worked one or two days of the week, but his hours increased in hopes of seeing you again. Long story short: neither of you were making the first move and it was driving everyone insane. 

A familiar melody played through the cafe’s speaker’s, causing your ears to perk up. wave to earth? Your favorite band, the band whose concert is ingrained in your bones, wave to earth? Taking a picture of your uneaten egg tart, you vowed to upload a story with wave to earth as the background music when you got home. You continued the conversation with your friends, reducing the glances Seungcheol’s way to a minimum of once every five minutes. 

Around two hours passed, most customers cleared out leaving just your table and Seungcheol in the cafe. Your friends convinced you to talk to him once again. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol began the conversation. 

“Sorry. I, uh, noticed how excited you were when wave to earth’s music came on. The playlist that was playing all night was mine and I loved seeing your reactions to the music. I’m careful in asking this, but would you want to grab a meal sometime? You know, outside of this cafe and all.”

Your eyes softened as your body slowly let go of the tension you were unaware that you had. 

“I really enjoy running into you, Seungcheol. But, I am doing this ‘man detox’ where I’m trying not to be with anyone in February. I fall for people too easily and hopefully things will change.” You confess, grabbing your straw’s wrapper and throwing it in the waste bin on his left.

You wished he would go over this moment quickly, not wanting to fight his temptation and your true feelings for much longer. Sipping on your drink, you try your best to act nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I don’t think you can fall for people too easily, it just means you love people sincerely. And that’s not anything that needs to be fixed.” He counters, jogging back behind the counter at the sound of the oven’s timer. 

You see Wonwoo, Chan, and Yeri walk out of the cafe, content with you finally having a long conversation with Seungcheol. Before you could reply, he continued speaking. 

“The bit about swearing men off for a whole month I understand. Lucky for me tomorrow’s the first day of March though.” He slyly informs, not breaking eye contact as he puts the hot pastries on the cooling rack.

You scrambled to find your phone buried in the bottom of your bag. Once you finally fished it out, you checked and double-checked the date…February 28th. Why are the days going by quicker and quicker?

“I didn’t mean to make you so flustered when I thought about asking you out, we can pretend this never happen-”

“No!” You surprise the two of you from your increased volume. 

Seungcheol chuckles before grabbing the ingredients to make frosting for tomorrow’s desserts. “Good, then how does next weekend work? I have a workshop to attend so I won’t be at the cafe for this next week. If you think it over and decide you don’t want to go, no worries. We can go back to a regular customer and baker relationship. If you do want to go out with me, here’s my number.” He explains, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing a pen and writing his number on a blank punch card. 

“O-Okay, let me think about it,” you muster out. Tucking the card with Cheol’s number written on it in your pocket, you left the cafe. Confused was an understatement. 

You returned home and placed the tarts on the kitchen table before heading to your room. As you got ready for bed, you grabbed the punch card from your coat pocket. As if your hands had a mind of their own, his number was added to your contacts before you had time to think. Throwing yourself on your bed as you looked at his contact, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for next weekend. Tomorrow was the start of March after all. 

“So, you don’t just work at the cafe then.” You look around in amazement at the ceramic studio you were standing in, unable to imagine him as anything else than a baker. Now his muscular arms were making more sense.

“No, not at all. I only help out there since Mingyu is on vacation visiting his family. Oh, Mingyu is the shop owner by the way. But, if you look under any of the plates at the cafe, they have my initials on them.”

“Wait, so why are you such a good baker?”

“Lots of part-time jobs to support my family. You pick up a few things here and there.” He explains, grabbing a collection of ceramics for you to choose from.

Seungcheol treated you to lunch and the conversation flowed like the two of you knew each other for years. The date was going well, suspiciously well. But you tried to withhold your default thinking, wanting to believe in whatever connection the two of you had. 

“Would you like to try to make anything? A flower vase? A plate? A mug? It will take a while to get back to you since I share my kiln with another studio member, but I can expedite it.” He informs you, showing the different models of ceramics you could make. 

You look at your options, unable to decide as they all looked cute. 

After thinking for a while, you break the silence, “I do love flowers…” You decidedly point at the vase. 

“Flower vase it is.” He nods, sitting down and throwing clay onto the wheel before shifting and letting you take over. 

You could’ve sworn there was some reluctance in his movements. But once you looked back up at him, he moved his hands over yours to help you mold the vase into the shape you wanted. 

The two of you spent over an hour in the studio. Seungcheol was a good teacher, not getting frustrated at your mistakes, even though you knew he could sense your embarrassment. He’s kind. Realizing the sun was setting, he did the finishing touches on the vase, before running into a back room, telling you he had something to give you. 

As he left you alone for the moment, you looked outside to notice small white flakes falling from the sky. After admiring the view for a moment, his footsteps enter the room again, now he appeared with both of his hands behind his back. 

“Choose a hand.” 

You gesture to his left, to which he reveals a white rose. Seungcheol holds it out to you and you promptly wrap your fingers around the stem. 

You tilt your head trying to see what else he was hiding, “What about the other hand?”

He holds out another white rose, before looking outside and also noticing the snow. “Shoot,” he murmured under his breath before grabbing his messenger bag from the worktable. 

“It should be okay, the snow doesn’t look too heavy just yet,” You comfort him. Your eyes stay fixated on the flowers you’re holding, gently bringing them up to your face to smell them.

His voice calls for your attention, “Y/N.” 

As you look up to him, you feel shy once again as he puts the scarf around your neck. Instantly, you feel warm. Although, you are unsure if it was due to the scarf or the actions of the man in front of you. 

“It’s getting late, may I walk you home?” He asks, already putting his coat on and preparing for the cold. 

You look at him with surprise, not used to men with actual manners. You put your coat on as well, walking through the studio’s doors as he held it open. 

“That’s really sweet of you. If you do that though, I will never hear the end of it. Suddenly you’ll become my boyfriend and we’ll need to start planning our wedding out-”

“Our wedding, huh?” He smirks, holding his arm out for you to lean on as the sidewalk the two of you walked on became covered in ice. 

“I did not mean to say that part out loud.” You purse your lips together, mentally hitting yourself for unnecessarily rambling. 

“Let me at least walk you to the traffic lights then.”

“Deal.” 

The lights came far too quick, and you found yourself disappointed by the lack of distance between your house and the intersection. There were barely any cars outside. Everyone must be at home preparing for the weather, you thought to yourself. Soon enough, the two of you reached your agreed destination. Yet, you found it hard to let go of his arm. 

“Are you sure I can’t walk you home?” He softly offers again. 

“It’s truly okay! My house is not even a ten minute walk from here.”

He squints his eyes, slightly skeptical. “Then text me when you get home safe, okay?”

“Okay, I can do that! Thank you for everything today Cheol, I had an amazing time.” 

“Me too, Y/N.” 

The crosswalk light turns white, indicating you could walk. You wave goodbye, crossing before realizing you were still wearing his scarf. He was still watching you from the other side as the light began to flicker. 

“What should I do with your scarf?” You cup your hands around your mouth to project your voice. 

He grins big before mirroring you, “Just give it to me on our next date!”

[kaleldobrev]

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

[breakindishesinaelevator]

FOUND YOU

Invincible & Blue Diamond!Reader

^^pov you nuzzling mark

(yes these will be put in parts)

these bbls killin yall 🥀🥀

i never really watched steven universe so ive been doing super duper research and hope i got the idea of her character right

and this might just be platonic rather than romantic idk

if theres any romance in this it might be cecil and/or nolan

1.5k words tho i might be a beast (/j 🥀)

fic under the cut :P

“Mark, there’s some kind of giant that’s causing tsunamis, hurricanes, and some real fucked up storms up on the west coast. It’s also abducting people at random! I need you to go and settle this immediately! Before more lives are lost and more people go missing!”

Cecil’s voice cuts out from the comm in Mark’s ear. Mark sighed, he was enjoying his time chatting and having a nice barbecue with his friends. Rolling his shoulders and stretching out his limbs, Mark stands, preparing himself for what could be a possible fight.

“Well! See you guys later, I guess.”

Mark makes a move to walk away from the group before Eve speaks up.

“Another mission from Cecil? God, he can’t give you a break, can he? I mean, you just got back from those two bank robbers who do the same shit every week. What is it now?”

Putting her hand on her hip, Eve is very unhappy with how Cecil is overworking Mark. She stepped away from the team to do her things to help the world and stop being badgered around by the old fart. Why couldn’t Mark do the same? Sure, he needs to get his mind off of things after what happened with his dad, but he needs to know his limits…

“Some… giant on the west coast… Nothing big! Nothing I can’t handle. It’ll be quick! I’ll- I’ll be back for some more wings though!”

Mark’s expression goes from confident to a bit nervous. Yeah, he’s been in this hero business for about a year and a half, but giants were still a bit troublesome to him. Preparing to take off soaring into the sky, he stops after Rex speaks up.

“Hey, man! Why don’t we come and help!”

“Oh- no that’s not- you don’t have to…”

Rex gets up, a big stupid grin on his face. Placing his hands on his civilian clothes, he explodes them into his hero suit.

“If the giant is nothing big then we could come with and wrap things up quickly and have a long time needed beach vacation! We could beat that giant and tan in the sand afterward! And if Cecil needs the Guardians, then fuck him! He can have Samson and Immortal help him out!”

Monster Girl giggles, getting up along with Rudy. Rae smiles, standing up as well, and placing her hands on her hips.

“That’s not a bad idea. I’m so down for a beach day!”

“Then it’s settled! Robot! Fire up your little doohickey and let’s go take down a giant!”

The others exclaim in agreement and preparing for the trip over to California, Mark smiles warmly. He is so happy to have some hero friends like them. Even if they’ve had their arguments and scuffles from time to time (mostly from Rex), he’s still grateful to have allies and friends with them.

————————————————————————

Sighing, you look down at the tiny humans running rampant. Scanning everyone as much as you could, one caught your eye. Is that who you’re looking for? Reaching your hand out, you grab the human’s arm, dragging him up towards you.

The human screams out in pain as his shoulder dislocates from your handling. Dangling him in front of your hooded face, he looked close to who you were looking for. Mustache and seemingly young. It has to be him. It has to be Nolan. He’s probably the closest one you’ve found so far, along with the other 34 humans you’ve caught.

Humming, you move to put him in the bubble you have trailing behind you. A bubble that contains the aforementioned other 34 humans you’ve taken. The bubble wasn’t super uncomfortable for them— it contained little rock formations you found, along with fruits and fountains that could prove useful to them ever if they needed it.

Before you could place him in the bubble, you hear a whizzing sound, then boom! The human is gone!

“Wh-what?”

Flipping around, you search for him, before locking eyes on some pink figure floating a couple of yards in front of you. The same pink figure is holding your human.

You reach out to take him back from the random figure before the pink figure begins to fly towards the shore. Panicking a bit, you move through the ocean and follow her.

“Give him back!”

Now being closer to shore, you’re also closer to the flying pink thing. Reaching out once more, you flinch back as some sort of projectile hits your hand, blowing up on impact.

Whipping over to see what that was, you see a bunch of humans on, what looks to be a flying rubbish contraption, another projectile is thrown at you. The human throwing them laughing maniacally, obviously getting a kick out of hitting you with the explosives.

Grunting and getting annoyed very quickly, you watch the contraption fly around you. A robot on the contraption begins shooting beams at you, not like it was doing anything to you, just irritating you more. And as if those things weren’t annoying enough, some green ogre thing jumped off and gave you a mean left hook to the face before landing back on the contraption.

“Grrngh- enough!”

Swatting the contraption out of the air, the humans (and robot) rush off of it in order not to get injured. You reach out to grab them but then, the pink thing comes back, wrapping some kind of pink rope around you. Struggling to move, you get ready to break out of it before another flying being, this time a male, comes at you with a right hook. The force of it knocks you down completely. You gasp, knowing only one being who had that kind of strength.

Now down on the ground, bound by the pink bonds from the pink figure, you look up at what brought you down.

“Nolan?”

Gasping heavily, a blue aura comes from your body in waves, causing the ocean to stir and also causing the heroes in front of you to weep profusely. Tears coming down your face as well.

With Eve now feeling immense sadness, her powers begin to weaken. She looks to the others as they’re now groveling in the sand sobbing. Even Rex! She looks out to the coastline and sees the waves crashing into each other and coming to the shore in big waves. Gasping and looking back to Mark, she sees him staggering in the air, feeling the effects of the giant woman’s power as well. Not as much as them though, due to his Viltrumite genes.

Before the waves could sweep up her and the team and possibly drown them, she used the last of her strength to gather the team and fly them out of the giant’s range so they could recuperate.

“Mark! W-we’ll come back-! Urgh-!”

Mark nods to her in acknowledgment and understanding and Eve takes off with the team. Seeing that they’re gone, Mark flings himself at you, hoping that another few punches would make you stop inflicting this feeling on him and any possible person within a 30-mile radius.

Getting closer and closer to you, he reels his hand back mustering whatever strength he could into his fist. He is stopped though, your hands immediately clasping around him, bringing him closer to your face. Your hood coming down, Mark could see your face in full clarity and the giant tears that were treading from your eyes. You were… ethereal…

“Nolan! I finally have you back!”

Through your tears, you smile greatly, your aura intensifying and your waves getting bigger. Mark looks at you in confusion, his head tilting.

“What?”

Bringing him closer to your face, you nuzzle your cheek against him. Your ginormous tears almost drowning him, he sputters trying to find air. You pull him away from your face a little, fully taking in his appearance before gasping.

“You look worse than ever! In what universe could that possibly be fine?!”

Now bellowing loudly, you crunch over on your knees, sobbing.

“I’ve waited thousands of years for you to come back… Now look at you… Weak… Frail… How can you come back to Homeworld looking like this?”

Oh… The giant woman thinks Mark is his father. …Awkward. Mark squirms uncomfortably. You’re a bit calmer now though. Your saddening aura lessening substantially. The tears on Mark’s face slow down but yours still go. Mark’s vision beginning to clear up, and he finally got a good enough look at you. Long hair, long lashes, blue skin, curvy. Damn. He quickly tried to speak about the moment on hand. The unnatural disasters and the abducted people. But, the only thing on his mind right now is how you know his father and what your relations are with him.

“Uh- The- Where’s-? I’m not- Well- I don’t-“

You place a giant finger on his lips, shushing him.

“No, no. Don’t speak. You must save your voice and energy for the trial.”

“Trial? What trial?”

“Why, yours, of course.”

What. What’d his father do this time?!

[curiousnightly]

carbon copy - pt.one

a caleb x reader fanfiction

summary: although caleb is the type to eventually come clean about some of the awful things he's done, there's one thing he had never intended on admitting to honestly. part of him keeping quiet was probably out of selfishness, but deep down it was the fact that what he had done was utterly sinful and admitting to it would fill his heart with immeasurable amounts of shame and guilt. he planned to carry this secret of his to his grave, or so that was his plan until his horrible deed would come back to haunt him years later, inside your bedside drawer. 1.2k words

warnings: nsfw; mentions of toys; mentions of male arousal; hints to possessiveness & jealousy; mentions of masturbation

reader characteristics: she/her; mc!reader; caleb referred nicknames (pip-squeak, etc.)

a/n: this idea came to mind randomly and now i have deemed it a complete headcannon for caleb. planning on making this a short 2 to 3 part series (short & sweet). let me know what you guys think and likes/reposts are always appreciated <3.

masterlist

pt.2>>>

Caleb knew that he was not a righteous man. He does try to make up for it by being honest about some of the terrible things he’s done, but there is one instance he couldn’t quite confess to and would rather take it to his grave. 

