#I am admittedly crying again

[i-love-tubbs-the-cat]

over six years later and nobody still hits me like the day it came out...

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Me: Finally a long weekend in New York!

Also me: Binge reads three romance books back to back almost forgetting that my real-life boyfriend exists and I need to talk to him 😭

[teamfortresstwo]

HHHHHHHHHHHH,,,,,

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[just-the-hands]

How do I explain that I'm scared but not for the obvious reasons but an other Secret reason

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[pomefioredove]

may I request headcanons of the overblot boys + Adeuce reaction to a younger yuu that tells them that they’re like a big brother to them? Platonic obviously—

thank you!

awww ofc!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ brotherly (again!)

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, short

Having been torn from your home, separated from your family and friends, and spit back out in a new place with new people, isn't really as fun as it sounds.

After months at NRC, though, you've managed to make yourself a life here. A new home, new friends, even new family.

Now, sitting close to the person you've become fondest of, you let slip that you seem him as a brother.

His reaction?

I am of the (kind of depressing) opinion that Riddle's life would be much better if he had a sibling. he hasn't really thought about it, per se, but he's always had this feeling...

so, when you tell him as much, he just... 🥺🥺 you know?

he's in protective brother mode from this moment on (for better or worse, lol)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the bond you have with Ace and Deuce has gone unspoken, but all of you know what it is. you saying it, though, makes it all the more real

as warm and tender of a moment as it is, Ace still feels the need to make a joke about how sappy you're being (affectionately, of course), and Deuce can only hum with excitement at the acceptance and warmth between the three of you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

admittedly, Leona is a little... put off. at least, he is at first. he doesn't exactly have a great relationship with his own brother, and with no other examples to go off of, it feels kind of like an insult

he... gets what you mean, though

and, reluctant as he is to be so vulnerable, he'll say you're just as much of an annoying little sibling to him

lovingly, of course

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul had friends before you... kind of... but none as near and dear to him. he could never quite explain what this feeling was until you said it

ah... that's it. family. he almost feels embarrassed, being so vulnerable all of a sudden, and he can barely get out that he feels the same way

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil has younger siblings already, and he could tell the two of you were forming a similar bond before you said as much. he'd caught himself treating you just how he treats his sister on multiple different occasions (for better or worse, lol), and...

he's glad that you're here with him. that's all he'll say... for now

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

many people would think you'd have to hit your head to say something like that to the Vil Schoenheit

he's untouchable! he's godlike! he's... lol. just kidding. he's quite fond of you, too, and hearing those words come from you is better than any amount of likes, any award or role. you're his favorite person, after all

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

dude, are you trying to make Idia cry??? because he will! and then he'll bubble-wrap you and Ortho so you can never go anywhere or get hurt ever

he... has some things to work through. obviously. but, really, he and Ortho have basically adopted you already, so hearing you say it... in a good way... call him cringe, but he could get a little emotional over that

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you think of Malleus as your brother? then you must also think of Silver the same way. and Sebek... would you be interested in adoption, because Lilia-

yeah. you get it. welcome to the family, lol. Malleus has already decided you're his best friend forever and ever, and hearing you call him family... hohhh that overblot is going to hit hard when you guys get there

[just-some-random-blogger]

Seeing Green

Gwayne had enough of you and declared he would not be accompanying you on your travels to the town ever again. How glad you were to know Harwin would in his stead.

bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader x Harwin Strong | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity ig, im just a girl!reader, angst?, jealousy, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a p2 to seeing red but you dont have to read it to understand whats happening. I have made a next part!

Tagging: @lancedoncrimsonwings @targs-on-zorses @barbieaemond @arabellasleopardcoat

"GWAYNE!" I stick my head out of the carriage window. I scoff as I watch the armored man walk off, "you can not be serious!"

"Serious?!" he snaps, turning back to me with a raised brow and a tense jaw. He rubs his lips as he storms back towards me. His glare is so grave that I actually lean back into my seat and clench my skirt.

Gwayne stomps his foot on one of the steps up the carriage. A line forms between his brows, "you have WORN me!"

I grow tense as flails his hand around.

"I have done nothing but exact your cumbersome and frivolous commands with patience!" He snaps, "and now that I've met my limit yet you have the gall to ask me if I am being serious!?!"

Gwayne's eyes are wide and clearer than the skies. His pointed stare is piercing and I cannot deflect it as he speaks to me of my unreasonableness. Admittedly, my requests were some meant to annoy him, but I did not expect him to act so acridly. I mean, surely he was accustomed to it by now. Was I truly becoming too much to bear for him?

His face is flushed with rage. I stare at him, unable to speak, for in truth I did not know how to meet his apparently genuine frustration.

"Oh," he scoffs, chuckles bubbling out his throat, "she does not speak, for there is nothing else true to say." He grips the carriage door, "what? Have you realized you do work me worse than your own employed servants? That you ask of me more than what I am required of?"

"But it is my right!" I pipe up, though my voice is still small, "you must accompany me wherever I so wander."

Gwayne's jaw feathers, "I am tasked to protect you from peril and to prevent you from doing the unwise," he steps back, "not to carry your clothes and hang them in your wardrobes!"

I stare at him, dread building in my stomach.

"What?!" he quips, "do you truly not see the brunt of my frustrations?"

"... I do not think it unreasonable to-" I gaps when he closes the door with unnecessary force before storming away.

In truth, the gesture was harsher than it needed to be and bothers me more than it should. There is a tightness to my chest as I slowly open the door and watch the man so readily forsake me. Against myself, my eyes begin to prick with tears.

"Gw-" I shut my mouth at the sound of my voice breaking. I chew my lower lip and take deep breaths to calm myself.

I did not mean to make him cross— not like that. I feel my throat tighten as I replay what just happened. Guilt eats at me more each second and soon salt cascades down my cheeks. I sit there until the coachman knocks and asks if we should away. I dismiss him and tell him I will stay here for a little while.

I don't. It feels like an hour passed of me trying not to cry, crying, and calming myself. I start when someone knocks on my carriage door.

"My Lady Lannister?" a deep voice speaks, making me wipe my face in a panic.

I try to stifle my sniffle and use my skirt to dry my tears.

"Tis Ser Harwin Strong. You cannot leave your carriage here."

I clear my throat, but my voice still betrays me with a crack, "ap-ologies. I will have it m-" but my coachman is not here. I sigh and stare at my lap. My lips wobble as helplessness creeps up on me.

A prolonged moment of silence ensues before the man outside speaks again, "my lady... are you well?"

I huff and concede to simply opening the door.

I wipe my philtrum on my sleeve and feel twice as dreadful as I see the dark haired and bearded man outside my carriage. He is a beauty. His blue eyes narrow in concern, "my lady."

I shake my head and gather my skirts.

He instinctively reaches out a hand to me and assists me as I exit my ride. Once I am stood before him, I realize just how tall and broad he is. His brows tighten as he releases my hand. I offer him a smile, "I beg your pardon for the inconvenience. I do not have anyone to move the carriage."

Ser Harwin shakes his head, "one of the stable boys can move it." He turns over his shoulder and hollers for someone to do just that. A boy approaches us, nodding politely before climbing up the driver's seat to do what was instructed of him.

My stomach rolls when the towering man looks back at me. His demeanor is starkly juxtaposed to his stature. He ghosts a hand on my shoulder and raises an arm. He leads me off to the side and speaks softly, "is there anything I can assist you with, my lady?"

I shake my head, "I am well."

He nods and clutches his hands once we find ourselves standing just by the entrance of the Keep, "forgive me, but as a guard of the City Watch, it is my duty to uphold justice. I cannot stand idle in the face of trickery."

My brows quirk at his words. I tilt my head, "do you call me a liar, ser?"

"Yes," he answers simply.

My lips part as his brazen admission.

"True, it is not uncommon for one to weep with joy, but I recognize the distress laid upon your brow," he shakes his head, "would it not be simpler for you to say you require nothing of me than to pretend you are well?"

His words make me choke. I feel my eyes begin to fog with tears.

Ser Harwin's face falls. He raises his hands, "forgive me. I only meant-"

"No," I mumble, "you are right. I injure myself! I speak before I think and create inconveniences for entertainment." I scratch my tears away before they can fall. I look up to the man, feeling dread bite at me. I resist my instinct to slip further into my emotions and try to speak as evenly as possible, "the truth is... I had a... disagreement with my ward... we always get into disagreements, but... this time it was visceral."

The man shifts on his leg, "might I ask what the disagreement was over?"

"He says I work him like a dog, that I ask much more than what he ought to do," I sniffle, "and... perhaps it is true," I evade his gaze by turning to the sky. My lips quiver, "but I did not realize my presence was so heavily insufferable." I look back at him, "I am easy on the eyes, am I not?"

The man chuckles softly, "your features are quite comely indeed, Lady Lannister."

I nod once, "that is the only correct response, ser."

A rich chuckle fills the space between us. He hums and raises a hand, "have you expressed your orders were mere reasons to keep his company?"

My expression drops at his words. I laugh but it goes dry when I realize he spoke no jest. "Ser, my ward is Gwayne Hightower. He loathes me just as I loathe him."

"And do you normally weep for your enemies?" he tilts his head.

"I weep because he regards me so cruelly!" I snap in defense, "it is most twisted for one as he to raise his voice and show aggression to one such as I!"

Ser Harwin sighs.

I wipe my philtrum, feeling my body tremble with a mix of emotions.

"What was this errand you needed to be chaperoned to?"

I gulp as I bring my hands to my hips. I debate the sincerity of his words and decide he does not have the face of a man who would use my words against me. I huff, "the tailor's. I was to have a new dress made for me for-"

His brows quirk at my abrupt halt.

I feel blood rush up my neck, but I decide to ignore it and speak with as much scorn as I could muster, "Gwayne's nameday celebration."

I observe him carefully, ready to pounce and pound him if he so wishes to berate me for the honest admission. In truth, I am taken aback by the curtness of his reply. He nods and offers me an arm, "if it pleases you, I can accompany you to the tailor myself. I have finished my patrol and have nothing better to do."

My eyes dart from the curls framing his face to his meaty arm. My lips part as I find the words to say, "would you... rather not rest for the day?"

"My honor would not allow me after beholding a lady in her distress."

I stare at his arm for a few seconds and cautiously take it.

A good while passed until Gwayne returned to the stables to find his irritating lady. When he sees the Lannister carriage parked, he sighs and marches over, preparing himself to meet the rage of the woman that was still sitting inside in protest.

"Will you sleep-" he starts but stops when he opens the door to nothing. He raises a brow and closes the door. His attention falls on the passing servant, "you. Where is the lady of this carriage?"

The man looks at him then the carriage.

"Lady Lannister," Gwayne clarrifies.

He perks in recognition, "the lady Lannister and ser Strong headed to the tailor on horseback."

"On horseback," the knight scoffs in disbelief, "Lady Lannister?" his voice fades into a laugh. And he so enjoys himself laughing for a moment before sighing, "why, I applaud the good ser for his powers of persuasion."

Upon realizing that he no longer needed to be here, Gwayne grins and nods at him, "thank you my good man. Your news has made my day."

With that he walks off and heads to his quarters.

The next day, Gwayne has a spring to his step as he heads down the hall.

I am in the middle of having my hair fixed when I hear a knock on my door. I look at the reflection from the mirror before me, "come in."

I behold Gwayne and his grin as he struts towards my bed. He leaps into it, landing on his chest. He instructs one of my servants to get him a cup of wine. Each of these things would normally be cause to chew him up; all of these combined would make me unleash upon him the wrath due to his impertinence, and yet, I find myself uncaring of his blatant misbehavior. I merely instruct my servant to fetch the sapphire necklace that match my velvet dress and sit tight by my vanity.

Gwayne takes the wine that is served to him and sips before speaking out, "I hear Lord Harwin Strong was he who accompanied you to town yesterday."

I ignore him in lieu of twirling the baby hairs by my ears.

"And on horseback, no less," he takes another sip, "how ever did he get you to ride a horse by yourself?"

"I didn't," I turn to my servant who returns with my jewels, "we rode on the same horse."

Gwayne stills. He scrunches his face at the cup in his hand then looks at me, "what?"

I smile at myself on the mirror as the necklaces is clasped around my neck. I adjust the blue stone that sparkled between my collarbones and admire the look of it.

He sits up from the bed, careful not to spill his drink, "you rode the same horse?"

"Of course we rode the same horse," I roll my eyes, "he is not a fool who expects me to enjoy such sport."

The red haired man raises his brows. He waits for me to expound further, but finds I am distracted by my reflection. He scoffs, sipping again more before saying, "I pity the steed."

I grin at myself, pleased with my image.

"I pity the steed," he repeats, "that had to carry a knight, a brat, and her hundred dresses."

My eyes dart to him. He is already looking at me from the mirror. "He did not ride with me on the way back. He is not cruel like you."

"So he walked?" his forehead curls, "and on the way back, no less." He scoffs once more before drinking again, "well, the tailor is not that far."

I inspect my attire one last time before standing and heading to the bed. Gwayne lifts his eyes; the corner of his lips soon follow. He shifts on his spot and drinks deeply.

"You are dismissed, Hightower."

He licks his lips as his brows furrow, "what?"

I tilt my head and clasp my hands together, "you do so love making sport of me repeating myself."

Gwayne pulls his head back before standing. He lifts his nearly empty cup, "are you saying you— you have no plans for the day?" He purses his lips, "no errands you wish to force upon my being."

I clench my teeth but manage to pull a smile. Gwayne finds such endearment in the forced grins, not that he would ever admit so. I nod in agreement.

"So," he holds his cup with both hands, "I am free to do what I will for the day."

"Even more so to do it as far away from me as possible," I raise my hands before walking towards him to push him out of my room.

The man chuckles as he finishes what is left of his wine. He manages to hand the empty cup to one of the servants just before we both step out of the room. He licks his lips and tilts his head at me.

The smile that spreads on his face makes my stomach roll and I combat it with a glare, "do not wait on me. I will be promenading with a friend."

"Promenade?" he chuckles. The lines on his cheek remain as he raises his brow. He looks me once over, eyes lingering on the sapphire on my décolletage, "and pray tell, who in the Keep has merited the friendship of someone so high-nosed as you?"

"Ser Harwin Strong."

His grin falters.

I do not care to wonder why as I walk off and meet the man I named in the gardens as we had arranged.

Gwayne watches. He is left alone in the corridor. He chuckles to himself and heads off to the library to unwind. The closer he inched to his destination however, the more sour the taste in his mouth became. Before he even comes near the library, he finds himself marching off to look for gods knows what he'll find.

And it seems the gods do want him to find the source of his sourness. As he marched down one stairwell, he heard an unmistakable sound of laughter that made his ears perk. He heads to the hall and looks out the window.

There, he sees a man stood in front of a woman sat upon a bench, both of them giggling and both of them in blue. His eye twitches as the dark haired fool carelessly picks a flower from a bush and offers it to her.

Gwayne finds no relief when she does not take it, for instead it seems she instructed him to place the flower on the side of her hair.

"Ha," he scoffs, pulling away from the window, "promenade, says she? Ha!" Gwayne shakes his head as his feet take him back towards the library, "neither of them are walking. HA!"

Gwayne cannot help the way his hands clench and unclench as he storms off. He scoffs once again, "fucking Strong," the ire in his chest is molten, prickly, and painful as he adds, "fucking Lannister."

[sweet-jolly-fucken-ranchers]

my mental health is bad once more and I know this because I give a shit about aot again

[disneyprincemuke]

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

[erosiism]

GAP MOE | YANDERE DUKE X M!READER

prompt: in which the reader is isekai’d to a novel where he’s supposed to be cannon fodder, but his supposed murderous husband is sweet, doting, and loving. the worst case of gap moe.

character(s): duke (altair), you

warnings(s): none [except the chance that i might have used the term wrongly lol still an enjoyable read, i promise]

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read, will probably have a part two

other(s): alternative title: help, i got transmigrated as cannon fodder and now i am the murderous duke’s husband | meaning of gap moe: affection born of inconsistency between different aspects of the character

So, you’ve been isekai’d to a novel. A novel where the Grand Duke is supposed to kill you. He hits every cliche: Altair Ornaria is red eyed, black haired, and he has the smoldering, sharp kind of beauty that you only see in Dukes. The Northern Duke, to be exact.

The situation isn’t looking good. As far as you know, you’ve been isekai’d into a novel called The Villianess’s Revenge, where you are a plot point. Canon fodder. Where you’re the background character who happens to die in an event that the main character will shine. And specifically: you’ll die by your husband’s hands.

You like to think that you could’ve avoided your fate, but it’s bad, because you woke up to wedding preparations—the first time you open your eyes in a foreign world, there’s a burst of chatter and activity in a luxurious room, and you see white everywhere. Memories of your past life whizz past you in a frantic blur and your head is still muddled: oh, right. You got hit by a truck. Memories of the novel follows, and you can only blink as you realize the stupid coincidence that you share the same name as the character you had possessed.

Your fate remains: you’re  getting married.

To the Grand Duke of…the Northern Kingdom.

Admittedly, you don’t know how to feel. There’s the obvious fear that you’ll be walking right to death’s door, but again, you don’t exactly die during the wedding. You only die months after that. So you don’t really need to worry about anything yet right? The Duke will be cold towards you, but it doesn’t matter: he’s a stranger to you, too, and you plan on kissing him for as little as you can.

 And, you think, it certainly didn’t help it that the Grand Duke is devastatingly handsome. You can see his looks working its spell on you—you can see yourself simpering, your eyes going wide eyed. You’re trying to steel yourself. You’re trying to make yourself immune to Altair’s beauty. 

Fast forward: you’re walking down the aisle, aghast at the sight of your weeping mother and your crying father who just look so proud of you. They seem like decent parents, which is…strange. So—

—Oh. The [Name] in the original story did have three lines of description. One, that he was a spoiled brat, pampered by his parents, and two, he has a fucking crush on the Grand Duke. Hence a strategic alliance placed confidently for [Name] to get his wish.

…Asshole, you think. The veil is covering your face and you’re dressed in a white suit adorned with flowers. You can feel your throat dry up, all the moistness leaving your lips and instead churning down your throat. You wrinkle your nose, before you try to swallow down profanities. The music behind you almost seems taunting.

You stop in front of the groom.

Standing there in all his resplendent glory is none other than your soon to be husband, whose face is unreadable. You can’t see him, only smudges and smears. After all, the veil is covering his face—but gloom settles in you.

He’s going to be disappointed, you think glumly. His face seems vaguely familiar, probably because you do know how he looks, tangentially, but your thoughts are a hot mess right now. You can’t find the power within you to place a finger on it: so instead of bothering over it, you stand in front of the Duke in trepidation.

The Duke slowly lifts up the veil — gently and slowly, and you can swear emotion flits across his face as he gazes at you. You blink owlishly at him, at a loss of words. This is their first time meeting, and you two are about to lock lips. Or perhaps lock lips is an exaggeration—it will be nothing but a useless peck. But thankfully, though indiscernible, his face not one of disappointment.

Almost..fond? You think, then there is belated horror: wait, what? 

You ignore that. And then when your thoughts subside, you realize how ridiculously hot he is. 

“[Name],” he whispers, Altair, the cold, heartless, murderer of a Duke whispers, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s not even the expression on his face that knocks the wind out of your chest: it’s the way he calls out your name. Carefully, like he’s savoring the taste of the name on his tongue, like deja vu. But then again, perhaps it helps that you have read this scene. And the scene, though very—different—is unfolding in front of your very eyes.

This is your murderer, you think, don’t look at his face, [Name]!

You start to lower your head meekly, but Altair tips your head back up.

“How,” there is a teasing tone to his voice—teasing, like this is so funny to him—“how, do you expect me to kiss you?”

Your jaw drops. Then it closes. You are well aware of the blush around your cheeks that has betrayed you. 

.

.

What?

.

.

Seriously, is he programmed wrong? Why is Altair OOC? You coined enough fanfiction terms to label everything wrong with this. There’s a proper term for this, but you can’t seem to remember it. You do notice the way that Altair glowers at everyone else, before his expression smoothens when he faces you.

You close your eyes to give out a sigh. You forget this is a marriage. So you forget what happens when you get married.

A kiss.

You startle when you feel lips—firm but soft at the same time, pressing against your own. It’s tender, sweet, loving, and you practically melt against it. When you break away, the taste of Altair’s—your husband’s lips still linger on your own.

This defies all the rumors about the Duke, who supposedly was a cold hearted bastard who killed his advisors for speaking out of turn. No, this man is tender and gentle, and his delicate touch is nothing short of sweet. 

Before you can retort, or before your lagging brain can even comprehend this—the guests burst into cheers. You just feel numb as Altair guides you slowly down the aisle, ready to board the carriage into the manor. Mansion. Whatever. Your new home.