Or at least he thought he’d be able to take it to his grave until the thing he did a few years back was sitting right in front of him in your bedside drawer. 

˗ˏˋ ✈︎ˎˊ˗

One summer break during university, Caleb managed to finish his exams early and get out a few days before the end of the semester just so he could surprise both you and Gran with a few prepped meals and a clean house. Caleb made sure that you wouldn't return home for another few days so he could prepare as many of your favorite desserts as he could in an effort to please you. Normally he would be eager to see you first thing once he arrived back to Linkon, but he was even more eager to see your excitement at him making that homemade apple pie you loved so much. He was willing to do it just to see that smile of yours that always made his day but equally plagued his thoughts at night. 

Upon entering the house, Caleb immediately registered some packages on the coffee table. He called out to see if anyone was home as he inquisitively looked at the various boxes from where he was standing. When no one responded, he closed the door and set his bags down so he could get a closer look at the packages. Once he reached around the table to sit on the couch to examine the packages, he quickly noticed that they were all for you. 

Caleb thought it was odd that you’d have stuff sent here when you could’ve had it sent to the university PO boxes for the student dorms. As he wondered about why you had all of this sent here, he reached for one box in particular that was wrapped in a black plastic layer. He turned it around every which way as if to try and determine what was in it, even thinking about opening the boxes to see their contents. Although the temptation did cross his mind, he gently set the box down when he realized he shouldn't pry. The last thing he wanted was to get scolded like he did when he admitted to going through your ‘account book’. 

Caleb sighed as he set down the box and got up to grab his bags to bring them to his old bedroom. He took the next few hours in the house by himself to clean up, shower, make a grocery list, and so on and so forth. But every minute that went by he couldn’t keep his curiosity from returning to the packages on that table. And so not even a few hours in from when he first came home, he finally caved and decided to take a peek at what was inside. 

Caleb reached for his pocket knife and flicked it open as he sat down on the couch. He pointed the blade at each box as if doing ‘eenie meenie miney mo’ to see what he’d open first, but his eyes landed back on the small rectangular black package he held up earlier. He hesitated selecting that one at first because it would mean he’d really have to work hard at sealing it back up as if it was never opened, but soon realized that there was no way for you to know how the box was previously wrapped in a plastic layer. Without anything to prevent his advances, he reached for it and began to cut off the wrapping.

He sighed a breath of relief when he discovered that the box underneath looked like a normal package. He makes fast work of cutting the tape in between the middle seam of the package and sets the knife down to use his hands to open the box the rest of the way. Inside was some packing paper that he discarded to his side on the couch to reveal a long black pull string bag within the box. Caleb’s curiosity not faltering, he reached to pick up the bag inside but froze when his hand wrapped around something firm and painfully familiar. He looked at his hand gripping the object from outside the bag, which only made his suspicions worse. In an attempt to prove himself wrong, he pulls the bag out of the box and slowly opens it to confirm the object inside. 

“Pip-squeak,” he whispered to himself, completely in shock to find a dildo inside the bag. 

Although he carefully closes the bag and sets it back in its box, Caleb’s thoughts are racing - Why would she buy this? What is she doing buying stuff like this? I didn’t know she would buy these kinds of toys? Does she plan on using this while she’s home? Is she really going to use this? There’s no way she’d actually put this in her, right?

That last thought triggered Caleb’s imagination and immediately made the blood rush to his cock. He pinched his nose in frustration. It didn’t help that he knew that the walls separating your bedrooms were thin and he could already hear whenever you pleased yourself. And he admits he would follow suit in his own room upon hearing your sweet, soft voice moans, but now that he knows that this would be inside you when he could’ve been the one ins-

A horrible, sinful, idea crossed his mind. He was already tipping the line of ignoring the way you viewed him as an older brother because his feelings were getting harder and harder to conceal, however, this idea he just conjured up would be crossing a whole new line he would not be able to recover from if you ever found out. But to think that you’d be pleasing yourself with something so…artificial? Caleb wasn’t having it. He tried to find shame in even thinking of the idea from the start, but before he could stop himself, Caleb threw the boxes into his room, grabbed his keys, and was out the door heading to the nearest sex shop. 

˗ˏˋ ✈︎ˎˊ˗

The memory of that summer and the crushing realization of what he did comes flooding back into Caleb’s mind when he finds the dildo nestled inside the drawer of your nightstand. He recalls how he came home the night he originally learned of your purchase: how he locked himself in his room; the way he still hesitated on following through on his idea even though he had already made his insane purchase; how he glanced back at the toy you had bought for yourself and mocked its size; the way his imagination returned to thoughts of you pleasing yourself with his dick rather than the toy version of one; how hard he got just thinking about the way you’d sound at the feeling of his size and girth; he remembers all of it.

Everything comes back to him from that night, including the part where he made a mold of himself and replaced your original toy with his replica. And here it was, still being used by you whenever you wanted. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°⊹ Reblogs are appreciated ⊹°˖✧˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

pt.2>>>

[geralallfandoms]

Hii I’m not sure if your still taking requests but if you are could you write a mark sloan x reader which involves him protecting reader from something idk is that makes sense 🫶

Hiii! Yes ofc! Hope you like it!! 🫂✨🧚

Requests are open!!

[An unlucky day]

Being a doctor has never been easy. Not only because of everything that had to be studied, the long hours of work, the mistreatment of superiors, or the poor treatment of patients...for you, the most difficult and annoying thing about all of this were the drugged or drunk patients. Most of them did not know where they were or they forgot it all the time, they did not know why they had arrived at the hospital or they deeply denied having consumed anything although their studies will confirm it.They blamed the perfumes, the chocolates that their grandmothers had given them and they didn't know they had alcohol in them, or they tried to make excuses like birthdays, weddings, New Year's Eve or Christmas.

Your 42-hour shift was about to end, there were only 4 hours left and you could return to your comfortable bed. But of course those hours would not be peaceful. It was as if the universe knew you were about to leave, that it decided to send you a bunch of patients together.

"Car crash. Two cars involved. One of the drivers was under drugs. You two, come with me." Bailey said, obviously pointing at you and another resident.

You tried not to snort too hard, you knew that if Bailey noticed, every time a case like this came up, she would call you just because she knows it bothered you.

The ambulance arrived at the same time you finished putting on your gloves. The doors opened quickly and the nurses took out a man in his 50s, unconscious, with a wound on his arm and a couple of bruises and cuts on his face. Bailey, seeing that the man was not in life-or-death conditions, pointed a finger at you, indicating that the patient was yours.

The nurses helped you take him to a more private room, just as another nurse entered.

"Thank you very much, I can so ir alone from here. Could you call Dr. Sloan? His face has a couple of bruises that I want him to see." I asked the nurse who nodded quickly and left the room next to the stretcher bearer, leaving me alone with the patient.

You began to prepare your things, turn on the machines and other things, turning your back to the patient.

And that was the worst thing that you could do.

While you were preparing the needle with tranquilizer to give it to the patient, the man had woken up. And not in the best conditions. He was under substances, in a place he didn't know, tied to a stretcher, with his entire body in pain, with a possible concussion and with someone who was about to prick his arm with something he had no idea what it was.

"Oh-" You said when you saw the he had woken up. But before you could say anything, the man let go of the stretcher and hit your hand, causing the needle to fall to the floor.

"Who the hell are you! Where I am? Let me out!" He screamed as he tried to free himself from his other restraints.

"Sir...calm please, you are in a hospital, you-"

"NO! YOU'RE LYING, YOU DAMN BITCH!" The man yelled before he could completely let go.

When you saw that the man got up from the stretcher, you took advantage of the fact that he was distracted and ran towards the door. Just as your hand had grabbed the door handle, the man grabbed your hair, pulling it back at the same time as you opened the door.

Luckily for you, when the door opened, the first thing you saw was Mark's face.

"Let me out! Let me out or I swear I'll kill them!" The man shouted in your ear as his other arm wrapped around your neck.

The nurse behind Mark quickly ran off in search of more help, as Mark's face contorted on fury.

"Let them go now! You're in a hospital, you can't do these things. Let them go now if you don't want us to call the police." Mark said with a strong voice. Although the reality was that the police would come anyway to arrest him for driving under the influence.

"T-the po-police..." The man said as he backed away. His arm was beginning to let go of you and when Mark noticed it too, he grabbed your arm quickly, pulling you away from the man.

Mark quickly put you behind him. He was much taller and bigger than you, so you had been completely hidden behind him, seeing his big back. The man started screaming again, this time running towards us. Mark was backing away with his hands at your sides, trying to protect you from the man who was trying to grab you again. But the man was able to take Mark's robe.

Seeing how the man and Mark were pulling, you ran to the table, took a needle and filled it with a tranquilizer. once Once you knew it was enough to put the patient to sleep for a few hours, you quickly injected it into his shoulder.

The man turned around quickly, hitting you in the face, causing you to fall sitting on the floor. And just as Mark was about to hit him back, hospital security ran in, arresting the patient.

Once they had him grabbed, and pulled away from the room, Mark quickly approached you, crouching down next to you.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you? What hurts? That fucking son of a bit-" He said as he watched your nose begin to bleed.

"Mark!" You shouted to interrupt him. "I'm fine, really...and you?"

"Your nose is bleeding, probably broken, and your eye is black. Don't tell me you're fine, that bastard ruined your face..." He said seriously as he took a cotton ball and put it on your nose.

"But luckily I have you to fix it, right?" I said while smiling, trying to get him to relax.

"Of course darling..."

__________________________________

I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if something is written wrong, English is not my first language! But let me know!

🫂✨🧚

[zepskies]

A Line and a Half

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.

AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…

You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.

Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk. 

“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.

Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.

“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor. 

Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.

“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.

“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”

You quirked a brow. “Do they?”

You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.

Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.

“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.

You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.

Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.

Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.

Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.

Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.

You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.

It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.

She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)

That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.

And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.

“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.

Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.

“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.

“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.

You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.

“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.

“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.

“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.

You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.

You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”

Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.

“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”

You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.

The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.

“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).

“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”

Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.

“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”

A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”

“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”

You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.

It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.

When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.

Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.

Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.

“I’m sure,” you replied.

Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.

“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”

 You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

You shared a telling look with Dory.

“Next time, huh?” you asked.

“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.” 

He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.

She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.

“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”

That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”

“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”

“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.

“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.

Unstable…and lonely. 

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.

He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?

Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.

For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.

After a moment, Russell shook his head.

“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.

“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.

You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad. 

“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.

“It’s all right,” you replied.

“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."

You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.

“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.

“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.

 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.

You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.

As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.

“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”

Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.

It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.

“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.

When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.

“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.

 “Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.

You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.

If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.

He wanted to see more of you before he left town.

“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.

“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.

However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.

“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”

Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.

“Sometime, huh?” you asked.

He smiled back. “Tonight?”

You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.

“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”

“Well, all right,” Russell said.

He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.

Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.

But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.   

“See you tonight,” he said.

AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆

Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.

Next Time in Part 1:

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[bigheadbrooke-9]

๋࣭ ⭑ Not that easy ๋࣭ ⭑

.✦ ──────────────────── .✦

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!reader

Summary: Eddie has harbored a secret crush on you since middle school but never confessed, convinced that his awkward appearance and insecurities made him unworthy of your attention. Now a senior, with a bit more confidence and a new look, he still can’t shake his feelings for you. He admires your kindness, beauty, and effortless charm—talking about you constantly to his friends, who have finally had enough. They push him to make a move, but despite their encouragement, Eddie just can’t seem to find the courage to face you.

Warnings : Heavy bullying, name calling, fluff, kissing ( IF YOU DON’T LIKE READ )

Word count : 2.2k

Based of unreleased Frank

“Eddie, you have to talk to her. You’ve been in love with her for so long, and at this point, she’s your entire personality. It’s obvious how much you care—just go talk to her,” Gareth urged, his voice filled with frustration as he stared at me from across the lunch table.

I remained silent, staring down at my untouched tray. My appetite had disappeared the moment I saw Y/N laughing and talking with Jason Carver, of all people. Jason—the guy who had made my life hell for years. The guy who had never looked twice at her until now. And yet, in just a matter of weeks, he somehow managed to get her. Meanwhile, I had spent years pining after her, doing everything I could to be in her orbit, but never finding the courage to say a damn thing.

“It’s fine, Gareth. I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” I muttered, pushing my tray away.

That wasn’t a good enough answer for my friends. They all exchanged glances, knowing something was seriously wrong. Normally, I’d be running my mouth, cracking dumb jokes, or going off on a tangent about some campaign idea. But today? I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. The silence felt unnatural. Even the guys, who tried to make small talk to fill the void, knew something was off.

Then, as if the universe hadn’t humiliated me enough, the cafeteria doors swung open behind me, and I felt the shift in the air before I even turned around. Y/N walked in—hand in hand with Jason.

My stomach twisted.

I kept my eyes forward, but I could hear them laughing as they passed. Jason, being the absolute jackass he was, smacked Mike on the back of the head as he walked by. But before I could even process the anger bubbling up in my chest, Y/N did something unexpected—she reached out and lightly slapped the back of Jason’s head in return, giving him a sharp look. A silent warning.

It didn’t matter, though. Not really.

The damage had already been done.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping the edges of my denim jacket as I shrugged it back onto my shoulders. I needed to get out of here before I completely lost it. Grabbing my book bag, I pushed back my chair abruptly.

“Eddie, where are you going?” Dustin called after me, his voice laced with concern.

I ignored him.

I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t sit here and watch the girl I had been in love with for years parade around with the guy who had tormented me since freshman year. My heart couldn’t take it.

Without another word, I walked out the back doors, the lingering scent of Y/N’s perfume still hanging in the air. It was too much.

I needed to get to my van. I needed to breathe before I broke down completely.

Y/n’s pov ⭑

As I walked into the cafeteria with Jason, his hand in mine, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. Jason was always affectionate—sometimes a little too much—but that wasn’t what had me distracted. It was Eddie.

His table, usually the loudest in the cafeteria, was eerily quiet. No dramatic storytelling, no over-the-top gestures, no corny jokes that made his friends groan. Eddie Munson, the guy who could fill any room with noise, sat completely still, staring at his untouched lunch tray. His hands were folded tightly, his shoulders tense.

I wasn’t close with Eddie—not really. We had exchanged words here and there, the occasional nod in passing, maybe a shared joke when we were forced into a group project together. But I had known him for years, and I knew enough to realize that something was wrong.

As Jason and I walked past their table, he suddenly reached out and smacked Mike on the back of the head. My stomach twisted.

I hated when he did that.

I had told him before—I warned him before—not to put his hands on people like that. Without hesitation, I lifted my hand and lightly slapped the back of his neck in return. He turned to me, brows furrowing, but I gave him a sharp look.

A silent message. Cut it out.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a chair scrape against the floor.

“Eddie, where are you going?” Dustin’s voice rang out, laced with concern.

I turned just in time to see Eddie walking out of the cafeteria. His hair swung loosely around his shoulders as he stormed toward the exit, his book bag slung over one shoulder, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Something in my chest tightened.

Before I could think, I let go of Jason’s hand and took a step toward the door.

Immediately, Jason grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“What are you chasing after that freak for?” he asked, leaning down slightly as if he was genuinely confused.

I blinked up at him, my stomach twisting in irritation. “Jason,” I sighed, already exasperated. “I’ve told you to stop calling him that. He’s done nothing to you. Cut it out.”