Your…

Altair presses a kiss to your forehead before he whispers in your ear. “I cannot wait for our wedding night, Y/n.”

You freeze.

The term starts to arise in your head.

Gap Moe, you think, this is fucking gap moe.

likes/reblogs would be so appreciated! and so will comments :) don’t mind me haha im tryna figure tumblr’s algorithm out which might explain my varied content || this oneshot will probably have a part two or three because there’s actually a reason behind everything. I’ll see how this does first

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Wool Over My Eyes

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Mike always says you have such trouble getting up in the morning. You don't intend to take so long to wake, but Mike is quite confident the solution lays just at his fingertips- and lips.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, switch! Mike, switch! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex, barely proofread and over the course of three days after my shifts right before I went to bed (cuz we die like men)

Notes: I love you gullible fucks.

"C'mere here, sweet thing."

I groan as Mike rolls me onto my side, his lips finding my cheek that has been textured from the blanket that imprinted itself upon my skin as I slept restlessly through the night. It had only been a couple hours ago that I'd finally found sleep, and it doesn't even feel like five minutes since I'd actually sunk into it.

"Five more minutes," I groan, my words slurred with sleep as I press my back further against Mike's intoxicatingly warm and inviting front, hardly even noticing anything else about my surroundings as I begin to drift back into sleep once more.

"You said five minutes an hour ago," Mike gently chides into my ear, his voice almost a full octave lower and rough with his own sleep, probably. My hand automatically raises to swipe lazily at his lips which graze so lightly against the shell of my ear, his breath tickling my skin enough to irritate my tired mind. "It's time to wake up."

"Mm," I moan in a somewhat childlike manner. He chuckles at this, his lips once more finding my cheek as his hands begin to peel the blanket away from me, slowly exposing my chest mostly.

"Don't," I groan in a soft, high voice, the cold air of the room beginning to stiffen certian parts of my body. Such as my back, shoulders.

"Be nice," Mike chuckles as his lips trail lazily closer to my own, his hand satisfied with how exposed my body is now and beginning to reverse its trail, now grazing his fingertips gently along the soft cotton of my shirt that still keeps my chest covered.

"Make me," I try to snap, too drugged with sleep to carry any venom in my voice.

Mike's lips find mine in an instant, his tongue diving into my mouth as he suddenly moves his hand to my hair, tugging at it almost harshly as a small whine escapes me from the sudden aggression. He moans into the kiss, his other hand wrapping around my throat ever so gently as our lips slide together, slick with his spit, making me pant against his kiss.

"Don't make me be the bad guy," Mike says against my lips when he pulls away for a moment. His head ducks down to tease at my neck, biting into it softly before he returns to my mouth, slipping his tongue inside of it once more and moaning loudly as he does.

Our kisses are not graceful, I'll admit. They're messy, hard, wet with thick desire as his hand trails to and from my neck, spreading across my chest until his calloused hand eventually dives under my shirt, searching for a stiff nipple to play with as he pulls away from me once more, his eyes glazed with want and desperation as he watches me closely, a lazy smile upon his lips.

"Make those pretty sounds for me," Mike pleads breathily as he pinches particularly hard on my nipple. A short gasp escapes me, my cheeks turning red as my eyes flutter shut once more.

"Hey," Mike says in a firmer voice, lips quickly sealing onto mine once more as his tongue slips against mine needingly before he quickly pulls away. "Stay awake."

"I am awake," I pout softly. He tugs on my nipple again, forcing a small cry from me as he bites my bottom lip.

"Don't lie," Mike warns in a low, rough, almost growling voice. "You know I hate it when you lie."

It's not a lie!... Though admittedly I could see how it would be easy to slip into such bliss as Mike uses me. It's a somewhat arousing thought, the idea of him fucking me to sleep.

"I'm recording, you know," Mike teases as his other hand slips from my hair to the other side of my chest, both of my nipples now being abused by the older man as I pant openly, my hips finding his thick thigh between my legs. "Figured I could use the proof that you just don't like waking up in the morning to see if you'll finally listen to me."

"I listen to you," I protest. His nails scratch my nipples, making me loudly cry out at the touch.

"I said. Don't. Lie," Mike reminds me. "God, its like you want to be punished."

The idea makes my legs pull together in want, my hips dragging deliciously against Mike's thigh as I moan openly, wanting for nothing more than what he'd just suggested.

"You like that, pretty toy?" Mike asks softly against my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe while one of his hands roughly grabs my chest, the other hand swirling his thumb in quick circles around my aching nipple. Fuck, Jesus. I could cum like this and I wouldn't protest.

"Maybe I just won't touch you," Mike says low in my ear, his voice predatory as I quicken my hips against his thigh which presses harder against me. "You seem to be eager to cum just like this. So easy, so fun to play with."

Mike shoves his tongue into my mouth once more, his hands shifting. One to my throat, one to my hip. He guides my body to quicken its pace against him, his hand occasionally smacking hard against my ass and even playing with the muscle as his eyes drift open to watch me.

"You like being my favorite toy, don't you?" Mike asks in a tired, low and aroused voice as he smirks. I nod slowly, stupid and sleepy against him. Mike smacks my ass again, grabbing and jiggling it roughly after. "Open your eyes when I'm talking to you," he commands. Stupidly I obey, eager to please him as I begin to feel my stomach constrict in pleasure at his touch.

"There you go. Good plaything. You're just so eager to please, aren't you?" Mike asks in a patronizing tone, leaning forward to graze his lips against mine. I move to press harder against them, but he pulls away, still leaving them close enough to tease me, waiting for me to try to swoop in again, then pulling away far enough I whine as I realize his evil game.

"You like older men playing with you, admit it," Mike says in a cocky tone, his hand dipping under my sweatpants to play with my bare ass. I moan in response to his words and his touch, but it doesn't seem to be enough.

"Say it," Mike orders softly, smiling at the sight of me. I blush, shaking my head slightly as I glance away. Mike grabs my ass roughly again, pressing his thigh harder against me as the look in his eye shifts to something slightly darker. "Say it."

I shake my head again, an unwilling smile growing more as Mike grabs harder, leaning in close enough to whisper threateningly, but ready to pull away if I dared to take advantage of the opportunity and kiss him.

"I like older men playing with me," I say in a soft, quick whisper before he can make another threat. His eyes turn gentle once again, and he drags me into another kiss, sweet and loving while he begins to shift his body to hover above mine, moving his thigh much to my displeasure.

"Look at that," Mike praises softly. "You can be so good when you want to be, can't you?"

Mike leans down to press his lips against my neck, biting roughly into it and making me cry out. He stays there for almost a minute, ensuring that there will be a dark bite mark obvious on my skin for the next week before he moves to the other side of my neck, repeating this process. I squirm underneath of him, moaning and crying out pathetically. His hard cock grazes against my leg, and once he finds it he begins to grind against it, releasing his own soft noises as he begins to lap at my blooming marks with his warm, wide tongue.

"Fuck me!" I whine against Mike's ear, nipping at his lobe and panting openly as my hand descends downwards, my fingers just brushing past the waistband of my pants when his own hand carefully but tightly grabs my wrist, moving to pin it just above my head as he uses my body to masturbate.

Mike doesn't respond to my plea. He simply moans as his hips increase in tempo, making it obvious how close he is already. Part of me wonders if this was meant to be a reenactment of his dream last night, or if maybe he'd been fucking himself beside me as I slept for who knows how long before he finally woke me in a moment of desperation. Both ideas make me faint with want.

I use my free hand to snatch a clump of dark curls on the back of his head, pulling them roughly to force him away from my neck. The pain makes him cry out in a deliciously broken voice, his hips stuttering before resuming in a slightly increased pace as his eyes shift to meet mine, a bright red coat of blush decorating his peaceful face, creating the perfect image of such a beautiful, desperate man.

"I asked you to fuck me," I seethe, tugging harshly on his hair again, making him cry out once more. His cock twitches against my leg, then suddenly he begins trying to crawl down my body, his hands grabbing at whatever flesh he can find as he bites harshly at my being, his slick tongue quick to soothe the marks as his amber eyes watch me pleadingly, begging for praise that I don't offer to him.

Mike's hands paw at my pants, dragging them down my hips without even undoing the tight drawstring that keeps the waistline fitted to me properly. The moment I feel the cold air begin to sink into my newly exposed skin, Mike's lips are quick to warm me once again, his tongue diving between my legs as he laps greedily, moaning as he teases my entrance with it. The wet muscle probs at me, tempting me to grab his hair and shove him against me while I ride his face, but I decide instead to pet his hair in non-verbal praise, driving him wild as his blush deepens. His large hands cup my ass, raising my hips off the bed slightly and spreading my legs wider, allowing him easier access to me.

"Stop being a tease," I moan lightly, digging my hand deeper into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice cracks as he moans, slipping his tongue into me obediently as he plays with my ass. His own hips fuck the bed, slight trembling obvious as his lashes flutter shut, spit beginning to dribble down his chin as he quickly slides his tongue out and in, swirling it around inside of me and playing with my entrance every time he slips out.

I close my own eyes, pleasure making my back stiff as I hold his head between my thighs, hyperfocusing on the feeling of him tongue fucking me, the knot in my stomach tightening with every move, big or small. The noises he makes as he eats me out are improper, through and through. His voice makes insanity inducing vibrations that spread throughout me with each pathetic, high pitched moan. The bed creeks with every thrust of his hips against the old mattress. A part of me wonders if he's being so vocal for the tape currently recording us, paranoid that the cassette player on his nightstand may not be able to hear us properly. Another part of me likes to think that he's just this into it, so driven insane by my body that he just simply can't help the noises of pleasure that escape him. The idea makes me grip his hair tighter, my hips beginning to thrust harder against his face, making his voice rise in pitch as his eyes drift open, glazed and stupid while he admires me. His nails dig into my ass, his tongue hardly moving out of me now as he fucks me.

"You like it when I fuck your face like this?" I ask him, watching his blush grow as he nods against me, his hips quickening as I thrust harder into his mouth, my thighs tightening around his head. He looks so pretty like this, so utterly desperate.

"You want me to cum on your tongue?" I ask him, tugging his hair harder. He shakes his head, swirling his tongue around inside of me, making me groan lowly. "Where should I cum then?"

Mike slips his tongue out of me quickly, raising his head slightly as he speaks. "On my face," he says sweetly before diving back between my legs, lapping greedily at my entrance while I moan.

"Oh," I drawl slowly, letting him play with me while I watch. "You want me to paint that pretty face?"