I tried to move past him, but he stepped in front of me again, blocking my way.

“Move, Jason,” I said, my voice firm but still patient. “Please, just move.”

His grip tightened on my wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to hold me in place. He shook me lightly, as if trying to snap me out of something. “Freaks like him don’t deserve—”

Before he could finish, I lifted my free hand and slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed.

Jason froze, his jaw tightening, his nostrils flaring.

I ignored the way the cafeteria went silent, ignored the way heads turned in our direction.

My hands were shaking. My heart was racing.

I didn’t care.

I had warned him.

For weeks, I had let his words slide, let his comments go with a forced smile and an annoyed sigh. I had asked him nicely—multiple times—to stop treating people like they were beneath him. But Jason never listened.

So I was done asking.

Pushing past him, I stormed toward the door, shoving it open with more force than necessary.

I didn’t stop to see if Jason followed.

I didn’t care.

Right now, the only thing I cared about was finding Eddie.

Eddie’s POV ⭑

I unlocked my van with a heavy sigh, tossing my bag onto the passenger seat before climbing in. The familiar scent of old leather and faint cigarette smoke filled my nose as I slammed the door shut behind me. My hands instinctively found their way to my lap, fingers absentmindedly twisting the metal rings that adorned them.

I wasn’t going to cry.

I wasn’t.

This wasn’t new—Jason always did this. Every time I so much as glanced at a girl, he felt the need to swoop in, as if it were some kind of sick competition. The thing was, I never really cared before. The other girls were just passing thoughts, meaningless crushes that never stuck.

But Y/N?

She was different.

She wasn’t just some fleeting interest or a name I’d forget in a few months. She was the only person I had ever truly liked—the only one who had ever really mattered. She made me want to be better. Not just for her, but for myself, for my friends, for the small sliver of hope I still had for my future.

But none of that mattered now, did it?

I let my head fall back against the seat, exhaling through my nose as I stared at the stained ceiling of my van.

God, I hated high school.

A sudden tap against my passenger-side window pulled me from my thoughts. My brows furrowed as I turned my head, only to find her—standing on her tiptoes, trying to peer inside with an almost comical determination.

A small chuckle escaped me before I even realized it.

I reached over and unlocked the door, quickly wiping my face just in case there were any stray tears.

Y/N yanked the handle and struggled to climb in, her frame awkwardly maneuvering against the high step of my rusty old van. She wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to old, beat-up vehicles with doors that barely worked. She was used to nice things. Expensive cars. Smooth rides.

I hated that I even let myself compare.

But it was hard not to.

She let out a small huff, clearly frustrated, and reached for my outstretched hand. Her fingers gripped mine tightly as I helped pull her into the seat. She attempted to shut the door, but it was too far for her to reach.

I smirked. Too stubborn to ask for help.

Without thinking, I leaned over her and pulled the door shut, the force of it making the van shake slightly. It wasn’t until I sat back in my seat that I realized just how close we had been—just how intoxicating her perfume was, how the warmth of her skin lingered against mine.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my gaze forward.

I could feel her staring at me.

Her gaze was soft—curious, maybe even concerned.

I finally turned my head to meet her eyes.

“What happened in the cafeteria?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’re usually so talkative and loud and funny, but today you were just… quiet. Why?”

I swallowed hard, shaking my head as I let it fall forward.

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

She was still looking at me.

“Eddie, look at me. What’s wrong?”

Her voice was soft, but there was a firmness to it—a quiet insistence that made my chest tighten.

I felt a warm hand wrap around my wrist, her fingers curling around it like she was afraid I’d slip away if she let go.

I swallowed hard, still staring out the window at the school parking lot. I couldn’t look at her.

I wouldn’t.

If I did, I knew I’d break.

“I can’t tell you,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not important. It’s just… a lot going on.”

She didn’t let go.

If anything, her grip tightened.

“Is this about Jason?” she asked, giving my wrist a gentle shake as if trying to pull my attention back to her.

I let out a sharp exhale, finally rubbing a hand over my face.

She was so pretty.

Even now, while looking at me with nothing but concern in her eyes, she was stunning.

“Mostly, yeah. But I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice coming out rough. “I can’t tell you. Just leave it be, Y/N.”

The second the words left my mouth, I felt the shift.

She let go of my wrist.

The warmth disappeared.

I finally turned to look at her, and I regretted it instantly.

She looked… hurt.

I watched as she reached for the door handle, her fingers wrapping around it like she was seconds from leaving.

Panic flared in my chest.

“Y/N, don’t go. Listen—”

“Eddie.”

She cut me off, her voice quieter now but still firm. “You can talk to me. I’m not going to judge you. I’ve known you for years now, you can—”

“Y/N, I love you.”

It came out before I could stop it.

Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in shock, but I didn’t let myself hesitate.

“That’s why I don’t want to see you with Jason. It hurts—a lot. I’ve wanted you since seventh grade, and I’m sick of watching him chase after you, knowing damn well how I feel. He does it on purpose. And you—”

I was cut off again, but not by words.

By her hands.

She grabbed my face, her palms warm against my cheeks, and I barely had a second to process before she was smiling.

Smiling.

“So you’re jealous?” she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

I felt my face heat up instantly.

“Out of everything I just said, that’s what you focus on? You only hear jealou—”

And then she kissed me.

I froze, caught completely off guard, but the second I felt her lips against mine, my body acted before my brain could catch up.

I kissed her back.

God, I kissed her back.

It was soft, hesitant at first, like she was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. My hands found her waist, gripping onto her like she might disappear if I let go. The whole world outside this van faded away—Jason, school, everything.

It was just her.

Just us.

When she finally pulled away, my breath was heavy, my heart pounding so hard I swore she could hear it.

“Whoa, wait—” I stammered, trying to collect my thoughts. “Why did you do that?”

She just laughed, shaking her head.

“Eddie, the feelings are mutual.”

My brain short-circuited.

“You… what?”

“You don’t think I noticed?” she asked, tilting her head. “The way you look at me? The way you talk about me? You always speak so highly of me, about my personality, about how I look.” She smiled. “You’re such a gentleman, Eddie. You’re handsome. I’ve liked you since you had that buzz cut.”

I groaned, immediately burying my face in my hands.

“Oh god, please don’t mention that haircut.”

She laughed again, and it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard.

I peeked through my fingers, watching her grin at me, and for the first time in a long time—

I really, really loved this girl.

.✦─────────────────.✦

CUZ THEY ALL WANT WHAT I GOTTTT BUT I AIN’T GOT NOTHING BUT YOU NOTHING BUT YOU NOTHING BUT YOUUUU.

I love Frank and this lowkey reminds me of Eddie 😭

Sorry I haven’t been posting yall but I’m working on that medieval fan fiction yall want. ITS TAKES A LONG TIME ISTGGG 😭

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 7

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6

• ··········· • ············ •

The ride down the elevator was awkward bordering on comical. The enforcers had been none the wiser about your deeds, unlike the fidgeting scientist next to you.

Through the blurry reflection of the golden doors you could see him open his mouth to say something but then shake his head and turn back to the door. His foot was tapping on the floor, the rhythmic thump reverberating inside the ascensor. At some point, he had turned to you for more than a second and you had looked at him, urging him to say something but he puffed some air out and turned away from you.

When the elevator pinged and the doors opened he was quick to start his march out of the elevator but you grabbed his elbow, gently. He quickly snapped his neck to look at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Are you going to tell them? About…” You looked and pointed up.

“What?” He paused for a second, digesting the question, and then shook his head. “No, of course… I just… We could…if you let me…”

You recognized that expression, that tone of voice, that slight high-pitched shift in his tone. Viktor was trying to hide his excitement, and it didn’t surprise you. It was Viktor, the man who would get up from being zapped by putting his left hand in a machine to then putting the right one in there just to make sure.

Esther called your name from behind Viktor and you waved at her, smiling like nothing had happened.

“She doesn't know either… So…" "She won't know from me." His gaze pivoted from you to her. "Thank you. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You squeezed his upper arm and walked around him, feeling his golden orbs following your figure. 

'That could have gone much worse' was the last thing you thought when you passed by the enforcers trying to roll up the banner that had fallen.

• ············ •

Another week had passed and you had successfully avoided the problem that was Viktor. Not that you thought he would tell on you, but you knew excited Viktor and that needed a compartment on your brain all on its own.  And right now you needed all your brain capacity to think of how to approach Remembrance Day since it had been formally scheduled. Which means Ambessa’s attack had a date.

You brainstormed with your mother the best way to approach it. Telling Cait about the attack would have led you to even more suspicion unless you told her about everything but the less people knew, the better. Waiting out on the sidelines was also impossible, it could be a repeat of the rocket attack and you’d be back to square one.

At some point, you mentioned just destroying the statue and they’d have to reschedule it to get a new one, but the way your mother had said your name after told you how bad that idea was.

It was a sort of joint decision that the best way to improve the outcome was to go to the actual event. Which then gave you another hill to climb: how do you convince your mother, who was now convinced she was the hero's sidekick and one of the better-known faces of Piltover, that she can't come to a major event because it could end in tragedy. For her, for you, and Piltover.

“I have to be there!” She said calmly, sipping her coffee while you fine-tuned the piano. “You can’t be there. If something happens and I have to choose, one second could be enough for someone to die.” You didn’t even look at her, your head stuck inside the musical instrument. “Why would you need to choose? If Viktor is the catalyst to the thing, you save him.” Esther shrugged like this was the easiest decision in the world. “If you had to choose, who would you choose?” You argued, looking back at her. “Viktor.” She looked you dead in the eyes, shrugging and you couldn’t for the life of you feel even a bit surprised or disappointed. “Would you even forgive me if I had chosen otherwise?”

You shook your head. The answer to the riddle was simple, but it didn’t mean it was easy. And you would hesitate.

“You can’t come.” You insisted and she grumbled. “I’ll go. It'll be good. People will see me as an official representative of the family. The new member of the Rainemours. Stop gossiping.” “Yes, because you appearing alone in an official event will not make people think you’ve killed me and buried the body.”  “Tell you what.” You leaned your elbows on the side of the piano. “I’ll go alone and then you…I don't know…a Remembrance Dinner. Or something. So people know you care…” “And why would I miss the main event when I can do both?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows at you.

A moment of silence crossed between you. You took a deep breath and nodded. Walking slowly around the piano and crouched next to where she sat. She frowned as you grinned mischievously, eyes squinting in question.

“Don't you have a book to finish?” You whispered at her. 

The gasp she gasped had you biting your cheek trying not to laugh. Instead, you tilted your head, a gleam in your eyes.

“How dare you!” She said flustered, more embarrassed than angry. “I have… I’ll have you know… the chapter is well underway… and…I…” “I’m not the editor…" You interrupted and got back up to your feet. "Tell her that. She saw me at the cafe yesterday and asked for you.” 

She turned her eyes from you, flustered, taking a sip of her coffee before turning to you.

"I'm your mother…" She humphed.

“You are, and I love you, and I can't lose you again. I won't." You told her, your words filled with certainty. "And in all your wisdom, I know could make any decision in a split second, but I can't. I'll freeze and I'll stutter and I'll scream and Piltover will crumple again. Please."

Esther looked at you and her gaze softened. Sighing she nodded.

"I've been feeling a little under the weather anyway."

• ············ •

Even without a plan, you came to the event, arriving early, a black ribbon pinned to your chest. With the invitation in hand, you effortlessly passed by the Enforcers at the entrance, even if some gave you the side eye.

You found a somewhat shadowy location in the courtyard, near a metal column and some boxes. And then you watched people, coming and going. Enforcers were slowly dropping in, remaining clustered at certain points, their vans closed and watched. The stage was closed off, the heavy curtains hid the statue you knew was there. 

The sun was setting, making the glass shimmer and reflect the vanishing light. Their obsession with glass had been their worst enemy in both attacks. Many of the injured people had been people who got hit with shards of the sharp decoration. Whether it had fallen from the dome or broken by the Chembarons.

“Hello.” A familiar salutation came from right next to you and you jumped. “Holy blue balls…” you mumbled, placing a hand on your hip and walking in circles, trying to calm your heart. “Of Hextech…” Viktor finished the joke. “It's funny because it's true. I apologize for startling you again, but I… we need to talk and you have been avoiding me.”

You shook your head vehemently at him, your finger mimicking the motion.

“For me to avoid, I would have to frequent the same places you do, which I do not. So it’s merely a coincidence we haven’t crossed paths.” You lied through your teeth.

"Your mother told me, you didn’t want to come with her to the Lab the other day. That is the definition of avoiding someone.” He smiled triumphantly at his quip and you rolled your eyes.

This is the universe making you pay for your book comment. You looked away from him, groaning low in your throat. And then a plan started to form.

“We’ll talk, right now at the Lab.” The easiest way to get him away from the Memorial, feed his curiosity. “I can’t leave.” He muttered, looking at the stage.

He slumped his shoulders and leaned his back into the column, placing his cane between his legs, keeping it steady with the feet. He was the picture of dejected. You couldn't help but smile softly at him.

Viktor had cleaned up. His usual three-piece uniform had been replaced with a form-fitting black suit and tie, adorned with red and golden details. The white cane contrasted with the suit. His hair was still a mess, but if this Viktor had any similarities to your Viktor, nobody touched the hair unless it was to cut it.

“Jayce wants us to be here together.” He blurted out, pushing his hair out of the way with one hand. “'The pockets that keep us afloat will be here', he said ‘We need to present a united front’. I do not feel united with anyone here, to be honest, so I don’t understand why I need to be here. But he threatened me with a healthcare provider.”

“A healthcare provider? You mean a doctor?” You started to hear the worry in your voice. You hadn’t seen him cough, you felt his back brace and he still limped around, but he seemed to be breathing somewhat fine.

“I have a bruise on my back.” He pointed behind him “With the brace it’s not healing so well, so I’ve been going around without it. And it’s uncomfortable so--” He stopped suddenly and looked at you. “Why am I telling you this?”

You shrugged, theorizing that somewhere in the back of his subconscious he knew you were a friend.

“Anyway. Yes… I cannot leave.” He made a disgruntled face, looking at his feet, the cane swaying from one hand to the other, but never leaving the ground.

You sat on a box next to the column and leaned your elbows into your knees, looking forward at the crowd that was starting to form.

“Someone once told me he would rather ask for forgiveness than permission ” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes. “He must have been very reckless.” He said, his voice still hinting at the frustration of his predicament. “Sometimes. But he also got things done.” 

It was excruciatingly easy for your interest to go from getting him out because of the Herald to getting him out because he was unhappy. It was like muscle memory. You'd see those golden orbs even hinting at unhappiness and you'd stop to help. 

“Yes, but they are threatening me with…medical assistance.” He spat the last two words.

You were about to reply but another familiar voice shouted, coming closer. Jayce was making his way towards both of you in quick steps, his arm extended upwards as if he could go unnoticed. He was wearing a similar look to his partner, his face determined and clean-shaven. A stark contrast to the last time you saw him.

“Viktor!” he shouted again. “Jayce!” Viktor mimicked his intonation but not his enthusiasm, straightening back up and leaning into his cane. “I thought you were gone, buddy!” Jayce declared, squeezing Viktor’s arm. “Nope…still here.” “Mel wants to get me on stage with her. Usually, I’m ok with it -- Oh…Hello…” he looked at you and paused, only now realizing there was a third person there and who that third person was. “I'm Councillor Jayce Tallis of the Tallis Family.”