Mike moans against me, sliding his tongue into me once more as he ruts against the bed, his eyes closing once more as he puts his all into the act.

"Do you like warming me up for your cock like this?" I ask him, giggling when he dives deeper inside of me in response. "Such a good way to get me ready to breed."

This seems to do the trick for Mike, his eyes snapping open to watch me as he fucks my hole desperately, moaning and panting as his tongue slides in and out, slick noises echoing throughout the room with each movement.

My breathing hitches in my throat as I fuck his face roughly, my stomach feeling tight as my orgasm edges closer, my teeth digging into my lower lip.

"I'm not gonna last much longer," I warn Mike, thrusting harder onto his rapid tongue while one of my hands begin to play with my now neglected nipple. One of Mike's hands quickly finds the other, both of us now playing with my chest to make me whine as I edge ever close, my eyes squeezing shut as I focus on my climax, my voice ragged and high as I moan for Mike to quicken his hand. He obeys immediately, his thumbnail flicking at the hard bud while his other hand squeezes my ass, nails digging into the cheek while he moans into me. I steal a look downwards at him, locking eyes with his now possessive glare while he watches me with eager satisfaction, silently begging me to come undone onto his face. And with such a beautiful, demanding man fucking me like this, who am I to say no?

"I'm coming," I stutter as the tight knot in my stomach begins to snap. "Fuck, Jesus, I'm coming!"

Mike moans in harmony with me, eyes widening in excitement as I pull him as tight against me as I can. My own eyes flutter shut, my hand clamping down over my mouth to muffle my sharp cries, my body trembling as my muscles stiffen, pleasure ripping through me to the point I clamp my thighs tight around Mike's head, pumping into his mouth with such vigor I'm almost worried he may not be able to breathe properly. But he doesn't ask me to stop, his pants soft and desperate as his own body shakes.

The force of my orgasm takes me by surprise, relaxation kicking in hard enough that when I close my eyes, it's hard to open them again. With each tremble from the waves pulsing through me I'm coaxed back into sleep, my muscles slowly relaxing one by one, my mind shutting off, and it doesn't take long before I can hear a deep voice in my ear, whining something much too loud for my tastes.

"Mm," I groan once again. "C'mere, come cuddle with m-"

"I asked you, very politely, to stay awake," Mike whispers in my ear. My eyes flutter open, blinking rapidly to adjust once more to the morning light. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"

In Mike's hand is a small washcloth, wiping away at the leftover cum I had painted his face with. Mike's hand is rubbing my thigh as he grazes his cock over my hole, teasing me as punishment.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, a blush rising to my cheeks as I try to put on my best act of innocence so maybe he'll skip the torture and go straight to fucking me.

"No," Mike drawls, his hand inching closer. "No, I don't think you are."

The tip of Mike's cock presses against my entrance, threatening to dip in, making me moan desperately.

"Shush," Mike soothes me, wrapping his hand around my throat slowly, finger by finger. "Don't wake the rest of the house."

Mike slips his middle finger inside of me, pumping quickly and hard. I whimper quietly, which seems to be too loud for his taste.

"I said be quiet," Mike whispers patiently as he carefully squeezes my throat. I try to reach for his hair only to discover my hands have been bound to the bedframe by some sort of cloth.

"You like my tie, sweet thing?" Mike asks sweetly, slamming harder into me. I can hear the increasing volume of the smacking inside me as he fucks me with his hand, sounding so delicious as he curls his fingers just right. Mike leans in closer, running his tongue over the bottom of my lip before shoving it inside of my mouth to claim me once again. I moan loudly, giving in fully to desire as he has his way with me. Mike pulls away instantly, choking me hard enough my airflow is slightly restricted. His ring finger slips inside of me right before he begins to slam inside of me with all of his strength, making me gasp pathetically while he ruins my tightening hole, my legs trembling as I arch my back, pressing against his smooth tie. I wrap the longer end around my palm, tugging at it in desperation. Mike bites down on my neck again, and I'm about to cry out when the doorbell buzzes throughout the living room, making us both jolt in surprise at the sudden interruption.

"No, no, no, no!" I whine, my eyes wide as I feel Mike thrust into me one final time as hard as he can before pulling away, leaving me empty and trembling while he stands from the bed. "Come back, come back!"

Mike looks cocky and pleased with himself while he pulls a sweater on over his head, glancing back over his shoulder at me for just a second.

"Just go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll handle it," he coos like an asshole.

"B-but I'm not- we-"

Mike is out the door before I can protest, our unexpected guest buzzing once more in clear irritation at the slow response to their arrival. Who the fuck even is it? It's hardly even seven!

Disappointed and frustrated, I slump against the bed, clearly pouting as I hear Mike open the front door. And Abby is slipping out of her room now too, her young voice muffled through the walls as she greets Aunt Jane, apparently.

Oh my god.

Not fucking fair!

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

You know, I wasn't gonna write this. I just pulled a bunch of tags out of my ass when I originally posted the fake fic, but then I decided you guys took the joke so well that you all deserved a little treat. Say 'thank you, Dani.' <3

I may be an asshole, but I'm not evil. So, I expanded my regular taglist to include the horny fucks that got trolled so they could read my bullshitted glory. You're welcome 😌 (would love to have you join the taglist full time, btw!):

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise @orchidmothh @mystargirl-interlude @freak-accident419 @fatinhadesiners06 @mrjsbunny @futureman @sleepyhutcherson @lile6969 @heartsoremania @bowerssz51 @nick-nacker @joshhutchersonsgf @kathybernice @janitorhutcherson @sofiehutch. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Happy April fools day, everyone. Thanks for following, reblogging and commenting. See you next time!

                •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[gyuwoncheol]

Let Me Love You

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, established relationship, 18+ only (MDNI)

Summary: You just want to shower Cheol with all the love and softness in the world and he’s determined to do the same.

Warnings: sickening fluff, big dick!Cheol, porn with plot, very brief wrist pinning, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), allusions to subspace, multiple orgasms, back scratching, grinding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe kids), creampie, bulge kink, begging, swearing, dirty talk, hair pulling, marking, pet names, crying during sex (only cause the dick is so good but not mentioned as a kink), just them being so madly in love. Lmk if i missed smth!

WC: 5.3k

Note: completely self indulgent because i’m down BAD for Cheol. Plus, I really do believe in getting your boyfriend flowers too. I know Cheol would just LOVE it.

“What are these?” Seungcheol started the moment your face appeared on his screen, waving the bouquet in his hands

“Well hello to you too” you greeted, “and those are flowers”

“For?”

“For you, silly” you smiled, leaving a very dumbfounded Seungcheol on Facetime. His brows knitted together even more, eyes questioning your answers and the fact that you’re so nonchalant about it all.

Just 10 minutes ago, one of the staff handed him a buoquet of flowers when they called for lunch break during rehearsals and had told him it was from you

“Ooooh, Coups hyung has floooowersssss” DK had teased, only to call the attention of all 12 boys much to Sungcheol’s chagrin

While Joshua complimented the pretty pink wrapper and yellow ribbon that wrapped around the lilies and carnations, the rest of the boys teased their leader playfully. With Seungkwan even threatening that Cheol might have forgotten an important anniversary date of sorts and this was your way of expressing passive agression.

That was when Seungcheol’s overthinking went into overdrive. He was about 500% sure that wasn’t it, he never forgets milestone dates with you, but then again he had been very busy the past few weeks as they geared up for their Japan comeback. Maybe, just maybe, he did forget something which is why he quickly ran to his studio, flowers in hand and your facetime already on dial, his lunch long forgotten.

“Jagi, i’m being serious here”

You giggled at the sight of your boyfriend’s pout, “I am being serious too! Those are for you, baby. Didn’t you read the card?”

“I did! But is this a prank? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t forget a date, did i? Are you mad at—”

“Woah woah, Cheol, slow down” you interrupted, “i’m not mad. You did nothing wrong. Am i not allowed to simply get my baby some flowers?”

“Uhh… yes??” He responded, the statement sounding more like a question

“Yes, i’m not allowed?”

“Yes— i mean, no..” Seungcheol stuttered, “well, okay but why?!”

“Just because!” You shrugged on screen, highly amused by the confusion written all over your boyfriend’s face

“But baby, i’m supposed to get you flowers, not the other way around” he explained, admittedly feeling a tiny bit emasculated by the fact you got him flowers. He was used to getting flowers when they won awards or attended shows but no one has actually ever given him flowers for him alone

“Hey now! There is no such rule that only boyfriends can give flowers! I personally believe that boyfriends deserve getting flowers too!”

Seungcheol was opening his mouth, about to retaliate when you interrupted him once more, albeit softer this time, “Cheollie, those are for you. From me. I know you’ve been busy and tired lately, so i thought sending you some flowers might brighten up your day… the same way mine always does when you get me some”

He glanced at the buoquet of flowers sitting on his desk and then at you, the sweetest smile on your face and your eyes filled with love and that’s when it really hit him that this truly was a genuine gesture from you. You saw through the screen how a light blush slowly crept on his cheeks, his face shifting from that of confusion to being flustered.

“So… t-they’re really for me?”

“Mhmm.. all yours”

The shyest smile erupted from your boyfriend, the crinkles on his eyes appearing, “i love you baby. Thank you for these.”

Cheol held the flowers close to him, inhaling the sweet scent of lilies and actually giving the flowers a good look this time, noticing that it was actually big enough to cover his face and then some more. He loved the flowers you picked and the foliage accents that came with it, noting that you thought hard about what to put together to suit his liking.

“I love you too, baby. I’m proud of you.” You reminded

If he wasn’t a flustered mess awhile ago, then he surely is now. It’s not every day he gets treated like this, and when he thinks about how most boyfriends don’t actually get treated like this, his heart skips a beat at just how special he feels to have you in his life, simultaneously making a mental note to return the favor and give you all his love too.

“Cheol?” You called out, stepping out of your shoes and dropping your keys by the bowl near the door. It was late but for Seungcheol to be home at this time was still considered early. It was usual for rehearsals these days to stretch into the wee hours of the night.

You cleared your throat again as you stepped into the kitchen where Seungcheol was humming along with the soft r&b music that flowed through the speakers, his attention being occupied by the whole chocolate cake he was pulling out the box

“Jagi!” He exclaimed loudly, arms already opening wide and approaching you for a big hug. Your feet lifted off the ground as Seungcheol effortlessly picked you up and peppered kisses all over your face, reducing you to a giggly mess

“Someone’s in a good mood” you mused as he sat you on the counter with one sweet kiss on your lips and his arms still around your waist, “and you’re home early”

“Mhmm. Told the boys i needed to do some damage control after you sent the flowers”

“Cheol, we’ve been over this, you didn’t do—“

“I know, i know” he squeezed you where his hand rested on your hips, “i just said that to get me out early” a proud grin on his face.