He showed you his hand and you took it, shaking it confidently. It has been a while since you have seen him like this. Not excited, given the time and place, but carefree, normal…untraumatized.

“I know who you are.” You stated and he nodded. “I also know who you are.” He gave you an uncomfortable grin. “Caitlyn was not happy about your mother paying off a Judge to set you free.”

Viktor audibly groaned and you could almost see him run a hand from forehead to chin.

“Mr. Tallis,” you smiled at him, squaring your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. “My mother didn’t pay a judge to set me free. She paid an attorney to write a legally binding document that would allow me to keep being a person of interest in the investigation, but instead of rotting in a jail cell until someone decided to pluck me out because they figured out how to put me in the pit for good, I would be doing it so from the comforts of my own home.”

Silence between the scientists. You gave Jayce the sweetest of smiles and added.

“Fortunately I was born on the side of the bridge that allows me those types of…leniency.”

Jayce was about to retort back but Viktor beat him to the punch.

“I hardly think antagonizing the child of one of our benefactors is going to show a united front.”

“Ah…right… I forgot.” He blabbered, pushing a hand through his gelled hair. “How’s Esther? Madame Rainemour…you mother…” “Sick and working.”  “Yes, we received her letter.” Jayce smiled awkwardly, grasping at any straw that would make him look more approachable. “Editors' deadlines are just like Investors deadlines. Pesky little buggers.”

The deep exasperated sigh that Viktor lets out behind you was enough for Jayce to understand what he had said. You were so close to bursting out laughing. This was the elixir for all your troubles, Jayce Tallis and Viktor bickering. They could go for hours really.

“The deadlines! I meant the deadlines!” Jayce corrected himself

His shoulders deflated and you snickered, stealing a glance at Viktor, who was supporting a disapproving expression, holding his head on his fingertip, slightly shaking it.

“No worries Councilor. I understand these are…trying times.” You acknowledge, trying to get him out of his funk. “Yes.” He sighed deeply, stealing a glance at Mel’s form behind him. 

“You should go to her.” You encouraged softly, he looked at you surprised and you shrugged. “Help with the speech and all. United front. The councilors and the science.”

And if he was on stage, the criminal that was gonna jump her would be easier to fend off too. Jayce would jump at the opportunity to be a hero and unlike others, he would do it without wanting recognition, although it kept knocking on his door. That’s just who he was.

“Viktor?” He asked and you turned to look at his partner. “Go. If this is your conduit with all of our patrons, I fear we won’t have any funding left when this is over.” He rolled his eyes but smiled at his friend. “They’re right. Mel looks like she could use a muscled, broad shoulder to lean on right now.”

Jayce nodded and sighed, gaze moving to you again. He pushed his hand out again and you took it.

“I am sorry. I’m usually much more… likable.”  “You still are. Good luck.” 

You watch him walk back to Mel and place a gentle hand on her lower back, her shoulders immediately relaxing. Mel had been a good friend once upon a time and a fighter until the end.

“Please don’t judge him too harshly. He has good intentions…most of the time.” Viktor gave you a one-shoulder shrug accompanied by a side smile.

You saw a flash of pink behind him and noticed Vi approaching the center of the square, hunched down, hands in pockets. The ensemble cast was almost all here. Searching the crowd you felt a couple of eyes on you and turned your gaze to the only missing piece of the night.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Her eyes held the intensity of grief and loss, but also the need for vengeance and retribution and you were her closest target at the moment.

The lights began to dim and you sighed, turning your back to the Enforcer towards the stage. Let the show begin. 

People kept filling the empty spaces and getting closer to hear and see the speech. You felt Viktor’s presence behind you and took a deep breath. If something happened it would be easier to have him here where you could account for him, rather than him being with Jayce on stage.

The place was now packed with a multitude of people, from all places in Piltover. Well, all places on this side of the bridge. Some had settled in a position where they could see the unveiling while others kept moving around trying to find a better spot. 

A rushing couple was making their way to the front of the square and hit Viktor’s cane. The familiar thud and a surprised grunt were enough for you to step backward and put an arm up, without turning to him, knowing full well how he would usually stand, leaning his full weight on his walking aid.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, placing a hand on your clothed shoulder and another in your arm, to keep his balance. “No problem.” You whispered, trying to distract yourself from the touch by placing the tip of your foot under the cane and jerking your leg up, pulling the cane upwards to your hand. “Here you go.”

Viktor grabbed the cane with the hand that had been in your arm but kept the other on your shoulder. He didn’t know it, but this was a somewhat normal stance for both of you. Either a hand on the shoulder or in the crooked of your elbow. Especially on his worst days. Now it was starting to grow heavier and heavier. 

It's just Viktor. Good old reliable Viktor. You repeated and stole a glance at your present company, his always cold hand gently grasping your shoulder, his neck craned a bit to check the people around him, his golden eyes narrowed as he looked onto the crowd.

“You’re staring. “ he announced, his eyes turning to look down at you for a second and going back to scan the crowd. “Just wondering why you're standing here and not there.” You pointed to the backstage entrance, heavily guarded by two Enforcers. “Well, since I am here against my will, might as well stand wherever I feel like.” You snorted and saw him shrug. “Besides, I have seen and talked with these faces before. Many times. You are undoubtedly the most interesting person in the room.”

You blinked a couple of times, looking up at the man, who finally dropped his gaze to you. It takes him a moment to understand the words that came out. So much like Jayce sometimes. After a beat, he shrugged.

“Eh…it’s the truth. Do with it what you want.” His shoulders relaxed and he turned his face to the stage, and the curtains opened. You felt your cheeks redden involuntarily.

A podium stood in front of something covered with a sheet. You inhaled, held it, and exhaled. Mel began her speech and you mimicked Viktor’s action from before, your eyes darting from left to right, checking every face in the crowd, every enforcer. You spotted Vi, with her pink hair and bright red coat, although she wasn’t looking at the stage but at Caitlyn, who, much like you was scanning the crowd.

Mel’s melodic voice kept going and you kept scanning. Your focus shifted from the people to the glass house around you. It was a beautiful structure, glass and cast iron. A greenhouse of sorts, made for any type of celebration.  The glass ceiling gave everyone a beautiful view of the night sky, not yet fully dark, some purple reminiscing from the sunset. 

“I’ll never understand Piltover’s obsession with glass ceilings.” Viktor whispered as you were looking up, matching your own silent concern from before.

“People in glass houses, throwing rocks at people with glass ceilings.” You mumbled back, turning your head towards his, watching his golden orbs observing you with curiosity.

“Something like that, yes.”

You turned your head back to the stage where the statue of the three deceased councilors was displayed. Anytime now. 

The beat of your heart was quickly ramping up, loud and rhythmic, only countered by your slow breathing. You became hyper-focused. Every single movement, sound, or feeling was exacerbated. 

Clothes rustling, soft sniffles, feet shuffling on the ground. The thunderous ‘ba-dum’ of your heart in your ears, Viktor’s breathing behind you, his cane scraping the floor to find a more comfortable position, his hand on your shoulders.

Your breath quickened and you became aware of how many people were inside the glass house, how it had taken a single person on stage to make this crowd stomp their way out. 

The ripping of clothes as people ran, the sound of glass breaking, the shards burning where they slashed anything soft, the sound of children crying, the last gasp someone took before dying. 

Your eyes glazed over as your focus became panicked. You won’t be able to run out fast enough, Jayce would get Mel, Caitlyn would help Vi and you could easily grasp Viktor's arm and drag him out. But what about them, the others, the innocent people who were simply living? You couldn't save them all.

A cane scraped the ground again and something squeezed your shoulder. You looked at it. Purple sinewy fingertips, squeezing your shoulder, golden gears around his wrists.

“I need to go…” you managed to blurt out as the line between this reality and the other started to blur.

“Is everything ok?” Viktor’s soft voice sounded worried. But you heard the twisted metallic twang he had gotten after…ascending…adding a cruel ‘my friend’.

“I can’t breathe.” You choked, starting to walk backward into the protesting crowd. 

You bumped into someone and whipped your head around to look back at the angry figure. The figure of an angry woman glitched into an imposing, familiar construct. And your body just stopped moving. You willed your feet to run and get as far from the enemy as fast as possible, but nothing. You tried to get your arms to punch the thing. But all you could do was blink at the mechanical deadly beauty. 

“You’re not here. I’m not there.” You mumbled incoherently.

You felt a hand grab your elbow and pull you away from the creature and into the wall of shadows that were forming around you.

“Excuse me. Thank you.” You heard someone in front of you mumble as they dragged you along by the elbow. “Coming through. Thank you kindly, good sir.”

You let yourself be dragged, looking over your shoulder towards the angel you stood tall and bright, tilting its head. 

“Oh no…” you whimpered. “I have you. Come on.”

Your breathing started to hitch at your throat, your face flushed, and your heart both felt like it was stopping and going faster. 

The cool night air hit your face and you turned your face towards the night sky, your wide eyes losing sight of the robot. The hand on your elbow moved lower and was now holding your hand, gently pulling you along the sidewalk. A cold, pale, calloused hand with long fingers. Human. Viktor.

The sounds of your footsteps mixed with the gentle tap of Viktor’s cane had your mind finding perch in this reality again. 

“Vik?” You squeaked and the scientist stopped to look at you, his eyes filled with concern. “Come. It’s a close walk to the Lab. It will be quiet at this time.”

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg

[h0neylevi]

Chapter Two

After a major shift, your life has become a series of monotonous routines. Eat, sleep, go to work, repeat. But when you find a man bleeding on the subway with no idea how he got there, things become anything but ordinary.

General content warnings: isekai/parallel universe, modern AU, mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, some light angst, eventual smut.

chapter warnings: brief discussion of human trafficking

word count: 3.2k

“Where did you find him again?”

“On my way home last night on the subway.”

“... And he was–”

“In the full scout uniform, yeah.”

Your friend and fellow nurse, Allie, pauses in the wake of your words, eyes fixed on the door at the other end of the hall where one of the hospital’s doctors took Levi to be examined.

They’ve been back there for over an hour now, and you’re starting to get nervous. If this goes badly, you’re never going to live it down with your coworkers.

“Is he hot?”

Your jaw hangs when Allie’s words register, and you turn back to her with an incredulous look.

“I told you all that and that’s what you take from it?”

She raises her hands up in a defensive gesture. “I’m just saying, if the universe decided to drop a man into my lap that thought he was Erwin Smith, I would take advantage of the situation.”

That, oddly enough, makes you laugh.

“He isn’t Levi Ackerman,” you say once you’ve calmed down. “He probably just hit his head on the way from a costume party and got confused.”

On the other side of the nurse’s station, Allie groans and gets up. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I’m being realistic,” you defend.

“We see weirder things walk into this hospital every day.”

“I think an anime character come to life would surpass anything we’ve ever seen.”

With a defeated little sigh, she grabs a file and rounds the corner. “Well, whatever he is, I have to get back to work.” She taps the file on your shoulder as she passes. “Have fun with Beyblade. Let me know what Paul says.”

Just as she starts down the corridor, the door at the end of the hall opens and Dr. Paul Holloway exits the exam room. His expression is solemn as he gestures for you to join him.

“Thank you again for doing this on such short notice, Dr. Holloway,” you greet him. “Did you find out anything?”

He looks down for a moment at the clipboard in his hand. “Well, the only thing really to note is that he doesn’t seem to know what year it is or where he is, but all of his tests and scans came back normal. Cognition and reflexes otherwise seem to be just fine.”

He rifles through the pages for a moment before continuing. “There are no drugs in his system, and no significant injuries that I could find that would cause this sort of temporary amnesia, so I would have to refer him out to a specialist if you wanted more answers. But as of now, my only guess could be that maybe he was trafficked and escaped. Possibly in a fugue state for so long that he has no recollection of how he got here.”

You listen intently. That wouldn’t explain the clothes you found him in, but it’s worth considering all the same. Large cities were usually hubs for human trafficking. It’s more likely than Allie’s theory at least.

Dr. Holloway seems to sense your thought process. “He should recover his memories soon, but I would suggest maybe filing a police report. I’m sure he has a family out there somewhere who’s missing him.”

You consider it. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “I’ll mention it. Thanks again, Dr. Holloway.”

“Of course.”

You wait quietly as he opens the exam room door again and beckons Levi out.

He’s just as passive as ever when he sees you waiting. With a departing nod, Dr. Holloway continues down the hall to another exam room.

“So,” you begin, “how are you feeling?”

“Like a test subject,” Levi grumbles, falling into step with you. “Four-Eyes would love this place.”

You turn to look at him. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” he quickly says. “So, are you satisfied now? I can go?”

You walk through the nearby exit door on the side of the building and onto the street.

“Well, Dr. Holloway didn’t find anything wrong, so I guess you’re welcome to go wherever you like,” you say. “But I really think you should go to the police. I think something really bad has happened to you, Levi. They might be able to help you.”

While you speak, Levi looks around, studying the cars as they pass and the tall buildings.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” he sighs. “I think I’m too far from home to go back.”

The recognition that bleeds through his tone makes you curious. “Do you remember where you’re from?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His mouth twists into a frown. “It’s definitely not around here.”

You want to keep pressing but ultimately decide against it. It isn’t as if it’s any of your business, but you feel a sense of responsibility for his well-being. You were the one who found him, and if you have the means to help him get to where he needs to go, you’d be willing to offer. It isn’t as if you’ve got anything else going on in your life, but you can only do so much when he doesn’t want you to pry into his personal life.

“Well...” you trail off, unsure. “I need to get some groceries but once we get back to my place, I can wash your clothes before you leave. That’ll give you some time to decide what you want to do.”

To your surprise, it doesn’t take him long to agree.

“Okay,” he nods. “Let’s go.”

**

The supermarket isn’t far from your apartment, so you get onto the city metro together. It’s a familiar route to you, but it’s clear that Levi isn’t accustomed to the amount of people that cram themselves together into the narrow space at once.

There aren’t any seats when you climb on, so you’re forced to stand together in one of the corner exits. At the very least, Levi remembers to grab onto one of the handrails just before the train starts moving—an action that he still seems to find disgusting despite the necessity.

“What?” you laugh at his pinched expression.

“I think I preferred it the way it was last night,” he remarks, not doing anything to hide his distaste while looking around. “How often do these things get cleaned?”

You blink. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably only when something seriously hazardous happens. Like blood or puke.”

The look on his face only grows.

“Don’t worry. I have sanitizer in my bag. I can give you some when we get off,” you promise. “I never got rid of the habit from covid.”

The way Levi’s brows furrow suggest that he doesn’t know what either of those things are either, but you just shake your head, wordlessly promising to explain later.

Once you’re off the train and back out onto the street, you move to the side to pull the aforementioned bottle out of your bag. Levi watches quietly until you reach and squeeze some of the liquid into his upturned palm.

He lifts it closer to his face. “What is this?”

“It’s sanitizer,” you say, rubbing your hands together. “Just rub it in like this. It kills the germs on your hands that you can get from touching random surfaces.”

He follows your example, albeit a bit more slowly, and you set off again down the street.

The rest of the walk is done mostly in silence. Thankfully, Levi doesn’t seem to mind. He chooses mostly to walk along beside you, occasionally looking up at skyscrapers as you pass them or balk at the occasional interaction on the street. There’s a sense of wonder and curiosity that settles on his face, smoothing out the stern glare that you’ve seen him wear since you first found him on the metro.