“Babe!”

“What? It’s okay… you know they hate it when i get sulky when we’re fighting. They basically kicked me out of there”

“But that’s a lie! We’re not fighting, and you’re definitely not sulking”

“They don’t need to know that. And it’s okay, we had perfected the dance already” your boyfriend smirked, just happy he finally got some time with you before bed “cmon, there’s lots to do”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like cutting this cake i bought for you” a sheepish smile on his face, “i tried to go get you flowers too but by the time i got there, they were closing down and didn’t have your favorite ones, so i got the next best thing”

You cupped your boyfriend’s cheeks, erasing the pout that formed during his explanation, “my favorite chocolate cake is most definitely the next best thing, and besides, you didn’t even have to get me flowers, honey. Could you please just let the flower giving today be for you? I just want to shower you with random gifts too without you having to do anything back. Just let me love you, pleaaaase?”

With a scrunched nose, Cheol buried his face on your chest, “i don’t knoooow” he whined, “just— just maybe not in front of the boys again? Your gifts make me shy”

The laugh you let out was boisterous and loud and shook the whole of your body, “aww, did the leader get teased by his members today?”

“Yes. And it was NOT fun! Mingyu even got mad at me before i left, told me i needed to learn to say sorry first when we have fights”

You cooed at your boyfriend’s words, always happy to know that his members also had your back whenever they think Seungcheol did something bad to you

“Hey, but isn’t that the same train you rode on to get out of work early today?”

“Yes, but i didn’t want to be teased” he sulked

“Okay, big boy. No more flower deliveries in front of your brothers next time. Now, can we please eat that cake already?”

The treat right next to you was calling your name, it had been your favorite since you were in university and when Seungcheol had quickly discovered that if there was one sure fire way to get your spirits up, it would be a slice of that chocolate cake, he always made sure to get it for you on every celebration and apology. He delicately transfered a massive slice onto a plate before feeding you a forkful of it, a smile on his face watching you devour it as your legs happily swayed from the counter.

This, right here, in this kitchen with you and your cake and him and his flowers is what it’s all about, Seungcheol thought.

“Baby…” your boyfriend started shyly, “will you help me fix my flowers?”

“Of course, my love. How do you want them?”

“In a vase, on my bedside table” he answered without hesitation “so that i can see it right away when i wake up”

“Wow, looks like you haven’t thought this through at all, huh?” You teased, happy to know that the flowers were a successful gift

“You can’t blame me! They’re so pretty!”

A deeper blush painted Cheol’s cheeks, he hated to admit it but he did absolutely love the flowers you got him. To him, it was ultimately the nicest random gesture he’s ever gotten from someone he loved. Now he understood why you— and most girls— loved receiving flowers.

The both of you fell into a comfortable conversation as you arranged his flowers nicely in a vase while he fueled you with never ending forkfuls of cake.

When you had both retired to the bedroom, dishes cleaned in the kitchen and lights turned off, you happily set the vase of flowers on his bedside table like he asked

“Is this okay?”

“Mhmm.. more than okay” Seungcheol’s strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, “they’re beautiful…” his lips ghosted on your neck as he admired the light colored petals

“You’re beautiful.” He said just slightly above a whisper with a wet open mouthed kiss on your neck

Your breath hitched when you felt him suck at the spot just below your ear, the air in the bedroom suddenly feeling hot and heavy. Sungcheol flattened his wet tongue on the spot to soothe it but only to resume sucking on it again. The repetitive motion surely leaving a bruise on its wake and making you weak on the knees as your hands gripped on his arms around your waist for support

“You like that, baby?” A low growl rumbled through his chest that sent tingles right between your legs

You wanted to say yes but all you could muster was a nod

“Words, baby”

“Yes!” You exhaled in a rush, rubbing your thighs together for reprieve

Your boyfriend squeezed your waist tighter, teasing “want more?”

You eagerly nodded, not one to waste time. Given Cheol’s schedule and your fair share of busy days in the office, it’s been a while since you both had been intimate

“I said, i need words”

“Cheollie, p-please” you whimpered so desperately

Luckily for you, Seungcheol had missed feeling you too and didn’t plan to tease you so much tonight. He pushed you onto the bed, and with way too much force, his hands pulled your dress shirt open, sending buttons flying to different directions

“Cheol!” You shrieked, but he couldn’t care less.

As one hand worked on getting you out of the blouse, his other hand skilfully unhooked your bra, exposing your breasts to him. You saw him lick his lips before hungrily diving in for your left nipple sucking and kissing and biting while his other hand all but traced the area around your right nipple lazily. The contrasting experience your breasts got had you writhing under his weight and clawing at his back to pull his own shirt off him

“Babe!” You called out loudly, snapping Seungcheol out of boobie land, “your shirt! Off! Please!”

A devilish smirk flashed on his face at your demand, he really loved it when you used your words in the bedroom. It had been something he’d taught you to do early on in your relationship when he realised you’d been biting your lips so much just trying to hold back from saying anything. He liked to hear you say what you want and did not want, and he especially loved it when you were being loud.

He reached over at the back of his shirt to pull it off in one swift motion, throwing the white oversized tee to the ground. Your eyes grew larger at the sight of his bare chest but before you could even do anything, his hand had snatched both your wrists and pinned them above your head

“Happy?” He asked, his biceps flexing above you as his eyes turned a few shades darker

“No” was the answer that came out of your mouth that shocked your boyfriend, “i want you to kiss me” you challenged

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips latching onto yours immediately with fervor, happy to have found that you had already given access for his tongue to explore your mouth. There was no point in fighting for dominance, you were happy to submit yourself to Cheol, happy to just be held and loved by him after a while. With every move he made, the more wetness pooled in your panties, and as you lifted your hips to gain some friction, Seungcheol was quick enough to push your hips back down to the mattress 

"Easy, baby. Don't worry, I got you" he assured, finally giving you a chance to refill on oxygen and tangle your hands in his hair when your wrists were set free

He trailed down your body, covering every inch of your torso with wet open kisses, each second that held him back from where you wanted him just driving you crazy. And he knew this. You knew he knew it too, with the way he stopped right above the hemline of your pencil skirt only to look up to you with the most lust filled eyes 

"Baby, please... I need you right now" 

"Nuh uh" he chastised, his hands working on sliding the zipper down, loosening up your skirt so he could take it off you. "Need to taste you first" He said with another growl that has once again caused wetness to rush in your cunt

In a most lewd act, you stared dumbfounded at your boyfriend who buried his nose on your covered pussy, taking a deep inhale all while his eyes remained on yours, "You smell so fucking good, i can't wait to devour you" 

And devour you, he did. Your panties coming off in record time, his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking like it was the last piece of lollipop on earth. His teeth grazed at the sensitive bud before soothing it with a kiss and a hard suck, something he knew would make your eyes roll back. When you felt his finger travel up your slit, a strangled moan ripped out your throat, making your boyfriend smirk like a mad man. 

"God baby, you're so wet, you'll suck my fingers right in"

You would've disagreed if you didn't just hear the squelch that reverberated in the room when Seungcheol dipped his middle finger in your hole. Barely five pumps in and he thought it enough to already add a second digit, making your back arch off the mattress and tears prick in your eyes. A tight knot in your stomach making itself felt as you smiled, missing the feeling of an oncoming orgasm. 

"Fuck, Cheol!" you said through gritted teeth, the sensation of his fingers massaging your walls and his thick lips tugging at your clit was nothing short of heaven. His long fingers grazing the rough velvety spot inside you was enough to make you see stars

"Babe, I-i.. W-won't last l-long" You warned, the knot on your abdomen coiling as tight as the grip you had on his scalp 

"Hold on a little more, yeah?" your boyfriend requested, a determined look on his face when he looked up at you, a slight sheen on his face, "I Haven't even gotten a full taste yet" 

"THEN HURRY THE FUCK UP, CHEOL!" You screamed, slamming your fists on the bed, making Seungcheol laugh at your frustration 

"YES, MAAM!" he agreed, pulling his fingers out of you to form a perfect salute right before he sucked your juices from his fingers. Your whine at the loss of contact however, had quickly transformed into a moan when his wet tongue dove into your cunt. The slurping sound he produced being the most unholy thing you've heard tonight.

"FUUUUUUCK" You drawled out, shaking helplessly as you fought so hard to hold the orgasm that was begging to explode. You were right there, teetering off the edge.  

But the idiot below you had other plans, detaching his mouth at the exact moment you were ready to fall. A struggled sob racked through you. The knot that was so tight started to feel like it was moving away. 

"Cheooool" You scolded pathetically with a whimper 

"You taste like honey" He declared proudly above your pussy, the widest grin plastered on his face. It would've been innocently cute if he just wasn't glistening with your juices and if he didn't just deprive you of the one thing you've been longing for for weeks now.

"I wanna cum" you sobbed. It was supposed to come out like a bratty demand, but alas, that attitude can only last so long. "Please baby... let me cum" 

Bless Seungcheol's tongue, you thought. Because as quickly as the feeling went away, so did its return. And this time, with twice the intensity. He licked a fat stripe on the expanse of your pussy, stopping to swirl by your clit before diving back down to your hole.

It was when his thumb drew circular motions in sync with his tongue that you truly felt delirious

"Cum for me, baby" He said just above a whisper but it's all you heard. In mere seconds, the dam broke and your orgasm hit you like a wall, knocking the air out of your lungs and blacking your vision.

Your body shook and your thighs trembled, trapping Seungcheol's head in between. You wanted to push him away, fearing the overstimulation that you knew was fast approaching, but you were so far gone, like you had just ran 5 marathons straight. All while he was happily lapping up every single drop you were willing to give. Your orgasm seeming to last wave after wave sending you to a place only Choi Seungcheol could.

"Cheol, what the fuck was that?" You whimpered when your senses started kicking in and his face was now inches from yours 

He hummed at the sex-crazed look on your face, "hmmm. just the best meal of my life" proudly grinning once again before kissing you on the lips

You moaned in agreement, tasting yourself on him, your brain still reeling from the orgasm you just had. Your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss when you started to feel the sensation of your limbs again. Admittedly, you were exhausted to your very core, but when you felt your boyfriend's painfully hard cock against your thigh, it's like your body willed itself to reenergize. 

Seungcheol felt your fingernails trace his spine, his jaw going slack at the sensation, allowing you enough chance to have your tongue explore his mouth. He loved it when you scratched and traced his back. And he surely loved kissing you. As morbid as it was, he always said that he could immediately die after making out with you and he would die a happy man. So lost in the feel of your mouth on his, he slightly jumped when he felt you palm his cock through his sweats. 

"Babe" he reprimanded, creating a small space between your bodies

"Cheollie" you whined, "you haven't— you haven't even..."

He chuckled incredulously at your words, surprised you still had it in you to go another round after he surely witnessed you cross another dimension from a long overdue orgasm, "Baby, it's okay. You're exhausted, and I can take care of this myself. Just want to make you feel good…. Jus’ wanna love you"

"Then do it" You replied breathlessly, "Make love to me, Cheol" 

Your bedroom smelled of sex but when Choi Seungcheol looked at you, your eyes big and doey, full of love more than lust, the brightest smile grew on his face, his cheeks almost hurting. He couldn't even mask it if he wanted to. It's like time had momentarily stopped for him as you laid there bare against his body, caged in between his arms, face inches just away from yours that he could feel your every breath tickle his lips. His heart was exploding with so much love and care and happiness that he could hear his own heartbeat sync with yours. Make no mistake: your bedroom smelled of sex, but in that moment, there was nothing but pure love in that room. 

"y/n, are you sure?" He asked one more time, cupping your cheek to make sure you were back to reality and you would answer him consciously.

You nodded softly at his words, your own hand coming to hold his, "Yes, I need you to make love to me, Cheol" you repeated loud and clear and with conviction, your hands pulling at the material of his sweatpants to get it off him

Seriously, his cheeks were hurting from smiling too much as he helped you get himself out of his boxers next. Your mouth immediately salivating at the sight of his dick slapping hard against his stomach. His tip was an angry shade of red, leaking with precum and god you just wanted so badly to suck him off. But that would be reserved for another time, maybe in the morning, you thought. 

"I love you, baby" were the words that came out of his mouth when he once again lay atop of you, grinding his cock on your pussy to coat it with your slick 

"i love you, too" You said with a whince when you felt his tip breach your entrance. 

"Breathe, jagi. Breathe." Seungcheol reminded you as he slowly entered you with every inch. Sure he had just given you the best foreplay of your life, but he knew himself that his fingers were only a fraction to the size of him. He especially knew that it had been awhile since you both had sex so the initial pain was definitely to be felt. His eyes were trained on your face and he noticed every sharp inhale, every shudder and whince, and every lip bite you did as you patiently took on his hard cock, knowing that soon enough the pain would turn into immeasurable pleasure. Seungcheol was breathing loudly as he continued pushing in slowly, hoping to get your breath to sync with his. 

"Doing so good for me, jagi" he whispered repetitively into your ears. 

When he finally bottomed out, he stayed completely still for you, feeling your nails claw at his back as if finding something to ground yourself onto 

"I'm right here, y/n. Right here." He reminded you with a call of your name, resting his chin on the crook of your neck which ought to do the trick for you. You were lucky enough to have your boyfriend know you like the back of his hand. It's what made sex with him always so intimate and sacred despite the very dirty things he was actually doing to you. 

"Cheollie, please move" You whimpered when you couldn't take the stillness anymore

Your boyfriend grinded on you to make sure of your request and when you moaned out his name in pleasure, he was assured you had asked him correctly. Seungcheol withdrew his full length, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you before slamming back in. The motion alone sending you higher on the mattress which made him grunt at the sight. 

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" He groaned, the feeling of your walls fluttering on his cock just sending him into a craze of thrusting in and out of you 

You could feel every vein on his cock, as he pumped continuously. His balls slapping against your skin just adding to the lewd noises that your pussy was making as it took in all of your boyfriend's girthy length. 

He dipped his head low and captured your right nipple on his mouth during one particular thrust of his cock and the overwhelming feeling had your back arching off the mattress for the nth time that night, tears once again pricking your eyes at how good everything just felt

"B-babe.." you struggled to form words, "Ha..Hard—harder please!" You rushed out 

He was done teasing you awhile ago, now, he was going to make love to you like you so politely asked.

"what my baby wants, my baby gets" Seungcheol said assuringly, like he was rallying a battalion of soldiers. In one swift motion, he hooked your right leg on his shoulders and thrusted in you so deep, a string of profanities leaving your mouth as your second orgasm washed over you without so much as a warning. You were rendered so speechless that your boyfriend couldn't help but chuckle

"Fucking you so good, you can't even tell when you're cumming huh?" He said with a cocky smirk on his face, completely driving you insane. 

You wanted to form words, tell him how good he was, how good you felt, how you wanted to stop to process what just happened, but also needed more, but all your brain could do was form incoherent noises. This only prodded Cheol to grind his body on yours, leaving open mouthed kisses on your face and lips as you tried to make sense of that orgasm that came out of nowhere

“You like this baby? Like my cock inside your tight pussy?“ he continued, reveling at the fact that he had just made you cum for the second time that night

Your boyfriend hooked your other leg on his shoulder to effectively fold you in half with every thrust, hitting you so deep that you could feel him in your cervix.

"Cmon baby, one more yeah?" He asked with a deep groan.You couldn't even deny him of his favor, not when the new angle he's put you on already had another orgasm forming in your stomach so quickly.

He would deliciously shift between thrusting and grinding, you simply thanked the heavens you had a boyfriend who knew how to move his body so well. 

You experimentingly pressed your hand on the bulge that formed on your stomach where his cock would hit and in a flash, Seungcheol felt his own orgasm hot in his heels. He was so focused in making you feel good tonight that he forgot just how much he needed to cum too. The sight of him so deep in you, your boobs bouncing with every thrust, it was the perfect recipe to just drive him off the edge. 

"Babe— Baby... I won't last..." He tried to say, his attention focusing on hitting your gspot with every thrust to get you there with him 

"I- I know babe" you confirmed, not a stranger to the way his hips would stutter and his left brow would rise when he was about to come undone

You tightened your hold on him, your pussy sucking him in so tight making it harder for him to withdraw. He loved feeling your hole spasm. You brought him down to you by the neck, your mouth latching onto his collar bone to suck intently, willing it to turn purple by tomorrow. Cheol whimpered at the sensation, feeling delirious himself. 

"Babe—" 

"Cum in me, Cheollie" you interrupted him, "Give me all your love" 

Like magic words, Seungcheol came undone, his warm seed painting your walls white as he panted for air. His orgasm lasted so long that it set off your third one. Your cum mixed together as you both trembled from your own highs, whispering sweet nothings to each other. 

When he felt his toes finally uncurl, he collapsed onto the bed but not without rolling you on top of him so that he was still inside you. You could already feel your mixed sticky cum slowly leak out your pussy and onto his thighs but you couldn’t bother for now. You just wanted to stay close to Cheol as much as possible, ghosting your lips at the expanse of his chest, leaving lovebites in your wake.

After sex cuddles with your boyfriend was always like getting your favorite dessert after a hearty meal. And you knew this one would be extra special, especially after having such an intimate time together after so long. Not to mention the precious after care Seungcheol would shower you with in a few minutes. 

"I love you, jagi" you said, using the nickname he uses for you on him and adoring the happiness that adorned your boyfriend's face

His eyes smiled at you, holding you tight against his chest, "I love you too, baby" 

A cold bed was not what you expected to wake up to after the night you just had with your boyfriend, but it seems that at 6:32am, when you finally shut off your alarm, and decided to open your eyes, it was what you were greeted with. Cheol wasn't in his spot. You groaned audibly, annoyed at the fact that you woke up alone, but moreso because everything just felt sore down there. You knew Cheol hadn't left for work yet, his phone was still on his bedside table.

Speaking of the bedside table, it looked awfully empty and that's when it hit you: His vase of flowers were gone. Did he suddenly hit them and break the vase? Surely, you would've heard it shatter to the floor if that was the case. The sudden curiosity in your mind was enough to get you out of bed, albeit, wincing at every step you took down the stairs.

"Baby?" you called out when you heard Cheol's distant humming 

"Kitchen, my love" 

You caught him redhanded as you entered the kitchen, half of his flowers outside the vase while he tried to rearrange the other half that's left in it. A sheepish smile on his face, "Good morning" 

"Hmm... morning" You grumbled, immediately gravitating to his side to get some warmth, your face burrowing on his chest, "I wanted to wake up beside you" you complained 

"Sorry, baby. I just got used to leaving so early for work" 

"But you don't start until later at 9am you said. So why didn't you stay in bed?" You countered, not even caring that you were now full on whining like a kid throwing a tantrum 

Your boyfriend felt bad but not as much as he was enjoying your little fit 

"Sorry, baby" He said again, turning you to face him while he cupped your cheeks with his large hands, leaving a quick peck on your forehead "it's just that when i woke up the first thing i saw were your flowers— my flowers. And then I looked at you and I was just so happy, I can't even explain it. Like nothing could ruin my day. So I took the vase cause I want to transfer some of them. I'll leave half of them on my bedside table, and the other half i'll put in another vase I can bring to work and place in my studio. That way, i'll be reminded of you… and then work won't feel so gloomy after all" he grinned, more than proud of his wonderful idea.

With the way Seungcheol enthusiastically explained his plan, you couldn't be mad. It tugged at your heart strings how happy the simple gesture of gifting him flowers was. You pinched his cheeks softly, endeared at the handsome, happy face smiling back at you. "I love you, Cheol" 

If every night ended up like last night and your boyfriend was this excited every day he got flowers, you made a mental note to make a subscription at the flower shop for flowers delivered especially for Choi Seungcheol.

[loveinhawkins]

Steve thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding it, but then Eddie catches his eye right as he’s limping out of the RV and… huh, maybe not.

Eddie, with panicked urgency—which, in Steve’s opinion, is admittedly sweet but unnecessary—asks if the bites are bothering him again.

“No, dude, it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It’s literally nothing.”

Eddie doesn’t look at all reassured.

Goddamn it, Steve thinks. Better rip off the band aid and hope it’s not too mortifying.

“It’s not the bites. It’s… um. My feet.”

Eddie glances down but there’s nothing to see; as soon he’d entered The War Zone, Steve had crammed his feet into the first pair of combat boots he could find.

“Oh,” Eddie says, the penny dropping. “Oh, shit. Yeah, hang on, just…”

He looks around, humming in thought, then grabs a bottle of water with decisiveness, and yeah, Steve thinks, this is gonna be incredibly mortifying.