It really is like he’s never seen anything like it before, and you wonder again about his history. He doesn’t seem afraid of anything, merely curious as he walks, and he carries himself confidently. Like a soldier…

No, that was Allie influencing your thoughts. There’s no way this man was the Levi Ackerman. Even if he had his hair, his stature, the same sullen expression, and similar mannerisms to ones you’ve seen in the anime. It’s an impossible thought. You’re not even considering it.

“What are you staring at?”

You blink and realize that he’s looking at you now and holy shit, his eyes are even that shade of blue-grey.

You turn forward again just as a crosswalk changes for you to go. “Nothing,” you say quickly. “You just… remind me of someone.”

He doesn’t reply—most likely because he doesn’t care—but you’re grateful that he doesn’t pay it any mind.

But by the time you’ve entered the supermarket and grabbed a cart, your curiosity outweighs your hesitation.

“Can I ask you something?”

Beside you, Levi scans the produce aisle you’re approaching with passive interest. “That depends.”

Ignoring him, you press forward. “Is there some reason you won’t tell me what’s going on?”

You speak and he turns to look at you, his brows furrowed.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious that there’s more to what happened than you’re letting on,” you continue. “And I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“You’re right. It is none of your business.”

The comment stings more than you expect, but you try to quickly brush it off. You don’t know this man, and in a matter of an hour or so he’ll be gone. You’d promised yourself that as long as he was healthy, you wouldn’t meddle.

But after everything you’ve done for him, it still feels unfair to treat you so dismissively. He acts like you’re a nuisance more than the person who cleaned him up and gave him a place to sleep out of the cold.

The ensuing silence is tense. You push your cart forward, suddenly eager to get out as quickly as possible. The faster you get home, the quicker he leaves. If that’s what he wants after everything you’ve done, he can have it.

You’re moving through the selection of deli cheeses when Levi speaks up again.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says in a low voice. “I wouldn’t believe it myself if I wasn’t witnessing it with my own eyes.”

You look around, following his gaze as it skims over the refrigerated walls of pre-packaged meat and cheese.

“What are you talking about? It’s a grocery store.”

He huffs. “That doctor said the year was 2024.”

You change course, leading the way into an aisle of canned goods. “Yeah?”

It’s quiet for a long moment. Levi’s arms are crossed over his chest as he follows along.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I’m not from here.” He pauses for a moment as you pull some cans from a shelf and place them in your cart. “I’m not from this time.”

You stop for a moment and look at him. On his face is the same look he had the night before, that same sincerity when he told you he’d been looking for some sort of headquarters.

You can’t help it. You chuckle. “You’re talking about time travel.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

You continue down the aisle and turn into the next one. “Levi, there’s never been a recorded instance of time travel…ever. It’s never happened.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “See? You don’t believe me.”

“It isn’t about believing you. It’s impossible.”

But even as you say it, you don’t feel entirely convinced that it’s true.

Improbable, sure. Very unlikely. Insane that you’re even considering it, but the more you think about it, the more the pieces seem to fall into place.

The way you found him, his clothes, the way he looks around at everything like he’s seeing it all for the first time. There’s no indication that he has a serious head injury, so you can’t fall back on that anymore. And the trafficking? Well… You’ve been trained to look for red flags, and nothing about his situation seems to fit with that explanation.

Plus, there are the coins you found in the pockets of his clothes this morning. Copper and silver ones bearing symbols you don’t recognize. The silhouette of a woman in a crown.

You’d looked up every conceivable country that you could think of that might fit the bill and nothing had matched.

There’s no way that what he’s saying is true though, right? If you believe him, you’d have to believe all of it—meaning that he is Levi Ackerman and that the events of Attack on Titan are real.

No, that’s silly. In all of recorded history, there’s never been a single event that coincides with the existence of man-eating titans. Belief in giants is a fringe theory not backed by actual evidence.

But, still. Just to humor him.

“What time are you from then?” you ask.

“854.”

You stop and stare at him. “You realize that’s…over a thousand years ago, right?”

With his mouth in a thin line, Levi nods.

You continue to stare, waiting for a break in his composure. The inevitable laugh that will surely come, marking this entire conversation as a joke, but it never comes.

“You’re serious,” you finally say.

Levi blinks. “You believe me?”

God, what do you believe? “I…” You bring your hands to your face. The middle of the pasta aisle is not the place to be weighing the possibility of time travel. “No,” you finally say. “I mean, I don’t know…can you prove it?”

Levi raises a brow. “How am I supposed to prove it to you?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one claiming to be over a thousand years old.”

“I’m not claiming to be—” he cuts himself off with an irritated sigh. “You’re just as bad as the brats back home.”

Something in your patience finally snaps.

You start walking again, needing space. “You know, you could stand to be a bit nicer to me considering all I’ve done for you.”

For a long moment, there’s only the rattling sound of the cart’s wheels as they roll down the aisle.

“I am grateful,” Levi finally says, surprisingly still following next to you. “But I didn’t ask you to interfere.”

“Well, most people wouldn’t have just left a man to bleed all over the metro. I’m sorry I have basic human decency.”

“Basic human decency would have been pointing me in the direction of the nearest sink,” he points out. “You let me sleep on your couch.”

You turn to glare at him. “I’m sorry, are you complaining right now?”

“I’m saying that I don’t like owing people,” he says.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You don’t owe me anything. I would have done the same thing for anyone.”

Levi doesn’t look like he completely believes you, but at least he lets the matter rest. 

He follows you the rest of the way through the store in thoughtful silence.

Left to your own devices, you grab things without thinking, relying on muscle memory to lead you to the items you usually buy. It isn’t as if you deviate much from your favorite meals, so the rest of the process is quick.

By the time you’ve grabbed everything you need, your mood has improved enough that you feel a bit remorseful for doubting him.

Even if it was a weird idea, Levi appeared genuine. Like Dr. Holloway had said, he’d probably regain his memories soon. If he really didn’t remember anything about modern life, he was going to need someone to help him.

Maybe he shouldn’t leave so soon.

It isn’t until you turn around to speak that you realize you’re alone. A quick look around the aisle confirms that Levi’s nowhere to be seen. That’s odd. When had he wandered off?

You begin searching back through the aisles and after a few minutes, you spot him. Standing in front of the long, neat shelves lined with tea and coffee. Something akin to dread settles into your stomach at the sight.

He glances over as you approach and places a box back on the shelf. A beat passes before he clears his throat and says, “I’ve never seen so much tea in one place before.”

“Do you want some?” you ask, glancing at the box he put back—a black tea blend. He doesn’t respond, simply skimming over the labels again with a peculiar glint in his eye.

You don’t wait for an answer and pluck the box off of the shelf. He doesn’t stop you as you place it into your cart.

It’s a truce. An apology and an acknowledgment that you’re helping him all in one.

You turn your cart back around and lead the way toward the front. “I’m all done. Let’s go.”

**

The walk back home isn’t as tense as before, but it isn’t exactly comfortable either.

You keep watching Levi every chance you get. He appears more thoughtful. His gaze lingers just as it always has on the buildings and the people walking past. Cars, billboards, restaurants, all of it.

It’s got to be overwhelming. Not that you're believing him, but if he believes that he isn’t from this time, it has to be a shock to see so many unfamiliar things at once.

“What are you thinking about?” you finally ask.

His expression remains passive as he takes a deep breath, like he’s grounding himself. “Everything just looks so…”

“Artificial?” you supply when he pauses, but the look on his face tells you he’s confused by the word you use. You try again. “Uh, not natural?”

“I was going to say clean.” His voice goes soft as he looks around again. “The air is clean.”

Not sure how to respond, you turn forward and continue down the street.

It doesn’t take much longer to reach your apartment.

Levi helps carry the bags of groceries upstairs and into your kitchen, where he stands awkwardly as you unload everything into their respective spots. Luna, still curious, climbs onto the table nearby, making Levi scowl.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t shoo her away when he decides to take a seat, and he even goes so far as to let her sniff him as he looks out of the window.

You smile when you hear her chirp. A noise that you know she makes when she feels like she’s being ignored.

“You can pet her, you know?” you look over your shoulder to tell him.

He meets you with a bored look. “I know. I don’t want to.”

As if she can understand him, Luna meows again.

After you put the last item away in your fridge, you move to sit at the table across from him.

“So what are you going to do?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he replies, and for the first time, he sounds truly at a loss.

“Well, you’re welcome to keep staying here for a bit longer,” you say, petting Luna when she slinks over to you. “Until we figure something out.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “We,” he repeats.

You meet his gaze evenly. “Look, I don’t know where you came from or how you got here, but you’re here now and you’re still a human being. As long as you’re open to letting me help, I will.”

He seems to think on it for a moment before agreeing. “There are worse things in the world, I suppose.”

And you think that’s as close to a thank you as you’ll get.

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

masterlist (part 1,2,3,4) Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[a-spes]

| THE PLACE WE'VE BEEN DREAMING OF - Imagine (1,109 words).

| Summary - when Natasha enventually gives in, and accept her wife's demand to adopt a pet.

| Tags & warning - Men & Minors DNI, soft dark!wandanat x R, not really pet play but R is reffered to as one (stray/mutt/it), a man being mean, mentions of death, hints of (past) abuse, pure fluff/comfort.

| Author's note - I wrote that quickly because it has been on my mind for so long, and I definitely needed to share it with the world, but hope you'll enjoy it anyway! I'll definitely write a longer version of it when I've time, but for the moment, here goes the first introduction to The place we've been dreaming of alternative universe (and it's only the beginning because i've so many thoughts to share about it) <3

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

it was wands' idea. she had begging nat for years, talking about how good it would be to have a pet, just to bring a bit of life in the household.

and that's exactly what natasha feared. because she likes how quiet, and tidy, her house is. she likes the routine she built with her wife over the years, and she is reluctant to bring another piece in her house.

but how could she deny her wife when she begs her with those puppy eyes?

so she eventually gave in, and they went into a place that's only known by the richest persons. it's kind of a shelter, but instead of animals, human being are sold.

they walked in, wands looking in the cages while nat roll her eyes everytime she tries to have her opinion. "did you find what you want?" the seller asked, and nat looks at her wife that seems to hesitate. "what's over here?" she asked back, pointing to a noisy alley that constrats with the quiet one they've just travelled.

the sellers just dismissed her question, "they're unfit" he just replied, "they're going to be send off tomorrow". "where?" wands asked. "to be killed", he replied, but when he tried to get the conversation back on his best goods, wanda ignored him: she wanted to see these ones. nat isn't surprised, her wife always having a thing for saving broken being, but she still roll her eyes, thinking about the additionnal trouble it'll bring.

so, before the man could say anything, they walk in the alley. the ambience is different. yells, cries, and dark glances greet the women, while in the first alley, everyone's was perfect. nat cringes while her wife walk around, until she crouches in front of a cage that, at the first sight, appears to be empty.

except that, that you are here. in the back of the cage, hiding where the light can barely find you, trying to forget where you are. the noise is frightening you, but your hands covering your ears isn't enough to reduce it. the yells from the other still bugging you.

you've no idea for how long you've been here, but it felt like an eternity. you've been sent back here by your previous owner, it was your last chance, you've been told, and you don't know what's going to happen. when the door clicked, you thought your hour had come, and it only made you curl up further.

but the hand that came for you wasn't harsh. it hasn't tried to grab you. when you eventually open your eyes, your met by the sight of a woman, that's trying to get you to come to her. her voice is sweet. she doesn't yell as you thought she would when you didn't move at first.

the men had to bang against the walls to get you out, which earn him a glance from both of the women. he ignored them. "this stray has one of the worse behavior. she bites, is noisy, messy, agressive, ..." but wanda isn't listening anymore. she is just looking at you, sitting in front of her, unable to ignore the look on your eyes. the fear, and the exhaustion.

you didn't bite. you didn't made a noise. you didn't try to run away.

you only flinched when she reach out to stroke your cheek, but a second was enough for you to lean into her contact. it was so sweet. so gentle. and, for the first time, it felt genuine, and even the slap or the harsh grip you were waiting for never came. she was looking at you with pity, and something you couldn't name yet.

"... she couldn't behave even to save her life, we've tried everything. she's trouble", he adds, still talking even if none of the women is caring about his opinion, "believe me, she'll be better dead", and nat muttered something how he should be the one to die, while wanda didn't listen at all to his speech, all her attention being on you right now.

"you're sure that's the one you want, wands?" she asked, but she already knew her wife would nod, and she is definitely not going to fight her, especially when she sees how attached she already seems to be.

she looked at her while she take a biscuit out of her pocket, just to give a bit to you, but ends up giving you everything when she notices how you inhaled it. her brows furrowing together, but she doesn't say a word. she knows it would be useless to start a scene right now, this man perfectly knowing how bad he is treating you, and everyone else here. or maybe he doesn't, and doesn't realizes, thinking you deserve it, and then it would be pointless to argue with him. in that instant, she wishes she could take them all home, and if she can't, she can at least save one life.

"we didn't even bring her home yet that you're already spoiling her" nat complained, rolling her eyes. a whispered, "she deserves it", is muttered under her breath while the man seems annoyed, "if you're too lenient, you're going to regret it. you need to be firm with these things, you know." "and how would you know?" nat would ask, "apparently it didn't work well, from what you said earlier" and she smirks when she notices he starts to loose his temper, his voice being harsh when he replies, "then do not even think about taking her back when you'll realize how bad she is," just to nat to assure him that he "doesn't need to worry about that".

she isn't found of her wife's choice. she would have prefer it if she choose one of the perfect pet from the first alley. one of the one that wouldn't disturb her peace. but obviously her wife had to go for a stray, a mott, and a broken one by the way. but if there are two things she enjoys it's seeing her wife smiling, and pissing off men that thinks they know everything. if adopting that one allows to do it both at the same time, then she's all for it. a part of her wanting to prove the man that he is just wrong, and is the problem in that story.

[ironstrange1991]

Affection

Pairing: Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,9k

Synopsis: A night at one of Tony's parties ends in a serious fight between you and Supreme and now he must find a way to make you forgive him.

Warnings: Use of the word "Whore", SMUT: prenetrative sex, angry sex, orgasm denial.

A/N: This one was supposed to be a brain rot smut, but I ended up developing the emotional part much more than the smut itself, however I really liked the result and I also thought it matched the inspiration that was the song. it is within the Multiple Stephens universe because I needed to include Defender Strange for plot reasons. I hope you like it and have a good reading ;)

Supreme Strange was a affectionate man. Maybe he wasn't the most romantic or the most attentive. He definitely wasn't as sweet as Defender or as understanding as the good doctor, but he prided himself on being a affectionate boyfriend. To his own standards. Sure, he used to get a little mean when he got jealous and you said he had a sharp tongue when he drank, but so what, right? Saying I love you or go fuck yourself were two ways of saying he cared, it was affection all the same.

He sighed, checking his phone for the tenth time that morning alone, acknowledging that maybe he had crossed the line in the last fight you had. Just a little. You refused to talk to him, you didn't answer his texts, and you were clearly waiting for a formal apology, but he wasn't the least bit inclined to do so once he knew that, even though he had crossed the line in his reaction, he had every right to be angry.

It all started at one of Tony Stark's parties. The night had started off really well, the three Stephens were there, you were happy about that because it wasn't common for the three of them to go out with you. You both had drunk that night. Stephen and Defender not much, but he had drunk a lot and you had allowed yourself a few glasses of champagne. You danced, to electronic music, which he hated, but at the time it seemed fun, you kissed, you made love in one of the tower's rooms - although making love wasn't exactly the name he would give to what you did there - and everything was fine until he saw you full of smiles and looks with Thor Odinson. You were friends, he understood that, but from friends to what he was witnessing there was a huge distance. You were practically sitting on the Asgardian's lap while you idiotically tried to lift his damn hammer. - And Supreme found himself wondering if you weren't trying to lift something else from the Norse god. It was indecent and ridiculous and he found himself wondering why the others weren't as outraged by the scene as he was. They both just watched the scene from afar and laughed and talked to each other like the good friends they were.

In the end, Supreme couldn't contain himself, much less hide his displeasure with the allegedly innocent joke, and a minute later he was dragging you by the arm to the huge balcony of the building and hurling every kind of accusation and insult that his dirty mouth could muster.

"I can't believe you're saying that!" You replied indignantly and slightly offended.

"Oh no? That's because you can't know what I'm thinking." He spat back, "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you looked there? As if having three cocks isn't enough for you. Do you need another one?"

"You're drunk," you accused, and your eyes filled with tears, but he didn't let them move him.

"I'm not the one embarrassing myself for everyone to see. You should be ashamed of yourself acting like a fucking whore." He said, and your answer came too quickly for him to defend himself. You slapped him hard in the face and then raised your fists against his chest, striking him while you gave in to your tears and rage.

"You bastard, I hate you. I fucking hate you." You said it over and over until he grabbed your hands and pushed you against the wall, keeping you trapped there and making you look at him.

“You're mine, do you understand? Fucking mine!" He shouted and then kissed you roughly. Too roughly. His kiss, always full of love and passion, felt more like an assault to him, and he liked it.

You tried to fight him, but there wasn't much your small frame could do against his muscular body other than surrender, and that's exactly what you did, and somehow he knew that was where he really hurt you, when he made you see the power he had over you. But you kissed him back, even if you were angry, and it was impossible to know if the night would have ended differently if the two of you hadn't been interrupted by Defender Strange. Always him. The good Samaritan.

"Supreme, let her go." He heard him say just as he had taken your lips by force again and you were giving in. "You're drunk and you're hurting her."

Supreme could have started a fight right there, but he just stepped away, looking at his other self with disdain. "If you were half the man you think you are, you would be as offended as I am by that deplorable scene." He accused.

"Because I'm a better man than you are, I know there was no malice on either side. They were just having fun, and you would know that if you weren't so sickly jealous."

"Because I love her." He said through gritted teeth.

"Because you confuse love with possession," Defender replied and Supreme felt an overwhelming urge to punch him in the face, but he just walked right past them both, walked back to the lounge, grabbed his suit jacket that was hanging on the chair and left.

When he woke up the next morning his head felt like it was going to explode and the memories of the fight seemed distant and to some extent not a big deal, but when you didn't look him in the face during breakfast, he understood. Three days later he was checking his cell phone waiting for you to answer the countless texts he had sent just that morning while he was confined in the compound waiting for the Avengers meeting to end. He was leaving on a mission with Barton, Rogers and Romanoff in a few days and he didn't want to leave things as they were, but deep down he knew he had messed up terribly with you, even his narcissistic ass understood that his reaction wasn't normal and the fact that everything had happened at a Stark party, in front of your friends, only made things worse for him.

...

You were tired and it wasn't even noon yet. To be honest, you had no idea how you would get through that day and your mind kept playing with excuses to get up, grab your things and leave the office. Your cell phone wouldn't stop buzzing with texts from Supreme, each one more eloquent than the last and you knew their pattern well. First he would apologize saying that he had overreacted, then he would blame you for something you hadn't done, then he would say that even if you hadn't done anything wrong, you should avoid that kind of situation once you knew him and knew he would be angry. Again, he would blame you, but then he would apologize for the overreaction he had, and the cycle would go on and on.

He was so different from the other Stephens that sometimes you wondered if it was possible for them to be the same person. Stephen would never treat you like that. Defender would never talk to you like that, but Supreme always found a reason to take out all his frustrations on you and you hated him in those moments, but you couldn't help but love him in all the others.

"Y/n? Did you hear what I said?" You heard Phil saying and were dragged back to your reality inside the office, to the sound of the extremely loud air conditioning, the incessant typing on the keyboards of the computers in the booths next to yours, the hurried footsteps and the ringing of the phones.

"I'm sorry." That was all you said and he stared at you for a minute, rolling his lips and then repeated the question.

"The Link Dynamics files? I need to deliver everything to their lawyer this afternoon. Tell me you didn't forget!"

Of course you forgot. "Of course not! I'll finish reviewing them. I’ll bring them to your desk in a minute."

Phil's worried frown turned into a wide smile "You're the best, Y/n." He said and left.

To some extent, the desperation to finish your work in time for the 1pm meeting helped you forget about the issue with your problematic boyfriend and thus you managed to avoid the intrusive thoughts that told you to run away from work and lock yourself inside your room to watch bad TV shows and eat junk food.

By the end of the afternoon there were at least twenty texts that you didn't bother to read and when you got home the Sanctum was silent and your chest was enveloped by warmth when you smelled food coming from the kitchen indicating that Defender had already arrived. You took off your shoes and left your bag and keys on top of the sideboard and followed the smell to the kitchen where you found him distracted by the stove.

You didn't bother to announce your arrival, instead you approached and wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his back.

"Hi there" He chuckled, stroking your arm lightly and continued with his work. "Long day?"

"You have no idea." You groaned.

He hummed, finishing stirring what looked like a very juicy and fragrant stew. "Since you’re here, taste it for me and help me decide if it needs anything else." He asked, gently turning and bringing the spoon to your mouth, his other hand under the spoon to make sure not a drop would stain your white blouse. It was a fish stew and although you hadn't seen it, you could taste the potatoes and carrots, as well as paprika, thyme, garlic and olives perhaps. You hummed, slowly savoring it and then pretended to think for a second. "More salt, perhaps." You finally said and he raised his eyebrow.

"Really? That's not what I had in mind. I thought more pepper."

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine as it is. It’s just that you know me, I like my food with a little extra salt.”

He smirked. “I guess a pinch wouldn’t hurt.” He turned and added a pinch of salt to the stew and stirred it gently and you found yourself staring at him. He looked gorgeous, even though he looked completely normal. He wore black sweatpants and a gray long-sleeved t-shirt. His hair was tied back in its usual ponytail and his feet were bare. You loved it. Seeing him in his most natural, domestic form, doing normal things like cooking. The image always made your heart skip a beat.

“I didn’t expect you to cook tonight. I thought you’d be tired. I was already deciding between having a sandwich for dinner or ordering something.” You confessed, watching as he turned off the heat on the pot and removed a pan of gratin vegetables from the oven. He carefully placed it on the counter. "I was anxious. You know how I get before missions. I thought it would be a good idea to have a proper dinner before I go."

You couldn't hide the pout you made, and he smiled at you quickly. "I'll be back in three days." You crossed your arms. "The last time you said that you were gone for almost two weeks."

He let out a small laugh. "I know, but this time is different. I have no reason to believe something so big could happen to keep me away for so long."

You nodded, still reluctant. "I still wish you didn't go."

"Me too." He confessed and dedicated himself to setting the table and you smiled watching him arrange each plate and dish in its proper place. He was always meticulous in this matter and you found it super charming. Although the Sanctum had a beautiful dining room, you were used to eating in the kitchen. It was spacious enough and had a certain comfort that the sterile living room lacked. The smaller table could seat six people, but Defender was used to always setting out four plates. That night, however, he hesitated when setting out the fourth, but did it anyway.

You sighed as you watched him finish arranging everything and finally gave in to the matter that hung over you like a gray cloud.

"I know I can't leave things as they are, but I don't know how to move on as if nothing had happened."

He finished setting out the cutlery on the table and then rolled his lips, thinking of the best way to say what he was thinking.

"Say it."

"He's not gonna change, baby. We've been at this too long to understand that this is just the way he is, and I can say that for sure because he is me."

You shook your head. "Sometimes it's hard to believe that. You would never talk to me like that."

"But the man I was would. I've evolved, baby, I've gotten better with time and pain, but Supreme is the way he is, and you've always known that. You were already irritated with him from the start, remember? But you fell in love with him anyway."

You lowered your eyes because you couldn't bear to look him in the eye. 'Because he's you and you're Stephen.'

"Yes, I know.  We are Stephen and I’m pretty sorry for that" He said nodding. “You know I don’t blame you for falling in love with him. I just need you to understand that he is the way he is since the beginning and we don’t have any reason to believe he’s  gonna change.”

Somehow you felt guilty about the situation you had put yourself in at that party. Even though there was no malice in the joke with Thor, you had a few more glasses of champagne than you should have and that affected your judgment. Sober you would never put yourself in that situation knowing that Supreme was there watching you and by understanding that things didn’t get any easier.

"It's just... I hate him sometimes." You confessed, feeling the weight on your chest intensifying.

"But you love him anyway." Defender finished. "It's okay to admit it. I know. I always knew, since day one."

"What should I do then? I can’t pretend nothing happened." You asked, genuinely lost, but he just smiled politely.

"Rule number 16, baby."

You sighed. "You guys can't interfere when I get into a fight with another Stephen."

"Exactly. And I think I interfered too much that night, but I don't regret it, tough. I just can't tell you what you should do. However, I can tell you what I wish you wouldn't do."

You waited.

"Let him go on a mission without you guys having resolved this."

You stared at him, understanding very well where he was going with this. If something happened and Supreme got hurt, you would never forgive yourself. "Now I hate him even more." You sighed and Defender came closer, pulling you to nestle into his chest. "Love and hate are awfully close, baby. Now, let’s forget this matter for a bit so we can enjoy our meal together. What do you think?"

You nodded and he smiled contentedly, gently lifting your chin to kiss you. He did it slowly, just a touch of lips that lingered over time and made your knees go weak. It was how he got everything from you. Gently and lovingly. With Defender Strange things were always that way.

When your lips parted you let out a little moan and then confessed "I love when you kiss me like that."

He frowned "Like what?"

"Like you. Soft and gentle. You can get anything from me like that, Defender Strange."

He let out a little laugh "You think I'm soft, huh?"

You smiled feeling your face blush "Only with me. Outside you are a feared and highly respected sorcerer."

"Okay, good to know I can keep the appearances." He hummed contentedly and then kissed you again the same way.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you're super sweet."

"Thank you, baby." He said, smirking and kissing you one more time before pulling away and ordering, "Now I think it's best if you go upstairs and change. We don't want the food to get cold."

You nodded, reluctantly pulling away from him.

 "While you're at it, tell the doctor that dinner is ready. He should be in the library." He asked.

“Okay” You said walking away.

...

Supreme was distracted on the phone, confirming the last details of the mission when he heard a knock on the door. He had gotten out of the shower and was in front of the mirror, gathering the courage to shave when he was interrupted by the call from his fellow Avenger, and they had been on the phone for several minutes. Since he took a while to answer, he heard the sound of the bedroom door opening and a voice calling him, but he didn’t bothered to answer.

"I believe everything is fine, but if you have any questions, you can call me later, Romanoff." He said, hanging up the phone.

 "Supreme" Defender called and he threw the towel in the sink, giving in to laziness and leaving the bathroom.

"Dinner is ready. I thought you would want to eat with us instead of here." Defender informed, entering the room.

Supreme shook his head. "I don't want to be where I'm not welcome." He said simply. In the last few days, you had refused to sit at the table with him and that had broken his heart deeply, but he understood, or at least he was making a huge effort to understand.

"She's still mad at you. God knows she has her reasons, but she's not okay with the way things are." Defender sighed. "She misses you. Just apologize and get it over with, Supreme."

He stared at his feet for a few seconds. "I really messed up, didn't I?"

Defender chuckled nervously, "That's what you always do. You let your emotions speak louder than reason. It's amazing how different we are in that way. I have so much trouble acting with my heart instead of my head, but with you it's all the time."

Supreme sighed heavily, putting both hands on his hips, his head still down, and then nodded, glancing at Defender regretfully. "I love her. I'm jealous of her. When I saw her..." He stopped, shaking his head to rid himself of the memory. "I know I should control it, but I can't. She's mine” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Ours. She is ours. This... I can understand this thing we have because it's us, but when any other man gets close to her, I just lose my mind."

Defender nodded, "She loves us, Supreme. There is no one else. But we need to treat her much better. You need to treat her much better, Supreme. What you did... the things you said to her were unacceptable."

"I just said it, I wasn't thinking straight..."

"You called her a whore."

Supreme looked at him in surprise "I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You hurt her. She told me."

"Of course she did." There was no way to refute that. Defender was right as always and Supreme wanted to go back in time to erase that horrible night, but he couldn't do that. He needed to deal with the consequences of his actions.

"Say you are sorry." Defender ordered with his authoritative tone that always made Supreme's blood boil in his veins.

"Do you really think I haven't done that before?"

"Do it again. Say it like you mean it. Say it bluntly, without apologies, without blaming her for something you did because that's what you always do!"

Yeah, there was no way to refute that either.

"Why do you even care?"

Defender sighed, "I told you. She loves you and misses you. That's why." He said, turning to leave the room. “I just can’t stand to see the sadness in her face.”

Supreme went back to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked fine. His defined chest and visible biceps were a source of pride for him. After all, the hours he spent at the Compound gym listening to bad music had to be paid for somehow, but at that moment all he could see were the bags under his eyes resulting from sleepless nights. He knew Defender was right and he was wrong, and that was hard for him. His narcissism made everything about him, you said, but what you didn't know was that being like he was could hurt him a lot.

When he finally went down to dinner, he found you and the other Stephens already eating. Apparently, Defender had cooked that night and you were all delighted with him, giving little compliments while humming with each bite of food.

"I mean it. That's the most delicious flounder I've ever had in my life." You said, which made him almost roll his eyes, but he held himself back.

"You're still here. I thought you'd already left." Doctor Strange said as Supreme sat in the place reserved for him and right in front of you.

"Tomorrow. We're still working out some details." He answered while serving himself.

"What's the situation?" The doctor asked.

"Possible misuse of ancient magical artifacts in southern Russia. Some people died in unnatural ways, which caught the attention of the Avengers. They could be relics, which I doubt."

"I remember Wong saying he has an inventory of all the magical relics on this planet so if one go missing he would know." Defender confirmed. "Whatever it is, it's not sorcery."

Supreme took a forkful of food and had to hold back his satisfaction. It was indeed delicious and somehow that only made him feel even worse. How was it possible that one of them knew how to cook so well and the other two could barely boil water to make spaghetti?

"Witchcraft, perhaps. We've faced things like this before." Doctor Strange guessed. "You could ask Maximoff for her opinion."

"No, I can handle it." He said, glancing subtly at you. You were eating in silence now, but you must have been staring at him because your eyes met, and he could see your cheeks turn pink before you looked away.

Doctor Strange shook his head. "It's up to you, but dealing with witchcraft can be dangerous." "No. It's fine with me. I've dealt with plenty of witches in my universe." He bragged and then sipped from his glass of the white wine Defender had chosen for the evening. An excellent choice, to say the least.

Stephen didn't press the issue, but you looked directly at Supreme for the first time that day and spoke visibly irritated. At that point he suspected that the sound of his breathing was enough to irritate you. "Let's hope your arrogance doesn't get you killed one of these days, Stephen. I honestly don't know how you can stand yourself."

That hurt.