But he can’t find a way to wriggle out of it without making the whole thing a way bigger deal than it needs to be—so he ends up sat in the grass, wincing as he pries off his boots.

It is, in a word, gross.

“Don’t know why they’re bugging me so damn much,” Steve says just to fill the silence. He huffs self-effacingly, goes to wiggle his toes before deciding ow, better not and ew, better not. “It’s, like, hardly anything compared to…”

He gestures to the bandage wrapped around him.

“Well, you weren’t walking on your stomach,” Eddie points out.

He pours out water onto some tissues he’s rustled up and gets to work.

Steve keeps waiting for the embarrassment to well and truly set in.

But… it doesn’t.

Eddie doesn’t once make a crack about how awful his feet look.

Instead he launches into a story of how, against his uncle’s sage advice, he’d gone to school in a new pair of boots (his birthday present) without breaking them in first.

It was freshman year, so Eddie’s whole look hadn’t been solidified yet. But he was determined to make it work—stomping around the school (“Were any lunch tables harmed?” Steve asks, and Eddie warmly tells him to shut up), steadfastly ignoring the growing discomfort.

At the end of the day, he’d taken his boots off and surveyed the damage with a melodramatic cry; “Kid, I really don’t know what to tell ya,” Wayne had huffed.

Eddie hams up his whiny, teenaged disgust so that he becomes the butt of the joke, and Steve suddenly feels like he’s watching a magician onstage—except he knows where to look, isn’t fooled by the sleight of hand: Eddie’s dramatics all serve as a distraction from the caked on dirt and blood he steadily cleans off Steve’s skin.

It’s quiet, unassuming. A hidden kindness.

Eddie doesn’t need to be doing this; Steve could quite easily take the bottled water and do it all himself—would probably get it over and done with in a matter of minutes, concealed around the other side of the RV, quick and perfunctory.

But you’re letting him, Steve thinks. Why are you letting him?

Eddie’s hands are cold, a pleasant contrast to the burning sensation all across his feet—honestly, he’d been hoping that so long as he just kept walking, he’d gradually become numb to it.

There’s a loud rip of plastic as a pack of baby wipes are opened. Eddie’s touch is light which soothes some of the sting, at least; he trails off into silence as he works, hissing sympathetically at whatever’s revealed.

“You’ve got a couple cracks,” he says, eyebrows drawn.

Steve gives an over exaggerated sigh. “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna have to chop ‘em off?”

Eddie chuckles, but his concern doesn’t fade away.

“Just here,” he says, pointing, and the tip of his finger brushes against Steve’s heel—Steve tries not to, but he twitches reflexively, and Eddie flashes him an impish grin. “Ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, smiling.

He kicks out, stops just short of actually hitting Eddie in the face.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Harrington,” Eddie says through laughter, pushing Steve’s foot away—gently. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

It’s a joke; Steve knows it’s a joke. But—

“You don’t need to do that, man. Robin already knows.”

Eddie stands up and stretches, gives Steve’s ankle a little pat.

“Think you’re all set—woah, wait,” he says as Steve reaches for the combat boots, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, what’s it look like?”

“Harrington. You cannot put those on without socks again, you’re gonna summon my uncle; he’s got, like, a sixth sense about that kinda stuff.”

Eddie’s smile drops a little at that, a flash of melancholy breaking through.

God, you must really miss him, Steve thinks.

“I’m just making do. I don’t have any socks.”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie’s smile returns in full force—puzzled, perhaps just a little fond. “You got me some, remember?”

Eddie retrieves a pair from the RV and, that’s right, Steve had forgotten: he’d bought a whole pack during their first grocery trip, after Eddie had made an offhand comment about feeling cold in the boathouse.

Poor guy, Steve had thought as they walked through The Upside Down. This is cold on a whole new level.

The socks are thick and warm. Steve pulls on the boots, relishing the fact that his toes no longer scream in protest as he does so.

He tightens the laces; Eddie’s sat down opposite him again.

“There. Ready for battle,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over the combat boots, then Steve’s whole get-up—and there’s nothing teasing in his gaze now, as if he’s seeing everything in another light. Like the gravity of it all has just hit him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Battle.”

“Hey, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Eddie huffs with a wan smile. “Wow. And just like that, I won’t.”

Steve nudges him with his foot. Gentle. “M’not gonna ruin your handiwork.”

Eddie doesn’t reply.

Steve stands, tries a short walk in place. It’ll work. It has to.

“I’d just do it again,” Eddie says suddenly. “If… I—I wouldn’t mind.”

Steve pauses. Offers Eddie a hand and pulls him up.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Steve says softly.

And then he lets go of Eddie’s hand.

Standing tall, he starts to round everyone up for the drive back—and wishes them all a future of simple fixes: of superficial cracks, easy to patch up.

[demonpiratehuntress]

The Straw Hats realise they like you and confess

Featuring: Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Usopp x F!Reader

Warnings - angst to comfort (Zoro and Sanji). this is my first time writing for the anime, I'm still very new (only on episode 194) so please be nice, and let me know if they're ooc

ZORO

"He's avoiding me."

"He's not-"

"He can't stand to be in the same room as me."

Despite Nami's protests and reassurance, you were convinced that the green-haired swordsman was doing his utmost best to stay away from you. There was a distance between you two that hadn't been there until two days ago. Two days ago being the moment he realised he had feelings for you - unbeknownst to you.

"I'm sure there's an explanation-" Robin started.

"Well whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."

You were hurt. He had just stopped talking to you, stopped seeking you out for naps, and stopped being in your presence entirely. You don't even know what you did, and that hurt even more. You stood up from the table, brushing past the frozen swordsman as he entered the room. Tears evident in your eyes to all of them as they watched you go.

Why were you crying? Zoro was immediately concerned. He cared about you, after all, much more than anyone else on the crew. He hadn't realised that until he learned his feelings towards you were romantic, which is the reason for his distancing. He was, admittedly, scared by the fact that he liked you, and his defense mechanism of avoidance kicked in.

"What did you do now?" Nami practically growled at the swordsman.

"Me?" He protested. "I didn't do anything."

The orange-haired navigator rolled her eyes, "You're an idiot. You're avoiding her, and it's making her think you suddenly hate her."

Zoro's mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he didn't know what. You thought he hated you? That couldn't be further from the truth. He, the man who had your favourite colour, favourite food, and favourite everything committed to memory, he who knew your birthday better than his own, he who looked through every store on island stops to find something you would like, could never hate you.

But, he supposes avoiding you might have sent the wrong message.

The next day is pretty much the same, with you being in the room and Zoro not. You sighed and buried your face in your arms, just as the swordsman walked in. This time, he didn't leave.

"(Name)."

You looked up, surprised to hear him saying your name. Then you frowned, and dropped your head onto your arms again. You weren't in the mood to deal with him right now.

"I'm...sorry," he got out, a little slow but he managed. "Please look at me."

You sighed again before lifting your head, "What?"

You froze in place, seeing a familiar flower being held out to you. The green-haired swordsman had a bright blush on his face, but he had his head turned as he offered your favourite flower to you, probably too embarrassed about blushing to look at you. You took the flower gently, your own blush forming on your cheeks.

"I like you."

You were stunned for a moment, before your burst into laughter. His eyes widened, his blush darkening as he frowned at you.

"What-what's so funny?!"

"You're adorable."

"I AM NOT ADORABLE!"

The rest of you laughed as he grumbled and hastily trudged off, and you smiled as you looked at the flower in your hand.

"I like you too."

SANJI

It was a well known fact that Sanji was a massive flirt. Everyone knew about the cook's flirtatious antics, because he got heart-eyed over every woman he saw and everyone had witnessed it at some point. Even Nami and Robin were victim to his advances. But you, for some reason, were not. And it was confusing, to say the least, but it also sparked a deep insecurity.

Were you not pretty enough?

Little did you know, Sanji's aversion to flirting with you was only because every time he tried to say something to you, his tongue would tie itself up into a knot. He would not be able to get a word out, and would just end up looking like an idiot. He didn't want to give Zoro more ammunition. Because even looking at you sent all the thoughts in his head flying out, made his heart beat faster than he thought possible, and stole the breath from his lungs. He couldn't look at you without feeling faint.

"Why am I so unattractive?" You groaned one day, flopping down on the kitchen counter while he was cooking.

His eyes widened at your words, because there was simply no way you really thought you were ugly. He stared at you for a moment, and set down what he was holding to come over to you.

"You're not unattractive."

You scoffed, sitting up to look at him, "Please, you should be the last one to tell me that."

Before he could say anything, your eyes filled with tears and you retreated to your room, leaving him feeling so guilty. So it was because of him you felt that way. He thought it would be more romantic if he didn't flirt with you like a common woman, but it seemed that only made you think you weren't worthy of his affections.

Sighing, he followed you and stopped in front of your room door. He tried calling your name, but you didn't respond. Then he began to call you by other names - sweetheart, love, darling, anything romantic he could think of.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world," he leaned his forehead against the door, "And I'm sorry I made you feel like you aren't. But I just like you so much that you have me tongue-tied every time I set my eyes on you."

You slowly opened the door, "You like me? You have a weird way of showing it."

"I'm so sorry!" He apologised, falling to his knees and clasping his hands together, "Please forgive me! I promise to make you feel prettier than anything and anyone else in the world, my sweet (Name)."

He looked on the verge of tears, so you shook your head with a smile and grabbed his arm to make him stand.

"You're so lucky I like you too."

LUFFY

Lord help you. That's pretty much all that can be said. Because when Luffy develops feelings for you, he has absolutely no idea. He doesn't think much of the fact that he constantly wants to be around you, that he constantly wants your attention and that he suddenly shares his food with you. He's so oblivious that romance could smack him in the face and he still wouldn't know a thing about it. So, naturally, Nami and Sanji have to help him realise that what he feels for you is not the same as what he feels for the rest of the crew.

"Oi, (Name)!"

"Luffy, I-" Nami sighed. There was no point in trying to talk to the captain now, you had come into view and stolen his attention. He could simply not focus on anything but you.

You laughed as you came towards the pair, "Luffy. What did you do this time?"

He pouted, "Why do you always think I did something?"

"You're Luffy," you replied, "When are you not doing something?"

"I just wanted to show you this funny fruit!"

He held up a fruit that he had picked from one of the trees on this island, which did admittedly have a funny shape. He then proceeded to break the fruit in two, and gave you a half. Nami practically fainted. You took that half in shock, but upon closer examination you realised it was no ordinary fruit and you tossed it aside, jumping on Luffy.

"Luffy, spit it out!"

"Why?" He asked, mouth already full.

You groaned, and then slapped his cheek. He spit it all out, stunned by your slap and you sighed in relief that he hadn't swallowed any.

"Why did you hit me?" He asked. "I thought I was showing you that I like you. Do you not like me?"

Your eyes widened when he said this, and a deep blush crossed your cheeks, "I do like you, why do you think I was trying to get you to spit out that poisonous fruit?!"

"IT WAS POISONOUS?!"

USOPP

Pretty sure the only guy to react in a relatively normal way to liking you is this guy. He probably wouldn't notice at first, but he did realise it mid-battle. Some pirates jumped the ship, and his first instinct was to run until he saw you in trouble. You were fighting them off, but one grabbed you from behind and got you into a dangerous chokehold. The bravery to stand up for you that overcame him then was his first indication he had more than friendly feelings towards you.

"(Name), duck!"

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DUCK?!"

That's fair. You could barely talk, but you had managed to scream at him. The sharpshooter raised his shaky arms to take aim at the grinning scum that was hurting you, and without hesitating fired one of his exploding stars at him. You gasped and rolled away from the pirate, clutching your throat as you tried to inhale as much air as possible. Usopp rushed over to you, kneeling beside you as the rest of the pirates were dealt with by the others.

"Are you okay?" He asked, so concerned he was fussing over you, checking for any serious injuries and almost fainting when he saw one small cut on your neck. "You're not okay!"

"Hey, I'm fine," you rasped, "It's just a small scratch."

"CHOPPER! CHOPPER!" Usopp was already screaming for the reindeer.

Once you were treated - in other words, given a plaster for your tiny cut - you smacked Usopp on the back of his head, "Zoro and Sanji had much worse injuries, you know."

"W-well, I-I-" Usopp started stammering, his legs wobbling like they always did when he was scared or nervous. "I came down with this new disease, you know-" He rambled. "It's called 'i-like-you-osis' and it's very serious, you know."

You laughed as he took off on his shaky legs to hide after saying that, apparently too flustered by his own words to face you. You smiled and shook your head in dismay.

"I have the same disease, idiot."

[wileys-russo]

ok hear me out. mapi x ingrid x reader where reader gets a little minor injury. maybe a tweak in a knee or ankle. cue ingrid who is stubborn and doesn’t let you lift a finger (even tho you feel fine) and then there’s mapi who lets you get away with more than you should if you promise a few extra kisses

bed bound II m.león & i.engen

the very minute that your knee tweaked and you went down at training with a cry of pain, your entire body locked up and flooded with fear that it had happened again, those dreaded three letters which had almost ruined your career.

your girlfriends were the first by your side dropping down and fussing over you as you pushed them away, burying your head in your hands as the phsyio's arrived, gently ushering away the two girls who hovered anxiously nearby with the rest of the team.

"you are done for the day chica." mateo, a man you were far too close with given he'd been by your side your entire recovery, smiled apologetically as you gave in with a nod and a sigh.

at mateo's own nod his way jonatan was quick to call the girls back to training, mateo helping you to your feet as you assured you felt okay to walk and the pain was just a sudden shock.

"go! i'm okay." you mouthed to your two lovers who were still hesitantly hovering a few feet away, shooing them off as you carefully followed after mateo inside the training centre.

you were rushed off discreetly for a scan, alexia accompanying you and doing her best to take your mind off wandering to the worst possibility. having to take some time off for her own injuries she was the best possible person to have around you because she understood.

gratefully a few hours later and your results came back clear, it had only been a tweak.

but dismissed from training with the team to take the upmost caution for the next few days you found yourself back in the gym with alexia working on your own programs just like all those months ago.

the fact it was only a tweak however was not apparent to your girlfriends, who insisted on treating you like you were made from glass, banishing you to bed rest as if you'd broken your leg.

"ingrid i am fine!" you groaned loudly, smacking away the taller girls hands as she attempted to tuck you in. "you need to rest! please." the brunette sent you a firm look as you huffed but allowed her to continue.

"stop the pouting cari." mapi chuckled from the end of the bed, watching with crossed arms and an amused smile as ingrid fussed around you. "no! this is stupid. i wasn't told i needed bed rest by medical professionals, so why are you doing this?" you whined, head pushing back into the pillow with another groan.

"because elskling we love you and we care about you very very much." the brunette smiled, bending down and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, smoothing your hair out of your face and pecking your lips a few times.

"well can you care less then? pretty please?" you smiled sarcastically, ingrid flicking your ear with a roll of her eyes and stealing one last kiss. "no. i have to go to the store but maría will be here so call her if you need anything! stay in bed and rest your knee, i mean it." your girlfriend warned seriously, you now the one to roll your eyes.

"baby?" "yes! okay fine." "thank you, i'll be back in a little bit and you're in charge love."

"hey! i am older and she is injured, why is she in charge?" mapi scoffed in disbelief, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed. "because you might be older but you are a child maría." ingrid smiled, pulling her into a searing kiss and cutting off her protests.

"but what if there is a fire? she is supposed to stay in bed." your girlfriend still challenged, the interaction admittedly bettering your mood a little.

"so if there is a fire you're going to just leave me in bed?" you now spoke up with a raised eyebrow. "no! that is not what i meant." mapi pouted, eyebrows knitted into a frown.

"she's still in charge and you, stay in bed!" ingrid pointed firmly between the two of you before grabbing her bag, her footsteps echoing through the hallway before the door closed and she was gone.

"movie?" you asked the blonde defender hopefully, if you were bound to bed the least you wanted was some company. "i have a meeting in five minutes mi amor, lo siento." mapi smiled apologetically as you groaned.

"not only am i being forced to stay in bed but now i am alone!" you glared up at her as she took a seat on the edge of the mattress. "i am also hungry." you huffed, your girlfriend running a hand through your hair with an amused smile.

"i shouldn't be more than an hour bebita. then i am all yours!" mapi promised as you sighed dramatically. "i will have wasted away by then." you flopped back into bed with your arms covering your face.

"if only i had two functioning arms to cook with…" you sighed again. "oh wait! i have four functioning limbs but just two overprotective girlfriends." you gasped sarcastically, earning yourself a light slap to the chest.

"cari we just-" "please." "no you heard ingrid you have to-"

"baby please. please, please, please, please, please-" you grabbed at her top and tugged her mouth down to meet yours, kissing her repeatedly in between each word.

"okay!" mapi eventually gave in with a groan, glancing at the time on her watch and realising her meeting started in one minute and it would take a lot longer than that to continue arguing back and forth with you.

"you owe me a lot more of these.” your girlfriend warned seriously, stealing one last kiss before standing up from the bed as you swung yourself out of the covers.

"-and we do not tell ingrid." mapi warned as you both agreed on that with a nod, the blonde giving you a once over look as you stood up, reassuring her with a smile and a little shake of your leg that you were okay.

and at that she rushed off toward the office and you made your way into the kitchen.

you took awhile to decide what you were in the mood for, never having been great at being decisive you rifled mindlessly through the fridge.

finally making a decision you gathered the neccesary ingredients and started to prep sitting down at the island to do most of it, hearing your girlfriends worries ring through at the back of your mind. though your knee did feel fine, you of all people also didn't want to risk anything unnecessarily.

you must have taken longer to make a choice on what to cook than you thought because midway through you felt a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a chin rest on your shoulder.

"hola princessa." you settled into her hold with a sigh of contentment, offering up a spoon of the vegetables you were sauteing toward her which she happily accepted. "perfect. just like you!" a sweet kiss to your cheek had a smile curling into your features as the defender clung on tightly, swaying the two of you lightly as she often would.

"so how many more ads do you need to make with google for that silly phone? or have they decided to actually hire a qualified marketing specialist." you teased, knowing full well just how much your girlfriend often struggled with thinking up what to do, the groan against your back enough to answer the question for you.

"five this month." mapi sighed, pressing a few kisses beneath your ear and pressing her face into your neck. "i don't know why you don't talk to your agent about it maría, you don't even use the phone besides the ads!" you laughed, your girlfriend having an iPhone she used day to day for most things.

"don't you maría me. i can’t stop ingrid but i thought i at least had you on my side princesa." her fingers gripped your hips in warning though her tone was playful and you jolted a little as her teeth nipped suddenly at your neck.

you withheld a moan and tried your best to stay focused on the two pans of food in front of you, not helped by the fact that the tattooed spaniard sucked, bit and nipped mark after mark into your neck.

"careful, don't burn your food bebita." she rasped teasingly into your ear, kissing gently over the fresh love bites as you felt her smirk into your neck.

~

"i am back loves!" you looked up hearing the front door open and close a couple of hours later, your fingers tangled in blonde hair as your girlfriend lay draped across you.

seconds later and ingrid appeared, smiling happily seeing you still in bed and face softening seeing mapi dead asleep beside you. "hola mi corazón." the brunette greeted you in spanish, bending down and meeting you in a gentle kiss.

"did you get what you needed amor?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as the midfielder hummed and slid into bed with you, mapi stirring and exhaling deeply but otherwise remaining fast asleep and tightly attached to you.

"hey you promised that you would not watch ahead without me!“ ingrid realized the show you were watching and gasped at the betrayal. "you left me crippled, lonely and bored in bed for a few hours i needed something to occupy myself." you smiled as she rolled her eyes but mumbled something in norweigen, too fast for you to fully understand.

"so, you were in bed the whole time then?" "yes baby, just like you told me to."

"mm so what did maría cook you for lunch?" her hands tangled in your hair as your head dropped to rest on her shoulder, mapi remaining sound asleep, lulled by the rising and falling of your chest beneath her head.

"why?" you laughed curiously, a little taken aback by the question. "well amor because it looks like you had escalivada exactly the way your mama makes it, which maría does not know how to make. because you refuse to show her as you know it gets under her skin!" your body locked up at that, eyes widening a little.

"nothing to say elskling? normally you always have something to say." your girlfriends fingers found your chin, tilting your head up to meet her gaze as you opened and closed your mouth wordlessly. "mm that is what i thought." ingrid chuckled darkly.

"and these-" you hissed as her fingers moved to press gently into the sensitive hickies on your neck. "-i don't think you're being honest with me. and you know how i feel about lying." she smiled though her eyes told you all you needed to know.

"okay, but baby there is just one thing you need to know." "mm and what is that love?"

"you left me in charge, no? but it was all maría’s idea."