"Come on doll, don't be like that." He found himself begging as he watched you stand up and threaten to leave the table. The idea that you would rather give up such a delicious meal than endure being in his presence was devastating to him.

"Don't call me like that!" You almost yelled at him, which made him snap too.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He almost shouted the words, standing up as well. "I'm sorry. I hurt you and said things I shouldn't have. I overreacted and it wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. I'm so sorry."

He couldn't believe how saying those words felt like it lifted a weight off his chest. He needed this as much as you did, apparently.

However, it took you so long to show any reaction that the relief was quickly replaced by the fear that he had somehow managed to make everything even worse. You just stood there staring at him. The other Stephens didn't dare say anything. Supreme was pretty sure they were barely breathing for fear of breaking some stupid rule of theirs by interfering. "Honey... I love you. Please, talk to me. Forgive me. It wasn't your fault, it was my fault and my fault alone and I'm sorry for saying otherwise and I'm sorry for being the way I am, but please, I can't take this anymore. I miss you." Your reaction to his words was so abrupt that he barely realized what you were doing when you ran and went around the table and then threw yourself into his arms. The next thing he knew, he had your head in his hands and was kissing every inch of your face, forehead, eyes, nose, cheek and only then did he kiss your sweet lips and the little moan you let out when he deepened the kiss made his whole body tingle.

"Finally" he heard one of the Stephens say softly.

"Why did it take you so long to say it?" You asked against his lips.

"Because I'm a fool." He heard himself say and then pulled you back to his lips.

...

There were so many types of sex and you loved every single one of them. Lazy sex, when you woke up in the morning together and could afford to stay in bed late. It was usually slow and unpretentious. There was also homecoming sex, when Stephen came back from a mission after being away for weeks. It was always hard and desperate and full of sweat and saliva. Midnight sex, when one of you woke the other up to make love, sometimes it ended in cockwarming and both of you fell asleep without cumming, but that was never the goal.

That particular night you were introduced to a different form of sex, one that everyone talks about but that you had never experienced: Makeup sex.

You barely realized how you got to the bedroom. One minute you were eating dinner and the next you were devouring Supreme's mouth as he slammed the door behind you and you jumped on his lap. A moment later you were both naked and he was directing his cock at your entrance.

He wasn't gentle, actually, the thing about makeup sex is that it's not gentle. There's too much feeling involved and a desperate need to satisfy a pent-up desire.

"Shit, honey..." he cursed through his teeth as he finally buried himself inside you. The stretch was welcome and before he could say anything that would ruin the moment, you shut him up with another kiss, using the situation to your advantage to take control of the kiss. You used the support of your hands on his shoulders to bounce on his dick and your eyes rolled back with pleasure and you found yourself confessing on his lips.

"Oh I missed this. I missed you."

He groaned contentedly holding you by the ass and helping you move up and down on his cock, but a minute later he was throwing you on the mattress and coming on top of you. He entered you quickly and your legs locked on his hips while your nails dug into the skin of his back. He forced himself against you like a desperate man, it was something primal and delicious and your body responded to each thrust with the same desperation, producing more and more of that wetness that made him slide inside you with frightening ease and at the same time made an obscene squelching and wet sound.

"Fuck" He rasped between your lips "You're so fucking wet for me, honey. Feels so good."

You just hummed in response, at that point your mind was completely incapable of formulating a sentence, your heart was racing and there were so many emotions involved.

"I missed you so much. I'm sorry, love. I promise I will be better. I just... was so jealous. I am so jealous of you all the time and when I saw..."

"Shut up, Stephen" You said using all your strength to push him off of you. He didn't resist, he just rolled over on the bed and let you go on top of him. You slid him inside you again, taking control with a certain desperation and he allowed it. Supreme was not submissive, in fact he never allowed himself to be in a position where he was not in control, but that night he did not hesitate to let you ride him and you did it with force, with anger, with something more than just the pleasure you felt. It was as if by subjugating him like that you were making up for everything he had put you through in the last few days.

It didn't last long. And you didn't care. Your eyes closed, feeling the familiar tightening in the pit of your stomach and you didn't fight against it, you kept moving, grinding against him like an animal in heat as sweat ran down your neck and your breathing became labored and labored. The muscles in your thighs ached with the intensity of your movements, but you didn't care either, you needed to keep going, you needed your release, you needed that sweet catharsis to wash your soul and body and maybe then you could leave everything that happened behind. Sex as a cure. When the knot finally broke you let out a moan so loud that you knew anyone inside the Sanctum could hear it, the orgasm so strong it felt like you were going to pass out right there. It was over. You were his and he was yours and love had healed everything. Love would always heal everything.

...

Stephen had never felt that way before. It was easy to say that he had never seen you act that way before. The way you used him to reach your high was almost offensive, as if he was nothing more than a cock you could rub yourself against until you got what you wanted and that should have made him angry, but on the contrary, it was fucking hot. Maybe, and just maybe, he could understand the appeal that submission had with Defender. It was sexy with you.

However, when he realized that when you were done you simply dismounted him and threw yourself on the bed without giving him the chance to join in that bliss with you, he understood. The sex hadn't been for him, and you still hadn't said you had forgiven him.

You lay there in silence, and he chuckled nervously feeling his dick throb in protest. He ran a hand over his face and then turned to look at you and there were tears in your eyes and his heart broke into pieces knowing that it was his fault.

"I never meant to make you mad, you know? I was joking. Thor is like a brother to me. All of them..." You stopped as your voice broke and then took a deep breath before continuing. "They're my friends."

He was silent for a minute. All the adrenaline from the unfinished sex was quickly fading and replaced by remorse. "I know."

You wiped a tear that ran down the side of your face and then smiled at him, and the smile was sad. "There is only you, Stephen."

It wasn't easy for someone like him to admit when he was wrong, but in that moment, Supreme understood how cruel his behavior was and how he always managed to hurt you even when he knew you were the person he loved most in the world. How fucking contradictory could that be? His stomach churned with self-disgust, but he took a deep breath and cupped your cheek gently and pulled you in for a kiss. Soft, slow, completely unlike the sex had been, but with the same intensity of emotion involved. When your lips parted he could feel his eyes wet with tears he refused to shed and he was finally ready to tell you how sorry he was for everything when you covered his mouth with your fingertips and smiled.

"I know. I don't want to talk about what happened anymore, I just want to stay here with you. Please."

And how could he deny that? So he pulled you into his arms and you eagerly snuggled into his chest while he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its delicious scent. You were so sweet, so fragile and at the same time so strong. There was nothing he could say to explain how much he loved you, he just hoped you could see it in his gestures. Even the bad ones.

You were silent for a few minutes. The orgasm that had been denied to him long forgotten. His blackened fingers continued to slide slowly down your arms and you drew circles on his chest with your nails. It was comfortable and intimate, and he didn't know anything better than that.

It was you who broke the silence after several minutes. Your fingers were now playing around his lips as if outlining a goatee that wasn't there.

"You need to shave." You said and there was a hint of irritation in your voice that was almost comical, and he couldn't help but tease you about it.

"I really don't get it. I thought you liked men with beards. You live with two of them, after all."

You tsked petulantly as if it was obvious what you needed to explain.

"I like beards, not stubbles. They itch and give me allergies. And besides, they give an air of sloppiness that doesn't suit you. I'm used to seeing you always impeccable and I like it. It must be the only good thing about your narcissism."

Ouch. You could have forgiven him - though you refused to say so - but he knew it would take you a while to let it go completely. Either way, he deserved it. Whatever treatment you decided to give him, he deserved it.

"I'll shave in the morning," he said obediently.

You hummed and went silent again for a long time, long enough for him to notice your breathing becoming more regular and low and your body weighing more in his arms and just like that he knew you had fallen asleep. He stared at the ceiling with a relieved smile on his lips, but the relief was contained and he found himself remembering a random moment from last week, but at that moment as he replayed it in his head it gained a new meaning. You and he were in the living room, it was Sunday, his day to be with you and you had decided to spend that time together at home instead of going out. You had dinner and were watching a movie sprawled on the couch. His head was in your lap while you stroked his hair. It was a normal and routine moment, but Stephen passed by you and observed the scene with a disapproving look and teased "You don't deserve her."

At the time he responded with an ironic "Fuck off", but when he remembered, after everything that had happened in the last few days and everything that had happened in his universe, Supreme knew it was true. He didn't deserve you.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[horeisenchi]

“365 Party Girl..”

shiu kong x divorced!reader

(Kinda long, sorry!)

contains: age gap, oral sex(receiving), penetrative sex, light bdsm, breeding, drinking, drugs

NSFW MINORS DNI!🔞🔞🔞

profiles without age will be blocked

The long, gruelling process of your divorce was hitting you hard. Harder than you’d expected it to. The first couple of weeks, you were glued to your apartment. Thankfully, you work from home, so it did not affect your income. However, you completely stopped going out. Now, after you’d gotten married, you didn’t go out much to begin with. With marriage, it’s always feeling a sort of obligation to stay home. And almost every time you had actually planned to go out, your controlling husband would call you ‘childish’ and say you have better things to do. Those ‘better things’ being getting him off, and then going to sleep without another word. Before you got married, you were a full-blown party girl. It was a challenge for any man to be able to properly tie you down, for you feared that he wouldn’t approve of your loud and fast lifestyle. You didn’t want to quit, but you thought you’d found the right man. Until, the sex became bland and only about his own pleasure. You hadn’t orgasmed from anything other than the stimulation of your hand, or whatever toy you were hiding in your bedside table underneath all your underwear in the past two years. The past two years after you married that asshole in your second year of college. Two years of marriage wasted on a man who ended up leaving randomly one morning, without so much as a goodbye.

BZZZZZZZZZ!

You rolled over to your bedside table from the opposite side of the queen bed, that you at least now had to yourself.

You open your phone to a text from your good friend, Utahime, begging you to come out.

“(Y/NNNNNNNN)! Come oooon! I haven’t seen you in forever. You have that stupid cocksucker out of your life come partyyyyyyy!!!!”

Your eyes widen at the message. You hadn’t gone out in forever. Especially not with Utahime. Even though she was the maid of honour at your wedding, your now ex-husband didn’t want you going out with her. For decent reason you suppose, considering you two did tend to get into trouble. There was one time when a frat guy left his card at the local bar in the college town over, some private university guy, and you rung up his card for definitely more drinks than he could afford. This got you banned from being anywhere near that university campus for ten years. Your youth spent with Utahime, was coked out shenanigans and doing whatever you felt like doing. Because you were free.

You knew what you would be getting into accepting her offer, so your first inclination is to decline. You don’t do that anymore, you haven’t touched drugs let alone alcohol in almost a year. Not exactly out of choice, more so because of lack of exposure, but it was almost foreign territory for you now.

But, the more you thought about it, the more intriguing it sounded. That side of you had been forcefully suppressed by that man ever since you’d gotten with him. How do you know that you don’t really want to go, or if you’ve just been conditioned into not wanting to go and having that be your automatic response? I guess tonight would be that test.

“Okay, okay. Send me the address.”

With that text sent, you knew you were locked in for the night. No backing out.

“Tokyo Taste, huh? Alright…” you mumble as you recognize the address sent to you. The last time you’d gone to Tokyo Taste, you got hit on HARD.

The guy in question, was an underclassman named Suguru Geto. Utahime brought him with her, along with her other high school friends. It’s not that he wasn’t attractive, dear lord that man was so gorgeous and statuesque. You had no idea why he was even talking to you, honestly. It’s just that you could tell that he was bored. He wasn’t actually interested in you, he just saw you as an easy target. He so much as grabbed your waist, bought you a drink, bent down to whisper in your ear how good you looked, and how he could imagine himself ripping that short black dress off you later. But while he was doing that, he was checking out almost every other woman in the room. If you followed his gaze every time he’d back away from you, and suddenly act uninterested, it was him locking eyes with another woman. Sure, he didn’t owe you anything. You guys weren’t together, and had only met that night. But, you had more self respect than to just allow yourself to be someone’s entertainment. You wanted someone to be all in, interested. Knowing they have options but just giving you their attention. That was when you developed actual standards.

You sluggishly got up out of bed, the time being a whopping 9:30 PM, and sauntered over to your closet. Stepping inside, you let your eyes wander as you try to find suitable clothes for going out. As you rummage through your things, you remember how you threw a lot of that stuff out, remembering the judging gaze of your ex husband as you got dressed and he demanded you change and cover up.

Finally, you land on a short, off the shoulder long sleeve black dress that clung to your body. It wasn’t the most revealing, but it was really sexy nonetheless. Along with it, you put on some dainty jewelry and some black stilettos. With a last look in the mirror after fixing your hair and throwing on just a tinge of makeup, you threw your purse over your shoulder and headed out.

As you drove to the club, your gut churned a bit. Nervous, from what may come from tonight.

No, (Y/N)… don’t do anything you don’t want to..

You tell yourself before hopping out of your car, and start heading into the club. You pay the stupid $15 door fee (and wonder how the hell you managed to scrape up the money for it so often back then), and head inside.

Your eyes scan the room, searching for Utahime in the crowd of sweaty, practically half naked bodies that surrounded you. As soon as you spot her, she’s sitting on a high top table, seated in the chair with a man standing between her legs as she stares up at him, wantonly. You ultimately decide to leave her alone for a minute, inclining you to go to the bar where you flag down the bartender and order an extra dirty martini. You take your seat at the bar and sip it, as you wait for Utahime to be done with whatever man she’s currently frisking. As you’re sitting at the bar, you feel a pair of eyes on you. A man, wearing a suit (probably having come here right after work), having a cigarette at the side of the bar that was by the large open window. You quickly look away, not gathering much of his facial features.

“No.. no, (Y/N). It’s too soon.”

You tell yourself. You suddenly feel way too intensely about the man staring at you, neither deciding if it was bad or good, before you stand up and bee-line for Utahime’s table not even caring if she’s getting fingered by some random guy under the table.

Utahime spots you as you sit down with your drink. “(Y/N)! You maaaaaaaade it!” She drunkenly slurs. You can’t help but chuckle at her current state, not feeling surprised at all. “Well, you look like you’re having a good time.” She shoos the random man away, earning a confused grimace from him as he walks away.

“Aw, did I ruin your chances of getting some?” You ask with a tinge of faux-pity. “No, more like denying my dealer some action for giving me some free stuff.”

You don’t show it, but mentally you’re shaking your head at the knowledge now that she still did that stuff. But, then again you can’t judge. You were right there with her. “You wannaaaaa..?” She shakes the little clear bag full of white powder just outside of her purse before slipping it in there, giving me a look of knowing she’s trouble. You knew if you said no, she would drop it and never ask again. But, a part of you was burning. Itching for some sort of release, some type of taste of who you used to be that you let go of so long ago. You knew it was mostly for the better… but fuck it.

“Bathroom. Now.” You respond, firmly.

After heading to the handicap stall with Utahime, and doing one… two… okay, maybe three lines, you feel yourself start to loosen up. Your body on overdrive, like you just had four shots of espresso, and your mind shut off. Completely driven by your id. The two of you come out of the bathroom like two firecrackers, ready to shoot off. The next hour or so is like a blur. All you knew is that you and Utahime were loud as hell at that table, ordering drink after drink after drink, occasionally stopping to dance to whatever song you liked came on. One in particular made its way on your playlist afterward, 365 by Charli XCX. You guess it had just recently come out, considering you’d never heard it in a club before.

“Til the windows crack I’ll be (bumpin that)

No I never go home don’t sleep don’t eat just do it on repeat keep (bumpin that)

When I’m in the club yeah I’m (bumpin that)

365 party girl (bumpin that)”

Drink in hand, jaw swinging, pupils blown out, it was a high you had been chasing. It was exactly what you needed, to bring yourself back to reminding yourself who you are. You needed to be allowed to be wild, to be allowed to have freedom, you couldn’t be controlled.

You make your way back to the table with Utahime, your drunkenness showing, but you’re high from the substance dying down, allowing yourself to level out a moment. You were about to suggest to Utahime for another line, when she interrupts you.

“There’s a guy at the bar who’s been staring at you this entire time.”

It was the same guy from earlier. You look over, this time letting your eyes graze over his features. He was lean, certainly built, but lean. His hair was clean, he had a sort of ‘rich douche’ countenance to him. And he was staring at you, intently. Not making it a secret, either. Your mind reeled back to what you had thought about Geto last time you were here..

“I want a man to know he has other options, but still just want me. Only be interested in me.”

As your mind flashes back to that, you realize that this guy was giving you exactly what you wanted. Hell, it didn’t look like he was talking to other girls here, and he’s practically had his gaze on you from the moment you got here.

“He’s hot, you should frisk him!” Utahime exclaims enthusiastically.

“Uta! I just got divorced-“

She interrupts you “So what?! You’re divorced from that douche who didn’t give a single fuck about you?!”

Well, shit. She had a point.

With that encouragement, you get up and walk over to the mystery man who was certainly not tearing his gaze away from you as you approached him, stopping just a foot in front of him.

“You got a starin problem?” You ask, loudly over the blaring music of the club.

“Didn’t know checking out a hot woman was a problem.” He replies, cocky as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Lord, that was hot.. and he was a lot taller up close..

“You been starin’ all night.” I call him out, seeing how he’d react.

He chuckles, knowing you’re right. “Damn right I have. I know what I like.” After saying that, his eyes shamelessly trail down your body, particularly taking longer gazes at your breasts which didn’t leave much to the imagination in that dress.

“Yeah? And what is it that you like.” You decide to play coy, tease him a bit. Make him work for it.

He moves his head, trying to get a good look at you from all angles. Looking a bit behind you at your rear, at your sides, taking in your general body shape. Then his eyes raise, his gaze lingering on your face, taking in your slightly messy state. He licks his lips before replying. “Well, you’re ungodly sexy, that goes without saying. You got a body men fantasize about. And you seem loose, and fun. You got the whole indie sleaze, messy sort of thing. You were just dancing, but it looks like you just got fucked senseless.”

He pauses a moment before continuing. “And, you got a nice face to go along with it.”

You feel a pool of heat growing in the pit of your stomach. All of his words accumulated together had you feeling just slightly cocky. You could tell he wanted you. He wanted you bad.

“How many girls you talked to tonight?” You ask, suddenly after moments of silence.

He was taken aback by your question, but meeting your gaze with a smirk “Just been waiting for you to come to me, baby.”

That was it. It was like a switch flipping in the back of your mind. Okay, it was game time. Even if it was bad, even if you never speak to him again, he’d make a damn good rebound fuck.

Another hour or so goes by, chatting with this man. You found out his name is Shiu Kong, he’s a Korean citizen, and he won’t exactly describe what his job entails. You just assume he works for the government or something. The big find, was that he was older. Much older. About 20 years older. When he revealed to you he was 42, your jaw hung, and not just from the dust.

He looked damn good for his age. Not that 40s are old, but just he didn’t look it at all. You would’ve guessed late 20s-early 30s. But 40s?

You’d always fantasized about having an older man. Someone to take care of you, pay for your nails, spoil you rotten, and come fuck you braindead after he gets off work. Someone affectionate, who doesn’t play games, because why would he? He’s been around the block enough. He’s probably tired of games.

And in turn, when you tell him you’re only 22, he almost contemplates stopping the conversation right there. He didn’t want to seem like some creep who’s preying on this woman half his age. However, when you brush off his age at your initial reaction, and explain to him you were just surprised, he shoos those thoughts away. He begins to fantasize about having a woman who is wild, spontaneous, damn near uncontrollable. Someone he’ll have to put in their place every now and then. This wasn’t a fantasy he had often, but dear lord you were bringing that out of him tenfold.

You decided you’d take him home. Whats the worst that could happen?

You both take separate cars back to your apartment, because the last thing you want is it to be bad or awkward afterward, and then have to drive him to his car. After getting there, you lead him up to your apartment.

Anticipation was running through you like a wildfire. The remnants of coke and alcohol still evident, but not nearly as strong as before. Just enough to give you a confidence boost and help you act a bit more bold than usual. You very quickly, eagerly reach up to unlock the front door, and usher the both of you inside. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He watches as you frantically unlock the door with amusement, smirking to himself about how excited you were. How excited you were to have him as your rebound.

As soon as the door shuts, he goes to speak

“So, what do you-“

You cut him off by jumping his bones. You’d manhandled him, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and forcing his head around to meet you in a rough, wanting kiss. Pressing your body against his. He doesn’t resist, if anything, he complies in record time. He pushes you against the wall, trapping you in with his body as his hands trail down your sides with a firm grasp. His hands rest on your waist, forcefully pulling you into his hips. The kiss was hot, and rough as he damn near shoves his tongue down your throat wanting to taste all of you. Damn, you looked so good. And you tasted just as sweet.

The kiss grew sloppier, the more you incorporated your tongues. Saliva had painted the areas around both of your mouths, the skin glistening in the dim light of your apartment. You hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. His hands continued to roam your body, this time latching onto whatever he can. Whether it be your ass, which he couldn’t stop staring at while you walked in front of him to your apartment. Your chest, that he could not for the life of him break his gaze away from when you spoke to him. Your shoulders, that looked so slender and biteable. Or your face, which was just so exquisite to him.

You kicked off your heels, dropping down to a smaller height. With them on, you were almost his height. With them off, you were just to his shoulder. He stopped for a moment to look at you, his hands raking through your hair gentle as he did so. Taking in just exactly how small you were compared to him. He looked like a man starved, and this just turned you on even more.

“My room is this way.” You tell him, softly, as you begin walking that way. Motioning for him to follow you.

With diligence, he follows you to your bedroom. He looks around for a moment as you go ahead and sit on the bed. It was similar to your living room, in terms of it being kept very neat and tidy and just slightly… empty? You’d told him you were divorced, but from the apartment, it looked almost half done. Like you haven’t filled the space quite yet.

He looks at you on the bed. He bites his lip and lets his gaze rake up and down your body, taking in how good you look sitting there all ready for him. He walks toward you, loosening his tie as he kneels down in front of you. You wonder for a moment what he was planning on doing, but the way he’d looked up at you as he kneeled down told you all you needed to know. He loosened his tie, and unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt before he traces his hands up your legs, slowly moving to part your inner thighs. You comply, spreading them for him. His fingers trail to your heat, gently spreading around your folds, getting a good look at your lack of panties as well as the slick that was forming there. All for him. “This all for me, baby?” He asks, with a cocky grin. You reply with a nod, biting your lip as you throw your head back. The sensation was too good, and one you went too long without.

His thumb then starts circling your sensitive clit, earning a low groan from you, and your hips squirming ever so slightly, causing him to take his hands and hold your hips in place so that he could get to work. “Let me take care of you, doll.” He says in a gruff, throaty voice before his mouth delves between your legs, giving your cunt a good swipe from bottom to top, before latching his lips onto your anticipating clit. Your jaw hangs slack. The warmth and the sensation from his tongue lapping and his lips sucking on your sensitive clit was almost too much. But, you wanted it. You wanted that release so badly. You wrap a leg over his shoulder and down his back, locking him into his position between your legs where he knelt on the floor before you. Your hand running through his hair, and using your other to support you on the bed. Your eyes went between looking down at him, rolling your eyes back and biting your lip as you watch him go to work on your pussy, and to the ceiling, just when the feeling was getting just too good when you needed to let out a loud, guttural moan that was too intense to contain.

“F-fuuuck.. Shiu- god, your mouth.. f-feels too good..”

He looks up for a moment, detaching his mouth, which let you get a good look at the slick that now painted his entire chin. “Yeah, doll? You like how I eat your pussy?” He says before immediately going back to work, eyes shut and practically pussydrunk as he buries himself into your cunt, going between tongue fucking you and making out with your clit, every so often shaking his face around down there to really savour the taste.

“Y-yeah… y- eat my pussy- s-so good- fuck.. god I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, a bit louder than the rest you’d been letting spill out as your grip on his hair tightens, the leg that ran over his shoulder and down his back stiffening as your head rolls back. You pant, and whine as you reach your mind-blowing orgasm. Coming completely undone in front of him. He can’t help but flick his eyes up, watching what he’s doing to you. His tongue movements go a bit slower, helping you ride out your orgasm before he detaches his lips, tilting his head up to look up at you as he licks his lips clean. A cocky grin forming on his lips, knowing just how damn good he made you feel.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks, his hands grazing up and down your thighs. When you nod, that gives him everything he needed to stand up in front of you, and start undressing himself. “Yeah, well. I’m gonna make you feel even better here in a moment. You gonna be a good girl and take it?”

You look up at him, all doe eyed and curious as he removes his tie, then his dress shirt, and his pants as he throws it all on the floor. “Y-yes-“ you reply to his initial question.

“Yes, what?” He asks. You couldn’t tell what exactly he wanted. Sir? Daddy? Master? “What do you want me to call you?”

He walks over to you, removing his boxers finally. Letting his length spring up and slap his gut. It was big, but not big enough to where you felt like you were going to be in agony tomorrow unable to walk. So, that was promising. He kicks them off, and forcefully grabs you by the jaw to look up at him.

“Sit up straight, baby.” He demands. You didn’t expect that to be what he says, but you comply, fixing your posture as you look up at him.

“Tonight, I want you to call me daddy. Tonight, you’re gonna let daddy use you however he wants. You’re going to obey daddy. You’re going to be daddy’s girl, tonight. That sound good to you?” He asks in a daunting tone, almost like he’s telling the rules to a child. You nod, complying with his demands.

“Get daddy’s cock wet.” He demands, pushing his dick forward into your face. You take his cock in your hand, giving it a pump or two before putting it in your mouth. Letting him bottom out to the back of your throat, you get his cock nice and ready for you. He softly puts his hand in your hair, smirking to himself as he watched you obey him so diligently.

“Yeah, doll.. you know how to do it- yeah.. just like that.. doing so good for me. Such a good girl.” He then pulls your head back, and motions for you to get up further on the bed. You lay yourself down in the center as he positions himself over you.

“Lift your dress up.”

You obey his order, lifting your dress over your head, revealing that you not only weren’t wearing panties, but weren’t wearing a bra either. He tuts as he looks down at your body, letting his hands grab and paw at your bare chest. His thumbs toying with your hard nipples, earning a soft whine from you. “Such a dirty girl. Wearing nothing under that thing you call a dress. You were just begging to get fucked.” He coos as he pinches down on your nipple harder, a small yelp coming from your throat.

You hadn’t realized before, but he still had his tie in hand. You finally noticed once he forcefully grabbed your wrists, and tied them above your head. The tie was nice and tight. Definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. His hands go back to feeling up your chest, letting the fleshy mounds fill up his hands before..

SMACK!

You let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him slapping your tits. He does it one.. two.. three more times before mumbling to himself. “Dirty, dirty little slut..” your chest felt a bit raw, red from how hard he slapped them around. He sat there and admired his work. A red hand print forming on the side of your breast, causing his cock to twitch with pride.

He then moves down between your legs, positioning his hard, pink tip at your entrance. Swiping it up and down your cunt, slapping it on your clit. “What does baby want? Do you want daddy to fuck you? Do you want daddy to fuck you like the little whore you are? A little whore that goes out naked under her dress?”

You bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood. Your brows knit together, you give him an eager nod.

He looks dissatisfied with your answer, giving your pussy a small slap with his cock. “Words, doll.”

“Y-yes daddy.. please- please fuck me..” you beg and plead, your voice strained and sounding desperate.

Without another word, he slips inside you, completely bottoming out. He lets out a loud groan, his jaw falling open as he pushes himself inside your warm walls. You let out a long, whiny moan, having not expected to feel all of him that fast. It was slightly painful, but it felt damn good.

He starts relentlessly pounding into you, his hand finding solace and support from gripping your wrists above your head, keeping himself upright as he rutted his hips in and out of you.

It was all so much at once. He hadn’t even given you time to properly adjust to his size before he was jackhammering inside of you. Your moans come out, long, and damn they were loud. You were certainly fuelling his ego with just how much you were clearly enjoying it.

“You like it- hnnngh- you like it, doll? You like- you like how daddy fucks you? Ah- tell daddy how much you like it..”

You could hardly think straight. All that ran through your mind were the intense amounts of pleasure that flood through your body, and the sounds that came from it. Your pussy giving pornographic squelches with each thrust of his cock, the lewd slaps of your skin together, the heavy breathing from both parties along with the series of moans. You could hardly formulate a sentence.

“D-daddy- ugh.. daddy f-fffucks me s-so good- AH~!”

The whites of his eyes take over as he hears you say that. He straightens himself up, throwing your legs over his shoulders with much haste before he continues pounding into your pussy. His eyes locked and mesmerized by your facial expressions, the way your tits bounced with every thrust, just how damn good and tight you felt around him.

You’re now screaming his name after he props your legs up, allowing him deeper entry, causing him to hit that sensitive spot that your ex husband couldn’t ever seem to find before.

“S-Shiu- FUCK! HNNNGH-“

He can feel himself reaching his climax, but lord he never wanted this to be over. He wanted to keep fucking you into oblivion. He wanted to keep watching you in the whirls of ecstasy at his cock. It was all over for him when he felt your pussy tighten around him, indicating that you were reaching yours as well.

“D-daddy- I’m gonna cum- I- I’m-“

He shushes you, speaking to you calmly and soothing as opposed to how he was absolutely destroying your insides. “I’m right there too, doll.. ah-“ he winces at he approaches his climax. “I’m gonna cum inside you.. I’m gonna fill you with my seed.. get- get you pregnant.. ah!”

Your back arches, your tied hands coming down onto your stomach as your elbows buckle as you crumble under him for the second time. Drool coming down your chin as you pant and mewl at your orgasm crashing down even harder than the last.

And with that, he was shooting hot silky ropes of cum into your cunt. Fucking it deep inside you as he watches the white substance bunch up around the base of his cock, and leaking down to his balls.

His pace slows down, riding out both of your orgasms. After pulling himself out, he reaches up to untie your wrists, letting you adjust to having it off.

You lie there with your eyes shut, completely breathless after what just happened. It wasn’t until you hear the jingling of his belt before your eyes opened up to see him getting dressed.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You ask, trying to not sound desperate.

“I’m not too interested in just being a rebound, doll. But, if you decide I’m just too good to have as just a rebound..” he digs around in his pocket for a moment, before handing you a business card with his phone number on it. ‘Shiu Kong - Formal Handler’

You wondered what formal handler meant. But, before you could ask, he was bidding you goodbye and making his grand exit. You lay there, dumbfounded at how quickly that turned around. Did you just get ‘you-ed’ by this guy..?

It took days of consideration and replaying the events of that night in your mind over and over, before you called him.

Thanks for reading!!! This is my first fic I’m posting on here so pleaaase be nice, but also if you have any constructive criticism I’m SO open to it. Thanks!